โฆ Iโm sorry I havenโt written. No, thatโs not true. Iโm not sorry. I donโt wish to write. I donโt wish to think ofโ
โ-from the Countess of Kilmartin to the new Earl of Kilmartin, one day after the receipt of his first missive to her, torn to bits, then soaked with tears
By the time Michael arose the next morning, Kilmartin House seemed to be back up and running as befitted the home of an earl. There were fires in every grate, and a splendid breakfast had been laid out in the informal dining room, with coddled eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, toast with butter and marmalade, and his own personal favorite, broiled mackerel.
Francesca, however, was nowhere to be found.
When he inquired after her, he was given a folded note sheโd left for him earlier that morning. It seemed she felt that tongues might wag at their living alone together at Kilmartin House, and so she had removed herself to her motherโs residence at Number Five, Bruton Street, until either Janet or
Helen arrived down from Scotland. She did, however, invite him to call upon her that day, as she was certain they had much to discuss.
And Michael supposed she was right, so once heโd finished with his breakfast (finding, much to his great surprise, that he rather missed the yogurts and dosas of his Indian morning meal), he stepped outside and made his way to Number Five.
He elected to walk; it wasnโt very far, and the air had warmed appreciably since the icy gusts of the day before. But mostly, he just wanted to take in the cityscape, to remind himself of the rhythms of London. Heโd never noticed the particular smells and sounds of the capital before, how the clip- clop of horsesโ hooves combined with the festive shout of the flower seller and low rumble of cultured voices. There was the sound of his feet on the pavement, and smell of roasting nuts, and the vague heft of soot in the air, all combining to make something that was uniquely London.
It was almost overpowering, which was strange, because he remembered feeling precisely the same way upon landing in India four years earlier. The humid air, redolent with spice and flowers, had shocked his every sense. It had felt almost like an assault, leaving him drowsy and disoriented. And while his reaction to London wasnโt quite that dramatic, he still felt rather like the odd man out, his senses buffeted by smells and sounds that shouldnโt have felt so unfamiliar.
Had he become a stranger in his own land? It seemed almost bizarre, and yet, as he walked along the crowded streets of Londonโs most exclusive shopping district, he couldnโt help but think that he stood out, that anyone glancing upon him must instantly know that he was dif-ferent, removed from their very British existence.
Or, he allowed, as he caught sight of his reflection in a shop window, it could be the tan.
It would take weeks to fade. Months, maybe. His mother was going to be scandalized.
The thought of it made him grin. He rather enjoyed scandalizing his mother. Heโd never be so grown up thatย thatย ceased to be fun.
He turned on Bruton Street and walked past the last few homes to Number Five. Heโd been there before, of course. Francescaโs mother had always defined the word โfamilyโ in the widest of all possible manners, so Michael had found himself invited along with John and Francesca to any number of Bridgerton family events.
When he arrived, Lady Bridgerton was already in the green-and-cream drawing room, taking a cup of tea at her writing desk under the window. โMichael!โ she exclaimed, rising to her feet with obvious affection. โHow good to see you!โ
โLady Bridgerton,โ he said, taking her hand and gracing it with a gallant kiss.
โNo one does that like you,โ she said approvingly.
โOne has to cultivate oneโs best maneuvers,โ he murmured.
โAnd I canโt tell you how much we ladies of a certain age appreciate your doing so.โ
โA certain age beingโฆโ He smiled devilishly. โโฆ one and thirty?โ
Lady Bridgerton was the sort of woman who grew lovelier with age, but the smile she gave him made her positively radiant. โYou areย alwaysย welcome in this house, Michael Stirling.โ
He grinned and sat in a high-backed chair when she motioned for him to do so.
โOh, dear,โ she said with a slight frown. โI must apologize. I suppose I should be calling you Kilmartin now.โ
โ โMichaelโ is just fine,โ he assured her.
โI know that itโs been four years,โ she continued, โbut as I havenโt seen youโฆโ
โYou may call me anything you wish,โ he said smoothly. It was strange. Heโd finally grown used to being called Kilmartin, adapted to the way his title had overtaken his surname. But that had been in India, where no one had known him as plain Mr. Stirling, and perhaps more importantly, no one had known John as the earl. Hearing his title on Violet Bridgertonโs lips was a little unnerving, especially since she had, as was the custom for many mothers-in-law, habitually referred to John as her son.
But if she sensed any of his inner discomfort, she gave no indication. โIf you are going to be so accommodating,โ she said, โthen I must be as well. Please do call me Violet. Itโs well past time that you did.โ
โOh, I couldnโt,โ he said quickly. And he meant it. This was Lady Bridgerton. She wasโฆ Well, he didnโt know what she was, but she couldnโt possibly beย Violetย to him.
โI insist, Michael,โ she said, โand Iโm certain youโre already aware that I usually get my way.โ
There was no way he was going to win the argument, so he just sighed and said, โI donโt know if I can kiss the hand of a Violet. It seems rather scandalously intimate, donโt you think?โ
โDonโt you dare stop.โ
โTongues will wag,โ he warned her.
โI believe my reputation can withstand it.โ โAh, but can mine?โ
She laughed. โYou are a rascal.โ
He leaned back in his chair. โIt serves me well.โ
โWould you care for tea?โ She motioned to the delicate china pot on the desk across the room. โMine has gone cold, but I would be happy to ring for more.โ
โIโd love some,โ he admitted.
โI suppose youโre spoiled for it now, after so many years in India,โ she said, standing and crossing the room to ring the bellpull.
โItโs just not the same,โ he said, quickly rising to his feet as well. โI canโt explain it, but nothing tastes quite like tea in England.โ
โThe quality of the water, do you think?โ
He smiled stealthily. โThe quality of the woman pouring.โ She laughed. โYou, my lord, need a wife. Immediately.โ โOh, really? And why is that?โ
โBecause in your present state, you are clearly a danger to unmarried women everywhere.โ
He couldnโt resist one last flirtation. โI hope you are including yourself in those ranks, Violet.โ
And then a voice from the door: โAre you flirting with myย mother?โ
It was Francesca, of course, impeccably turned out in a lavender morning dress adorned with a rather intricate stretch of Belgian lace. She looked as if she were very much trying to be stern with him.
And not entirely succeeding.
Michael allowed his lips to curve into a mysterious smile as he watched the two ladies take their seats. โI have traveled the world over, Francesca, and can say without qualification that there are few women with whom Iโd rather flirt than your mother.โ
โI am inviting you to supper right now,โ Violet announced, โand I will not accept no for an answer.โ
Michael chuckled. โIโd be honored.โ
Across from him, Francesca murmured, โYou are incorrigible.โ
He just flashed her a lanky grin. This was good, he decided. The morning was proceeding exactly as heโd hoped, with he and Francesca falling into their old roles and habits. He was once again the reckless charmer and she was pretending to scold him, and all was as it had been back before John had died.
Heโd been surprised last night. He hadnโt expected to see her. And he hadnโt been able to make sure that his public persona was firmly in place.
And it wasnโt as if itย allย was an act. Heโd always been a bit reckless, and he probablyย wasย an irredeemable flirt. His mother certainly liked to say that heโd been charming the ladies since the age of four.
It was just that when he was with Francesca it was vitally important that that aspect of his personality remained at the forefront, so that she never suspected what lay underneath.
โWhat are your plans now that you are returned?โ Violet asked.
Michael turned to her with what he knew had to be a blank expression. โIโm not certain, actually,โ he said, ashamed to admit to himself that that was true. โI imagine it will take me some time to understand just what exactly is expected of me in my new role.โ
โIโm sure Francesca can be of help in that quarter,โ Violet said. โOnly if she wishes it,โ Michael said quietly.
โOf course,โ Francesca said, moving slightly to the side when a maid came in with a tea tray. โI will assist you in any way you need.โ
โThat was rather quick,โ Michael murmured.
โIโm mad for tea,โ Violet explained. โDrink it all day long. The maids keep water to near boiling on the stove at all times now.โ
โWill you have some?โ Francesca asked, since she had taken charge of pouring.
โYes, thank you,โ Michael replied.
โNo one knows Kilmartin as Francesca does,โ Violet said, with all the pride of a mother hen. โShe will prove invaluable to you.โ
โI am quite sure that you are correct,โ Michael said, accepting a cup from Francesca. She had remembered how he took itโmilk, no sugar. For some reason this pleased him immensely. โShe has been the countess for six years, and for four of them, she has had to be the earl as well.โ At Francescaโs startled glance, he added, โIn every way but in name. Oh, come now, Francesca, you must realize that it is true.โ
โAnd,โย he added, โthat it is a compliment. I owe you a greater debt than I could ever repay. I could not have stayed away so long had I not known that the earldom was in such capable hands.โ
Francesca actually blushed, which surprised him. In all the years heโd known her, he could count on one hand the times he had seen her cheeks go pink.
โThank you,โ she mumbled. โIt was no difficulty, I assure you.โ
โPerhaps, but it is appreciated all the same.โ He lifted his teacup to his lips, allowing the ladies to direct the conversation from there.
Which they did. Violet asked him about his time in India, and before he knew it he was telling them of palaces and princesses, caravans and curries. He left out the marauders and malaria, deciding they werenโt quite the thing for a drawing-room conversation.
After a while he realized that he was enjoying himseli immensely. Maybe, he thought, reflecting on the moment as Violet said something about an
Indian-themed ball sheโd attended the year before, just maybe heโd made the right decision.
It might actually be good to be home.
An hour later, Francesca found herself on Michaelโs arm, strolling through Hyde Park. The sun had broken through the clouds, and when she had declared that she could not resist the fine weather, Michael had had no choice but to offer to accompany her for a walk.
โItโs rather like old times,โ she said, tilting her face up toward the sun. Sheโd most likely end up with a ghastly tan, or at the very least freckles, but she supposed sheโd always look like pale porcelain next to Michael, whose skin marked him immediately as a recent returnee from the tropics.
โWalking, you mean?โ he asked. โOr your expertly maneuvering me into accompanying you?โ
She tried to maintain a straight face. โBoth, of course. You used to take me out a great deal. Whenever John was busy.โ
โSo I did.โ
They walked on in silence for a few moments, and then he said, โI was a bit surprised to find you gone this morning.โ
โI hope you understand why I had to leave,โ she said. โI didnโt want to, of course; returning to my motherโs home makes me feel as if Iโm stepping right back into childhood.โ She felt her lips pinching together in distaste. โI adore her, of course, but Iโve grown rather used to maintaining my own household.โ
โWould you like me to take up residence elsewhere?โ
โNo, of course not,โ she said quickly. โYou are the earl. Kilmartin House belongs to you. Besides, Helen and
Janet are only a week behind me; they should arrive soon, and then I will be able to move back in.โ
โChin up, Francesca. Iโm sure you will endure.โ
She shot him a sideways glance. โIt is nothing that youโor any man, for that matterโwill understand, but I much prefer my status as a married woman to that of a debutante. When Iโm at Number Five, with both Eloise and Hyacinth in residence, I feel as if Iโm back in my first season, with all the attendant rules and regulations.โ
โNot all of them,โ he pointed out. โIf that were true, youโd not be allowed out with me right now.โ
โTrue,โ she acceded. โEspecially with you, I imagine.โ โAnd just what is that supposed to mean?โ
She laughed. โOh, come now, Michael. Did you really think that your reputation would find itself whitewashed just because you left the country for four years?โ
โFrancescaโโ โYouโre aย legendโย He looked aghast.
โItโs true,โ she said, wondering why he was so surprised. โGoodness, women are still talking about you.โ
โNot to you, I hope,โ he muttered.
โOh, to me above all others.โ She grinned wickedly. โThey all want to know when you plan to return. And itโs sure to be worse once word gets out that youโre back. I must say, itโs rather an odd roleโconfidante to Londonโs most notorious rake.โ
โConfidante, eh?โ
โWhat else would you call it?โ
โNo, no, confidante is a perfectly appropriate word. Itโs just that if you think Iโve confidedย everythingย in youโฆโ
Francesca shot him a cross expression. This was so like him, letting his words trail off meaningfully, leaving her imagination feverish with questions. โI take it then,โ she muttered, โthat you did not share with us all the news from India.โ
He just smiled. Devilishly.
โVery well. Allow me, then, to move the conversation to more respectable areas. Whatย doย you plan to do now that you are back? Will you take up your seat in Parliament?โ
He appeared not to have considered that.
โIt is what John would have wanted,โ she said, knowing that she was being fiendishly manipulative.
Michael looked at her grimly, and his eyes told her that he did not appreciate her tactics.
โYou will have to marry as well,โ Francesca said.
โDo you plan to take on the role of my matchmaker?โ he asked peevishly.
She shrugged. โIf you desire it. Iโm sure I couldnโt possibly do a worse job of it than you.โ
โGood God,โ he grumbled, โIโve been back one day. Do we need to address this now?โ
โNo, of course not,โ she allowed. โBut soon. Youโre not getting any younger.โ
Michael just stared at her in shock. โI canโt imagine permitting anyone else to speak to me in such a manner.โ
โDonโt forget your mother,โ she said with a satisfied smile.
โYou,โ he said rather forcefully, โareย notย my mother.โ
โThank heavens for that,โ she returned. โIโd have expired of heart failure years ago. I donโt know how she does it.โ
He actually halted in his tracks. โIโm notย thatย bad.โ She shrugged delicately. โArenโt you?โ
And he was speechless. Absolutely speechless. It was a conversation theyโd had countless times, but something was different now. There was an edge to her voice, a jab to her words that had never quite been there before.
Or maybe it was just that heโd never noticed it.
โOh, donโt look so shocked, Michael,โ she said, reaching across her body and patting him lightly on the arm. โOf course you have a terrible reputation. But you are endlessly charming, and so you are always forgiven.โ
Was this how she saw him, he wondered. And why was he surprised? It was exactly the image heโd cultivated.
โAnd now that you are the earl,โ she continued, โthe mamas shall be falling all over themselves to pair you with their precious daughters.โ
โI feel afraid,โ he said under his breath. โVery afraid.โ
โYou should,โ she said, with no sympathy whatsoever. โIt will be a feeding frenzy, I assure you. You are fortunate that I took my mother aside this morning and made her swear not to throw Eloise or Hyacinth in your path. She would do it, too,โ she added, clearly relishing the conversation.
โI seem to recall that you used to find joy in throwing your sisters in my path.โ
Her lips twisted slightly. โThat was years ago,โ she said, swishing her hand through the air as if she could wave his words away on the wind. โYou would never suit.โ
Heโd never had any desire to court either of her sisters, but nor could he resist the chance to give Francesca a wee verbal poke. โEloise,โ he queried, โor Hyacinth?โ
โNeither,โ she replied, with enough testiness to make him smile. โBut I shall find you someone, do not fret.โ
โWas I fretting?โ
She went on as if he hadnโt spoken. โI think I shall introduce you to Eloiseโs friend Penelope.โ
โMiss Featherington?โ he asked, vaguely recalling a slightly pudgy girl who never spoke.
โSheโs my friend as well, of course,โ Francesca added. โI believe you might like her.โ
โHas she learned to speak?โ
She glared at him. โIโm going to ignore that comment. Penelope is a perfectly lovely and highly intelligent lady once one gets past her initial shyness.โ
โAnd how long doesย thatย take?โ he muttered.
โI think she would balance you quite nicely,โ Francesca declared.
โFrancesca,โ he said, somewhat forcefully, โyou will not play matchmaker for me. Is that understood?โ
โWell, someโโ
โAnd donโt you say that someone has to,โ he cut in. Really, she was the same open book sheโd been years ago. Sheโd always wanted to manage his life.
โMichael,โ she said, the word coming out as a sigh that was far more long- suffering than she had a right to be.
โI have been back in town for one day,โ he said. โOne day. I am tired, and I donโt care if the sun is outโIโm still bloody cold, and my belongings havenโt even been unpacked. Pray give me at least a week before you start planning my wedding.โ
โA week, then?โ she said slyly.
โFrancesca,โ he said, his voice laced with warning.
โVery well,โ she said dismissively. โBut donโt you dare say I didnโt warn you. Once you are out in society, and the young ladies have you backed into a corner with their mamas coming in for the killโโ
He shuddered at the image. And at the knowledge that her prediction was probably correct.
โโyou will be begging for my help,โ she finished, looking up at him with a rather annoyingly satisfied expression.
โIโm sure I will,โ he said, giving her a paternalistic smile that he knew sheโd detest. โAnd when that happens, I promise you that I shall be duly prostrate with regretful-ness, atonement, shamefacedness, and any other unpleasant emotion you care to assign to me.โ
And then she laughed, which wanned his heart far more than he should have let it. He could always make her laugh.
She turned to him and smiled, then patted his arm. โItโs good to have you back.โ
โItโs good to be back,โ he said. Heโd said the words automatically, but he realized heโd meant them. Itย wasย good. Difficult, but good. But even difficult wasnโt worth complaining over. It was certainly nothing he wasnโt used to.
They were fairly deep in Hyde Park now, and the grounds were growing a bit more crowded. The trees were only just beginning to bud, but the air
was still nippy enough that the people out strolling werenโt looking for shade.
โI should have brought bread for the birds,โ Francesca murmured.
โAt the Serpentine?โ Michael asked with surprise. Heโd often walked in Hyde Park with Francesca, and they had tended to avoid that area of the Serpentineโs banks like the plague. It was always full of nursemaids and children, shrieking like little savages (often the nursemaids more so than the children) and Michael had at least one acquaintance who had found himself pelted in the head with a loaf of bread.
Seems no one had told the budding little cricket player that one was supposed to break the bread into more manageableโand less hazardousโ segments.
โI like to toss bread in for the birds,โ Francesca said, a touch defensively. โBesides, there wonโt be too many children about today. Itโs still a bit cold yet.โ
โNever stopped John and me,โ Michael offered gamely.
โYes, well, youโre Scottish,โ she returned. โYour blood circulates quite well half frozen.โ
He grinned. โA hearty lot, we Scots.โ It was a bit of a joke, that. With so much intermarriage, the family was at least as much English as it was Scottish, perhaps even more so, but with Kilmartin firmly situated in the border counties, the Stirlings clung to their Scottish heritage like a badge of honor.
They found a bench not too far from the Serpentine and sat, idly watching the ducks on the water.
โYouโd think theyโd find a warmer spot,โ Michael said. โFrance, maybe.โ
โAnd miss out on all the food the children toss at them?โ Francesca smiled wryly. โTheyโre not stupid.โ
He just shrugged. Far be it from him to pretend any great knowledge of avian behavior.
โHow did you find the climate in India?โ Francesca queried. โIs it as hot as they say?โ
โMore so,โ he replied. โOr maybe not. I donโt know. I imagine the descriptions are perfectly accurate. The problem is, no Englishman can truly understand what they mean until he gets there.โ
She looked at him quizzically.
โItโs hotter than you could ever imagine,โ he said, spelling it out. โIt soundsโฆ Well, I donโt know how it sounds,โ she admitted. โThe heat isnโt nearly so difficult as the insects.โ
โIt sounds dreadful,โ Francesca decided.
โYou probably wouldnโt like it. Not for an extended stay, anyway.โ โIโd like to travel, though,โ she said softly. โIโd always planned to.โ
She fell silent, nodding in a rather absentminded manner, her chin tilting up and down for so long that he was quite sure sheโd forgotten she was doing it. Then he realized that her eyes were fixed off in the distance. She was watching something, but for the life of him he couldnโt imagine what. There was nothing interesting in the vista, just a pinchfaced nursemaid pushing a pram.
โWhat are you looking at?โ he finally asked. She said nothing, just continued to stare. โFrancesca?โ
She turned to him. โI want a baby.โ