Page 6 of A Simple Marriage (Millionaires of Mayfair #2)

As soon as they descended the staircase, Pippa didn’t hesitate. Grace’s head was bent in conversation with Lord Kingston. Immediately, she headed their way without Hugh. Hopefully, their paths wouldn’t cross again tonight.

If Pippa could have forgotten the etiquette lessons her mother had insisted that she learn, she would have given the marquess a dressing down that he would never have forgotten. The very idea that he asked if he could kiss her, then as soon as he remembered her brother, he became a cold fish.

She couldn’t deny that her first kiss had been wonderful. It had been romantic and filled with all the lovely things she’d hoped for. Having Hugh sweep her into his arms and kiss her until they were lost in each other had been amazing—the urgent touches, the soft whispers, the feel of lips against lips, chest against chest, and those velvety moans. Quite simply, she had never wanted to leave Hugh’s embrace. He’d exceeded her expectations. That kiss had been perfect.

Until he’d spoken about her brother.

And it had left her angry, frustrated, and dissatisfied.

For once in her life, she thought someone wanted her without any demands, conditions, or reservations. It was time to put Hugh Calthorpe, the Marquess of Ravenscroft, out of her mind.

“There you are,” Grace said triumphantly and beamed at her. “You remember Lord Kingston?”

Pippa presented her best smile. The one reserved for when she and her siblings opened their Christmas presents after the morning church service. It was her favorite day of the year.

“Lady Pippa,” Lord Kingston said with a wicked smile as his gaze slid slowly down her body.

Unable to help herself, she scowled slightly and took a step, creating distance between them. “Good evening, Lord Kingston.”

Adam Kingston was a viscount who lived near the coast of Cornwall. It wasn’t ideal as it was a tad far from her siblings, but still close enough that she could travel to Amesbury frequently whenever she desired. One thing in his favor was that his London home was within walking distance of Ardeerton House and Honor and Trafford’s home in Mayfair.

Lord Kingston smiled and delivered an elegant bow. His gold locks were almost the color of a light bronze. When his brown eyes met hers, they twinkled in merriment. But as his gaze skittered down her dress, they flared in appreciation. “You are a vision in that gown,” he murmured.

If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d just whispered, “Beautiful.” She didn’t acknowledge the compliment. People were always “oohing and ahhing” over her creations.

She allowed her own critical gaze to study him. His clothing was composed of the finest wool, but the tailoring wasn’t as well-crafted as Hugh’s clothing. The marquess’s clothing fit him like a supple, well-worn glove. Kingston wasn’t as tall as Ravenscroft, but he was still a handsome man.

Though not as handsome as Hugh.

Enough. She had to get the blasted man out of her thoughts. She couldn’t compare every man she met tonight with him. She had to keep her goals for the evening clear. See if she could find a man who would marry her.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance again, Lady Pippa. I’ve known your brother for several years.” Lord Kingston looked over the crowd. “Is he here tonight?”

“Unfortunately, he had to attend to business at the Jolly Rooster. I expect him to return to London within the fortnight.” She caught sight of Hugh, then deliberately turned from his direction. She didn’t want any distractions.

The music started up again signaling another set.

“Would you do me the honor?—”

As Pippa waited for Kingston to ask her to dance, he extended a hand in a different direction from her. “Ravenscroft, I didn’t know you were here. I thought you’d be in Amesbury since Pelham is there. It’s good to see you again, sir.”

Hugh slid up next to her and shook the viscount’s hand. “I decided to stay in London and help a friend.” His arm brushed hers sending goosebumps flying across her arms.

Pippa’s body had never betrayed her like this before. Thankfully, she wore long gloves that reached beyond her elbow. They would help hide the marquess’s effect on her.

Pippa glanced at the viscount. His joy at the marquess’s appearance was the exact opposite of hers. She wanted Hugh to go away. She needed the viscount’s total attention directed at her. How could she evaluate whether he was a suitable candidate or not?

“Are you heading to the card room?” the viscount asked.

“No, not tonight,” Hugh answered.

Lord Kingston’s visage immediately fell, completely dejected. “Shame. I thought we could play a couple of hands together.”

“Perhaps another night,” Hugh answered noncommittedly.

The viscount nodded then took his leave.

Grace’s eyes widened. “Never a good sign when he’s about to ask a lady to dance, then veers away to the cardroom.”

And ignores her completely. Pippa blew a non-existent stray hair from her face. She watched the viscount head in the direction of the cardroom but refused to acknowledge the marquess.

But the blighter made her do it.

“Lady Pippa, may I have the next dance,” Hugh asked as he bowed politely.

“Oh, how lovely.” Grace grinned in approval.

Pippa glanced in the corner where the dowagers and other mature women liked to congregate. Sure enough, Lady Edith was looking at them as if observing two animals in the wild. She held her opera glasses to her face, and a slight frown tilted her lips downward.

“Pippa?” Grace cajoled gently.

Drat the man. She could not turn him down without a hint of scandal starting to swirl around her.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Hugh extended his arm, but Pippa still refused to look at him.

He led her out to the dancefloor. Thankfully, it was away from the crowd on the edges of the ballroom. Grace could still she them, but Lady Edith could not. When he placed his hand on her waist, she jumped slightly as if burned. His touch branded her. He didn’t smile, but his eyes gleamed in merriment as if he knew what she was experiencing.

“I feel the same way,” he said softly.

“Annoyed?” she asked sweetly.

He threw his head back and laughed. At the deep, rich sound, ladies turned his way and smiled. Many of them wore envious looks. Others had a “come hither” smile on their face.

“Do you know that practically every woman is staring at you?”

“I think they’re staring at you in that magnificent gown.” He glanced around them. “It seems you’ve also captured every man’s attention.” He grew serious. “I don’t like it.”

“Why?” She tilted her chin an inch in a challenge.

He smiled ruefully. “Because I can’t see you with any of them. You deserve the best.”

“See? That’s where you’re wrong. Good enough is exactly what I want.”

“If you say so.” Again, his gaze swept around the ballroom as they waited for the orchestra to start. “I still don’t like it.” He sighed gently. “But what can I expect when every twirl and sweep of your gown demands attention?” He waggled his eyebrows. “But to answer your question, I don’t care about any other women here. There’s only one whom I’m interested in tonight.”

“Who might that be?” She offered a sickly-sweet smile.

“You know who. I picked this spot on the dance floor, so we were out of sight of Aunt Edith. She doesn’t need to know everything that we’re doing. Just my sneaking away with you earlier will give her a thrill. She’ll drill me on it for days.”

As the music started, she wanted to groan. It was another waltz. That meant their bodies would be close and she had to face him. Hopefully, she wouldn’t start blushing as she thought about their kiss.

He continued to smile as they started to dance. His movements were fluid and graceful. It was as if they had done this a million times before. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony with one another. He leaned forward, his breath caressing her ear. “Your touch gives me a thrill as well.”

She relaxed slightly in his arms. His voice had turned husky just like it had upstairs. Not willing to acknowledge it affected her, Pippa leaned a little closer. Her breasts brushed against his chest. Instantly, the humor left his eyes only to be replaced by promises of more kisses and other things she could only dream about.

“What did you think of Lord Kingston?” His gaze never left hers as he skillfully twirled her around.

“He seems a lovely man.” Coyly, she batted her eyes. “And handsome, too.”

A hint of devilry darkened his eyes as a wicked smile formed on his lips. “Oh, he’s pretty. I’ll grant you that.” Nonchalantly, he glanced around the dancefloor. “He’s pretty fond of the cardroom. It’s a nasty habit of his.”

Immediately, Pippa’s senses went on alert. Pelham had told her to watch for men who were financially desperate. He’d reiterated time and time again that they would only be interested in her trust fund and dowry. He’d warned her never to allow herself to be vulnerable to being compromised by such men.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“He’s been spending more and more time at your brother’s establishment. His games of chance are increasing at an alarming rate. Pelham noticed and asked me if I’d seen it as well. I think the viscount may soon lose his place in your brother’s millionaire club.”

“So, you’re acting as my protector now?” She couldn’t help that her voice sounded a bit petulant.

Hugh narrowed his eyes. “No. I’m acting as your friend.” He twirled her around again.

Like raindrops on a hot July afternoon, her anger evaporated. He was acting as a friend. But friends didn’t kiss friends like the way he had her. She let out a deep exhale. “Could you introduce me to other men this evening?”

“No,” he said curtly. “We have an agreement. You’ll help me with my mother and great-aunt, and I’ll introduce you to the men you have under consideration. That means we attend more affairs.” He took a deep breath, then pinned her with his gaze. “I must get my mother reaccustomed to going to society events. She’s been lonely.”

Pippa and loneliness were old friends. Her heart squeezed at his expression. There was a vulnerability about him that she’d never seen before. He adored his mother and wanted her happy. It was admirable that he cared so deeply for her. Most likely his parents had taught him that through their own affection and the love they shared for their children. It was quite beautiful and inspiring.

The only thing Pippa had learned from her parents was how to argue and create awkward, embarrassing moments.

“I need you to help with my mother.” His steadfastness had returned.

It suited him. But she was thankful that he’d shown a part of himself to her.

“Pippa?” He lowered his voice. “For the world, I don’t want to make you angry, and I know I did earlier. I am sorry for upsetting you. Forgive me?”

He looked so earnest she couldn’t help but nod her head. “You’re forgiven. If we’re clearing the air, I must ask, why have you avoided me this week?”

He lifted his gaze and scanned the crowd again. He pointed toward a group of ladies, one of which included his mother. “I thought it would be good for my mother to have you to herself.”

“Good.” She nodded once. “I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“Never,” he murmured.

“We cleared all the air then. It smells divine.”

A sudden smile broke across his lips, causing his entire face to brighten. It reminded her of the sun breaking through the horizon on a foggy dawn. Suddenly, everything seemed more luminous in the ballroom.

“When we were leaving your house, you said that Pelham didn’t approve of you buying Mademoiselle Mignon’s dress shop.” Hugh slowly brought them to a stop. The music faded to nothing, and the dancers clapped their approval. Through the din of noise, he asked, “Why?”

“Besides me being in trade, he worries I won’t have a head for business.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “I’ve written all my ideas for how I’ll run the dress shop. I’m waiting for the right moment to show him. I hope my numbers are good enough that he will consider it.”

Hugh nodded, then tilted his head. “If he approves, will you still need to marry?”

“Probably.” She smiled sheepishly. “It depends on how adamant he is about me marrying and if I can convince him it’s not necessary.”

“I manage several estates and have nearly a thousand successful tenant farmers. I look at the bookkeeping and the plans for the next year’s harvests on a constant basis.” He took her arm and led her back to where Grace stood at the sidelines with his mother and his great-aunt. “I could look at your plan and tell you what I think of it. But only if you’d like to share.”

Her heart pounded and she found it nearly impossible not to jump for joy at his offer. “I would be forever in your debt. You could help me see if I’ve missed anything. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.”

It was like manna from heaven. Hugh’s assistance would help her convince Pelham to give her the trust fund early.

“Could you come to Ardeerton House tomorrow? I would very much like your opinion on what I’ve done and how I’ve planned to operate the shop.”

“It would be my pleasure.” By then, they were almost to his mother’s side.

Her mood turned suddenly buoyant. “Will you stay for dinner?” She lowered her voice. This was a conversation only between the two of them. If his great-aunt heard them, she’d have the banns announced the following Sunday. “That is if you don’t have any plans.”

“My only plan is to spend whatever time you give me…with you.”

The next afternoon, Pippa stood and smoothed the papers on the library table for the fifth time since she’d entered the room as she prepared to meet Hugh. Thankfully, Grace had left to call on a friend. That meant that Pippa didn’t have to include her into her plans. She could concentrate on Hugh. She meant her plans. This was business—strictly an exchange of ideas. But sometimes he was the only thing she could concentrate on. Hopefully, the affliction wouldn’t affect her tonight.

With a glance at the longcase clock against the wall, she’d only been here for a half hour even though it felt like three. It was ridiculous to be so worried about his visit, but after last night, she’d come away from the evening with hope. Yet, once again, she had to wipe her palms down her skirt.

She wanted her revenue forecasts, budgets, and contingency plans to be perfect. Though she’d never operated a business before, she was adept at keeping inventories of her fabrics, buttons, lace, and all the accompaniments for making a dress. She’d even studied some of her brother’s estate management books, trying to glean the proper methods of accounting for profits and expenses.

Pippa grasped her leather satchel tightly to her chest. She hated being this nervous. It reminded her of all the times when she’d been called down to her mother’s study for her weekly etiquette assessment. It was nothing more than an opportunity for the duchess to tell Pippa everything she’d done wrong over the week. As soon as she would enter the room, her mother would criticize her hair or the wrinkles in her clothing. She’d list all the faux paus that Pippa had made during the previous week’s dinners.

It would have been so much easier to ignore the criticism, but she was desperate to ensure her mother and father loved her. After all, they were her parents. Weren’t they supposed to love their children no matter their faults?

Not her parents. They only showed affection when Pippa was perfect in looks, manners, and decorum. Which meant that they rarely showed her any love. It wasn’t just her either. Both of her parents ignored Pelham for the most part. Poor Honoria was loathed by their father while their mother disregarded her eldest daughter.

After each session Pippa had alone with her mother, the duchess would practically throw Pippa into her father’s study. Pippa had enough of these weekly visits to know what was expected of her. She had to sit dutifully in front of her father’s desk until he acknowledged her. Sometimes, it would only take a quarter of an hour. But most times, it was a least a half hour. One time, she made the mistake of sighing aloud after an hour. Her father had banished her from his sight for the following two weeks for her impertinence.

That meant that her mother would do the same.

She’d learned that love was conditional and could be taken away without notice no matter how hard a person tried to please their parents. Thankfully, her brother Dane was always there to whisk her away before any other punishment could be delivered. He’d always said that out of sight was out of mind.

By a niggle always was at the edge of her thoughts. What if a husband did the same thing? Diminish and dismiss her without a care. How could she protect herself? Only with her family did she feel safe and secure.

A brief knock sounded on the door, and Pippa whirled around to see who was there.

Her heart stumbled in her chest. It was Hugh looking too handsome for his own good.

“I’ve never been jealous of a piece of leather before now,” he said with a wry grin.

“What?” He looked as if he’d just walked out of an advertisement for the finest men’s clothing that money could buy. She couldn’t quit staring at him. He dressed in a black tailcoat with matching breeches and black boots. His snow-white cravat was immaculately tied and fell in precise folds that were tucked into a scarlet red waistcoat.

He pointed to her chest. “Your satchel.”

She glanced down and realized that she still clung to the leather piece. Hastily, she placed it on the table. By then, he was by her side.

“I hope you don’t mind. I told Ritson that I could find my way to you without the formality of an announcement.” One of his black brows arched, but his eyes glowed. He was confident of his place in the world and never seemed to doubt himself or his actions except for last night. He understood her feelings, and he wore that empathy well.

If only she had his self-confidence. But if that was the case, she wouldn’t be asking for his assistance.

“Why the worried look?” At ease, Hugh leaned one hip against the library table.

“It’s nothing.”

He scratched his jaw and examined her. “Why do I not believe that?” He ran a hand down the length of his body. “Is there something wrong with my choice of clothing?” He snapped his fingers, and his potent smile flashed again, almost blinding her. “I have it. You can’t see my body, and you’re disappointed.”

“Quit teasing me.” Pippa turned away, hoping to get her unruly emotions under control. One minute, she wanted to kiss him, and the next, she wanted to punch him. Yet, as it always was with the marquess, she couldn’t stay indifferent. The man was a master at goading her into revealing herself.

“Ah, there it is. One of those beautiful Pippa smiles.” He turned his attention to the table and pointed to the papers she’d laid out earlier. “Are these your plans?”

“Yes.” She smoothed her hands down her dress twice, praying for the fortitude to hear his thoughts. No matter what he said, it was best to hear his criticism. She was no stranger to criticism. Her parents had endlessly railed her about her mistakes and missteps. Perhaps Hugh would see her as a failure as well.

Her thoughts accelerated like a runaway horse. She just had to remember that he was here to help.

But old habits were hard to break.

“Pippa,” he said gently, drawing her gaze to his. “What’s wrong?”

She blew out a breath, upsetting a loose curl that had fallen across her forehead. “I’m afraid you’ll think it’s an inadequate plan. I almost believe it’s a juvenile attempt at best.” She wrung her hands and stepped away. “Perhaps this was a ridiculous idea. What do I know about running a dress shop?”

In a flash he stood in front of her and gently clasped her shoulders. “What is this about? I’ve never seen you so unsure of yourself. At first glance, I can surmise that you’ve put forth an extraordinary effort with these figures and budgets. Don’t doubt yourself before we even start.” He reached up and brushed that flyaway piece of hair from her face. The warmth of his fingers left a trail of fire across her skin. “Will you do that for me? More importantly, will you do that for yourself?”

Her pounding heartbeat threatened to break through her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t utter a sound.

As he studied her face, his brow furrowed slightly at her distress. “Do I make you nervous?”

Petrified more like it. Heat, the kind that told too much, blazed across her cheeks. “I don’t know if it’s you or not.” It was the truth. She didn’t understand if it was because of being alone with him or the idea she’d share something so vital to her identity. If he dismissed her plans, it meant he dismissed her.

“Come with me.” He took her hand and led her back to the table. He pointed to a chair, indicating that she should take a seat. Once she obliged, he took the one directly across from her. “Would you like to do this another time?”

“No,” she managed to squeak out. “When my brother returns, I want to show him my plans.”

He nodded, then set his elbows on the table and rested his hands under his square jaw. “What can I do to make this easier for you?”

She glanced at the plans. Hugh was correct in his assessment. She had spent hours and hours creating them. Slowly, she raised her gaze to his. “Would you mind sitting next to me? If I can’t see your expression, I won’t be second guessing myself or my work.” Such a request showed her weakness at receiving criticism, but if she was to survive his evaluation, she didn’t want to see his reactions.

“Of course,” he said. He rose and brought his chair next to hers. Once he was seated, they were side by side.

She took another deep breath, willing herself to calm down.

Without warning, he slid his hand underneath the table and found hers. Gently, he interlaced their fingers together. “Whenever you’re ready. I want to hear your thoughts.”

Those were the kindest words he could have said to her. She felt her eyes water at his gentleness. Honor and Pelham were patient with her, but to have him say that to her and mean it, made her…appreciate him even more.

She nodded, then pulled the first sheet of parchment toward him. Without looking at him, she pointed to the first row of numbers. “This column represents Mignon’s income from last year.” She cleared her throat to dislodge that pesky hint of doubt. She pointed to the next column. “This represents what I believe will be the first year’s income.”

He leaned slightly to study the paper. A hint of his fragrance wafted her way. The familiar scent was comforting. From her periphery, she noticed that his eyes skated down the page.

“Why is your forecast fifty percent less than Mignon’s actual numbers?” There wasn’t a hint of accusation in his tone.

She released the pent-up breath she’d been holding as soon as he spoke. If it had been her mother or father, they’d have been disparaging her lack of commitment.

“I believe that with the change of ownership, people might try another modiste.” Her finger trailed along the column, then slowly moved to expenses. “Yet, I’ve kept the expenses the same as I’ll still have to keep an inventory.” With each word, she grew stronger. “I want to make a few gowns and have them on display in the small windows. I believe that will draw in clientele.” Her hand quickly moved to another column. “I’ll make several gowns for friends and family and ask them to wear them to several popular events. I’d like for your mother and great-aunt to wear my designs if they’re so inclined. Those gowns will be a true representation of my craft. From those showings, I expect to find a few new patrons. They’ll wear my dresses. Then, hopefully, I’ll garner a few more clients. I’m counting on word of mouth.” Finally, she turned and looked him in the eye. “I know gowns and their appeal. Everyone is always looking for the latest fashions. That’s my strength. I know what is flattering for different body types.”

His eyes narrowed for a moment as he considered another parchment. “How will you make all these gowns? You can’t do it yourself.”

She pulled the paper forward so they both could consider it as she explained. “I’m going to offer employment to every seamstress that currently works for Mignon. If anyone leaves, I plan to offer sewing lessons for free. It’ll be like apprenticeships. Once the student reaches a certain level of achievement, then I’ll move them into the store. They can start working on petticoats and other undergarments. Once they’ve shown they’re proficient, then I’ll move them into the actual gown making.”

“Let me see your inventory sheets. There are always hidden costs there.” After his gaze ran through the numbers twice, he returned his attention to her. “This is very thorough. Good work. Don’t doubt yourself.”

She nodded her thanks. Quickly, she pulled out the inventory sheets. “This is what Mignon has in stock. Once I tell her I’m buying it, I’ll go and meet her vendors.” She pointed to the list of French vendors. “Except for these. I’ll write and introduce myself.”

His eyes scanned the document before he looked at her. “There’s a lot of velvet inventory. What are you going to do with all of it?”

She didn’t hesitate for a moment. “Sir, do you know that it’s the one number chosen fabric for holiday gowns? Plus, there is always the opportunity to sell the customer a matching cloak or shawl. Plus, redingotes, winter riding habits, and the like.”

“Your assuredness is very becoming.” He squeezed her hand. “Anyone who doesn’t agree with me is a fool.”

“You’re very easy to talk to.” She swallowed as the moment turned suddenly serious. “May I ask you a question?”

“Anything.”

“What do you think my brother will do when he sees this?”

“He’ll be impressed with your diligence on investigating every aspect of this purchase.” He turned in his seat until he faced her.

Though he grinned slightly, the warning in his eyes gave her pause. “Your expression is a tad disquieting.”

He leaned near until only inches separated them. There was no judgment in his eyes. Instantly, she felt herself relax. The urge to kiss him grew near nigh impossible to ignore. However, she didn’t move and hardened her stomach for him to express his concern.

“As a man of business, he’ll see that the numbers are sound and that you’ve thought about unexpected scenarios that could occur during your first years running the shop.” He placed his arm on the back of her chair. “If you asked him to invest, he would do it.”

Like a magnet attracted to another, she leaned in another inch. “Why do I hear a ‘however’ in my future.”

“Because there is one, I’m afraid.” He played with several curls at the back of her neck that escaped from her simple chignon. “He’s your brother and his protective streak hasn’t lessened over the years when it comes to you and your sister. He won’t simply see this as a business opportunity. He’ll see it as about you. It’s not that you aren’t competent, but society looks down on people in trade. Even you, the sister of a powerful duke. Dare I say you have more at risk than a titled man who makes his own money? Some men would forbid their wives from working. Your brother wants you to take your place in society and be respected. He’ll do what he sees best for your future. That means he might not give you the funds to proceed.”

His fingers brushed the tender skin of her neck, and she trembled slightly from the touch. Yet, she didn’t move an inch. She reminded herself of a barn cat starving for affection but scared to accept it. As long as he was caressing her, she’d stay in this position for the rest of her days.

What was happening to her? She was not supposed to come under any man’s spell, especially a certain marquess who didn’t want or believe in love either. But this was Hugh.

“What should I do?” Whether she was asking about kissing him or about Pelham, she didn’t know.

“I don’t know,” he said.

Perhaps he was just as confused as she was about the kiss. She shook her head, determined not to think about the shape of his mouth or the softness of his lips.

“But don’t give up,” he said.

For some reason, that answer left her with a forlornness or perhaps it was a bleakness that she feared she’d never recover from.

She would have to marry. It was the easiest way.

But why was her mulish heart challenging her decision?