Page 34 of The Best Marquess

“Your tone is unbecoming. And do not dilly-dally further, Pippa. I have laid out the white gown for you.”

She rolled her eyes as she hurried to her bedchamber. That blasted gown needed to be hurled directly into the nearest fireplace. Or perhaps the scullery maids could use it to transport coal inside.

Ruby met her at the door. “You have a choice of two gowns, Lady Pippa. I wasn’t sure whether you were continuing with the charge, in which case I have brushed a lovely peach-striped calico, or strategically retreating to wear the white velvet with the itchy lace.”

“Continuing with the charge. Under no circumstances am I entering enemy territory and scratching. I need all my wits about me.”

Her maid laughed. “That is what I thought you’d say. I do note a certain spring in your step, though. May I assume your outing with his lordship went well?”

Pippa set down her reticule, then discarded her bonnet and pelisse. “Romance novel well.”

“Oooooh. That is half an exciting day, at least. Right, let’s get you dressed for the next battle.”

As Ruby unbuttoned the cerulean gown, lifted it away, and draped it over a chair, Pippa hesitated on the peach-striped calico. Perhaps she’d done enough nose-tweaking recently…

No.

If there was one person she could never show weakness in front of, it was Grandmother. And it was just a salon.

How bad could that possibly be?

“Thank you for meeting me here, Knighton. I know it’s not as private as my library, but…ah…nice enough place, eh?”

Finn smiled politely at Lord Kingsford as they walked up the steps and through the heavy wooden doors of the gentleman’s club. He’d been surprised when Pippa’s father had waylaid him outside Kingsford House, but while the words remained unsaid, he knew exactly why the older man didn’t want to talk there: the dowager. “No trouble, my lord. It is indeed very fine.”

And it was fine, if one liked stepping into an exclusive world of hushed, expensive elegance. He found this club stuffy and pretentious; although he’d visited a few times with his father, he’d not taken up a membership of his own, much to his sire’s disgust. But he could still appreciate the attentive staff and well-made furnishings.

Above their heads, a crystal chandelier lit up the room like a sparkling sunbeam and several fireplaces provided constant warmth. Over in the east corner, separated by embroidered screens, was a supper area where the tastiest roasted duck and beefsteaks in London were served. But most of the large, mahogany-paneled space was filled with oversized armchairs in sets of two or four or six depending on the size of the party. Underfoot, there were thick and discreetly patterned Aubusson rugs, and footmen in spotless livery constantly circled the room to refresh decanters of brandy or wine and supplies of cheroots or snuff.

Indeed, this club positively reeked of money and power; his father had practically lived here before his illness. Each day deals were made that affected the entire country, and wagers were placed in the betting book, some hilarious, some exceedingly foolish, some unfathomably cruel.

Kingsford might be a member here, but he was a sparrow among hawks.

No doubt Finn was also.

“Would you care for a brandy?” asked Lord Kingsford.

He nodded, knowing the vintage would be an excellent one. “Please.”

The earl gave his order to a footman who bowed and hurried away. Then they settled into one of the two-chair sets, close enough to the roaring fireplace that they would stay warm without being right next to it and overheating.

“So,” said Pippa’s father delicately. “You wish to marry my daughter. Well, I know you do, considering you hurled bodies left and right to make the announcement in my drawing room in front of several hundred witnesses.”

Finn flushed and tapped his fingers on the armchair, upholstered in a smooth, dark brown leather which his backside heartily approved of. “I know that method was…unconventional. I apologize if my actions offended you.”

“Only thing that was a trifle offensive, lad, is how long you took to charge to the center of the room. A man can pause and scratch his head for a certain length of time, but after that the guests start to wonder if he has fleas. And I don’t have fleas.”

He blinked at the unexpectedly chiding response, halting his reply as the footman returned with a silver tray and placed two glasses of brandy and a decanter on the low table between them before departing. The dark amber color promised a most delicious drop and Finn couldn’t resist a taste, reveling in the rich flavor and welcoming glow in his mouth.

“I got trapped next to the wall,” he said ruefully. “Standing on a damned footstool. But when I saw what was about to happen…”

“I understand,” said the earl, taking a sip of his drink. “My mother and the duke had made plans; I said I had no objections unless a better offer came along. And then it did.”

Finn laughed. “I’m a better offer? A viscount?”

“Better for Pippa. Friendship is a grand building block for marriage. You two have so much in common. You know, I was a chum of Miss Mandy…er, the late Lady Kingsford, before we were married. She was the rebellious daughter of the neighboring town mayor, I much preferred horses to people. But Mandy always sent me an invitation to parties and whatnot. I thought it was a hostess being charitable, never thought for a moment she might think of me in a romantic way. But one afternoon, at a Mayday fete after we’d all indulged in too much apple wine, Mandy told me I was a nincompoop and she was getting gray hairs waiting for me to propose. After that, she got down on her knee, right there and then, and asked me to marry her. Once I retrieved my jaw from the floor, I said yes, of course.”

“You must miss her,” said Finn awkwardly. It was an uncomfortable situation, sympathizing with a man who had continually placed such heavy burdens on Pippa’s shoulders. She would always have his first loyalty. Always.