A PROPER AFFAIR Read online

  “Victoria Malvey adds a fresh voice and new verve to the genre.”

  —Romantic Times

  Praise for the enchanting novels of Victoria Malvey

  A MERRY CHASE

  “Malvey delights with her charming characters and witty situations, and the many plot twists add a dash of spice and suspense to this romantic chase.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “You’ll find yourself enjoying every minute. . . . Ms. Malvey’s new historical novel is delightful, delicious, and delectable. Her intelligent, witty characters are easy to like and their comical antics bring a quick smile and genuine laughter. Don’t miss the fun.”

  —Rendezvous

  TEMPTRESS

  “Victoria Malvey gives classic romance a fresh and exciting new voice.”

  —Teresa Medeiros, author of The Bride and the Beast

  ENCHANTED

  “A delightful and alluring romance. This is the kind of tale that brightens the day and brings back memories of first crushes and the wonderful feeling of falling in love.”

  —Romantic Times

  “Written with skill and humor—a delight to read. . . . A compelling story about the endurance of love.”

  —Rendezvous

  “An enthralling tale of mystery and intrigue. Splendid.”

  —Bell, Book & Candle

  PORTRAIT OF DREAMS

  “A new star has burst upon the romance horizon. Victoria Malvey’s Portrait of Dreams [is] a sensually sweet tale of love found and fought for. The spark that makes a book a bestseller is present on every page of this beautiful story. FIVE STARS.”

  —Affaire de Coeur

  “Heartwarming and tender—a truly unforgettable story.”

  —Julie Garwood, author of Heartbreaker

  Books by Victoria Malvey

  Portrait of Dreams

  Enchanted

  Temptress

  A Merry Chase

  Fortune’s Bride

  A Proper Affair

  Published by POCKET BOOKS

  SONNET BOOKS

  New York London Toronto Sydney Singapore

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  An Original Publication of POCKET BOOKS

  A Sonnet Book published by

  POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  Visit us on the World Wide Web:

  http://www.SimonSays.com

  Copyright © 2001 by Victoria Malvey

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN: 0-7434-2183-3

  SONNET BOOKS and colophon are trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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  Epilogue

  To Steve

  You’re still the one.

  1

  A true lady never displays her emotions in public.

  Quoted from A Lady’s Guide to Proper Etiquette, written by Lady Cassandra Abbott

  London, England

  May 1836

  “That corset needs to be tighter.”

  Cassandra Abbott felt the muscles between her shoulder blades knot at the sound of her mother’s voice.

  Lady Darwood swept into the bedchamber, moving to stand in front of her daughter. “If you are going to fit into your gown, Cassandra, you must cooperate, my dear.”

  “But I am,” Cassandra protested lightly, unable to draw a deep breath with the binding garment entrapping her body. “I don’t believe the corset can be any tighter.”

  “Nonsense.” Waving two fingers, her mother instructed, “Now exhale deeply.”

  Ignoring the throbbing in her head, Cassandra obeyed her mother. Tightening her hold upon the bedpost, Cassandra released her breath as the maid cinched the corset in another precious inch.

  Lady Darwood nodded in satisfaction. “Perfect!”

  Perhaps she looked perfect, but Cassandra seriously doubted she would be able to draw another breath. An inappropriate giggle rose to her lips as she imagined her mother’s reaction if she were to fall onto the bed in a dead faint. Still, years of training made her swallow both her laughter and her protest.

  Drawing in a shallow breath, she forced a smile onto her face and released her white-knuckled grip on the bedpost.

  Lady Darwood reached up to pat her silver-streaked golden curls. “That’s better, isn’t it?” She smoothed her hands down her own tightly bound waist. “No price is too high for fashion, Cassandra. A lady should always look her best.”

  Even at the price of breathing? Cassandra wondered, yet she held her tongue. Instead she lifted her arms as the maid draped the gown over her head. “Will Lord Linley be escorting me to the Perths’ ball or are we to meet him there?”

  “Neither, as His Grace is unable to attend the affair,” her mother replied, perching on the edge of a chair.

  Stunned at the reply, Cassandra twisted out of the maid’s grasp to face her mother. “But our engagement announcement appeared in today’s paper, so it is expected that we are seen together this evening.”

  “Expected perhaps, but not required.” Lady Darwood pursed her lips. “I must say, Cassandra, that I detect a note of displeasure in your voice. It is very unappealing.”

  Displeasure? Lord, if that was all her mother heard in her voice, she’d managed to hide the panic overwhelming her. Ever since her parents had informed her they were accepting Lord Linley’s suit, Cassandra had been fighting the urge to scream a refusal. The one meeting she’d had with her affianced, a gentleman old enough to be her grandfather, had terrified her. Pushing away that horrid memory, Cassandra concentrated on her conversation. “Forgive me,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound stilted. “The unexpected news that my affianced will not be attending Lady Perth’s ball caught me unawares.”

  Remaining silent for a moment, her mother stared at her. “Why do I get the feeling that there is something else troubling you?” Finally, Lady Darwood sighed as she rubbed at her forehead. “You’re still apprehensive about marriage to Lord Linley, aren’t you?”

  Cassandra couldn’t hold back her reply. “He’s so much older than I . . . and he seldom comes to town. Once we marry I fear I shall be left to molder on his estate . . . and no one seems to know much about—”

  “That’s quite enough, Cassandra!” Her mother rose from the chair. “I understand you have concerns, but you must trust in your father and me.” Stepping forward, she lay a hand upon Cassandra’s cheek. “When have we ever led you astray?”

  “Never,” Cassandra conceded, knowing that it was true. All her life she’d followed her parents’ advice, believing they knew what was best for her. Indeed, Cassandra knew that accepting the guidance of her parents was the natural order of life . . . and without order, there is nothing but chaos. Still, a part of her wondered how her parents could possibly be right in this matter. After all, how could she marry a man who repulsed her with his shaking hands, wrinkled skin, and fouled breath? Still, years of
good breeding overcame her fears. Surely her parents, who were older and wiser, knew what was best for her. . . . So, being a proper daughter, she must trust in them and believe that their advice would prove sound.

  “Then you must trust us in this as well,” her mother said softly.

  Ignoring the clenching in the pit of her stomach, Cassandra nodded once. “I will, Mother. You know what is best for me.”

  Satisfied, Lady Darwood gestured toward a box that lay upon Cassandra’s dressing table. “His Grace sent over these jewels for you to wear this evening.”

  Cassandra stood frozen as the maid retrieved the box and opened it for her. Gazing down at the ugly, garish necklace made of thick knots of yellowed diamonds and clunky lumps of gold molded to resemble leaves, Cassandra felt her dread deepen.

  Helplessly, she looked at herself in the mirror as the maid settled the weight of Lord Linley’s gift around her neck. Her reflection revealed a perfectly gowned, slender young lady with her light brown hair caught up in a classic style . . . a young lady whose blue eyes were clouded and dull.

  “Isn’t it lovely?” gushed Lady Darwood, moving to stand behind Cassandra. “You should pen His Grace a note on the morrow to let him know of your pleasure with his gift.”

  Drawing as deep a breath as her binding corset would allow, Cassandra forced a polite smile onto her face. “Of course I shall,” she assured her mother softly.

  Praying she wouldn’t pass out, Cassandra followed her mother from the room. As she stepped into the drawing room, her father rose to greet them.

  “My dears,” he said with a wide smile, “how radiant you both look this evening.”

  The little knot at the base of Cassandra’s neck eased as her father wrapped her in an embrace. “You always say that,” she teased.

  “Only because it is true.” Her father squeezed her once more before stepping back. “I consider myself most fortunate to have such a beautiful daughter.”

  “Your beautiful daughter was expressing concern over our choice of husband,” Lady Darwood said as she walked toward the mirror to adjust her necklace. “But she knows she can trust us to do what is best for her.”

  The warmth in her father’s gaze soothed Cassandra’s still jittery nerves. “That’s my girl,” he crooned in a soft voice. “Your mother and I only want to see you happy.”

  “I know,” Cassandra reassured her father as she leaned up to press a kiss onto his cheek.

  With a pleased smile, her father offered her his arm. “We should be off to the Perths’ affair.” As Cassandra tucked her hand into the curve of her father’s arm, he patted her fingertips. “Be certain you save me a dance, young lady.”

  “Of course, Papa,” Cassandra replied, feeling lighter than she had in two weeks. “Anything for you.”

  * * *

  “Are you interested in some company, my lord?” Glancing up, Bryce Keene sipped at his brandy as the voluptuous blond strumpet swayed closer to him. Leaning down, she whispered into his ear. “I’ve heard of your wicked ways.”

  “Oh, have you now.” Wrapping an arm around the strumpet, Bryce pulled her down upon his lap. She was a perfect example of the attractive whores provided by Madam Bouvier in her house of ill repute. “And just what have you heard, my beauty?”

  The woman pressed her lush bosom against Bryce’s chest. “That the Marquess of Towle knows how to pleasure a woman.”

  Bryce ran a finger along her creamy flesh. “It is my mission in life to never leave a lady wanting more,” he assured the strumpet with a laugh.

  She cooed prettily as she shifted even closer. “How about a demonstration, my lord?”

  “As much as I would undoubtedly enjoy to do precisely that, I’m afraid I have other obligations that demand my time at this moment.”

  Her full lips twisted into a pout. “Are you certain you can’t spare an hour?” she whispered, tilting her head to lick at his earlobe. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

  “Of that I have no doubt,” he agreed, settling his hands upon her waist. “Perhaps on my next visit I shall have more time to give you proper attention.”

  “Be certain to ask for Nicole,” she said in a disappointed voice. “I’ll be looking forward to your call.”

  Assisting the pretty Nicole to her feet, Bryce patted her backside as she sauntered away.

  “I can’t believe you passed up that morsel,” Jonathan Conner, Earl of Dunham, remarked as he sank into the seat across from Bryce.

  “Regretfully,” he assured his friend. “Unfortunately, I’ve other obligations.”

  “And you are undoubtedly exhausted from your earlier play with those two over there,” Jonathan added, gesturing toward two curvaceous brunettes Bryce had bedded earlier in the evening.

  “Hmmmm,” he murmured with a smile.

  “You do seem to prefer those dark beauties.”

  “Indeed, I do,” Bryce agreed, thinking of Francesca, the woman he planned to wed. “They have more fire.”

  “Especially when you take them on two at a time.”

  “True enough,” Bryce returned readily. “One alone would have drained me, but the two of them together . . . well, it left me nearly exhausted.”

  Jonathan snorted derisively. “Not to the point where you would have passed by the lovely Nicole if you weren’t so bullheaded in your determination to attend the Perths’ horrid ball.”

  Bryce had to laugh at his friend’s astuteness. “Perhaps, but it is a moot point, as my mother specifically requested that I attend Lady Perth’s affair this evening. The esteemed hostess is one of my mother’s oldest and dearest friends.”

  “I still say it will be horribly dull,” Jonathan remarked as he straightened his cravat.

  “No one says that you must attend with me.”

  Jonathan responded to Bryce’s remark with a smile. “That’s quite true.” His demeanor brightening, Jonathan leaned forward in his chair. “What do you say to meeting at Barrow’s Gaming Hell in a few hours?”

  Lifting a shoulder, Bryce agreed easily. “I’ll probably need something to revive me after the ball and a game of dice just might do the trick.”

  “I still don’t see why you feel compelled to comply with your mother’s request.” Jonathan chuckled softly. “It’s not as if you never disappoint your parents.”

  “Indeed not,” Bryce replied with a bitter laugh. “Disappointing my parents is something at which I excel.” Hell, all his life he’d met with nothing but his austere father’s disapproval. And his brother, Clayton, was an exact replica of his father . . . right down to his censure.

  So why was he going to Lady Perth’s ball? Bryce knew when his mother asked him that she half-expected him to disappoint her, but for some odd reason he didn’t want to prove her right. Though he might enjoy annoying his father and brother, making them bluster at his antics, Bryce hated to cause that look of bewildered hurt to settle into his mother’s eyes. Lord knew, he caused it to happen often enough, so if he could avoid that look by whiling away an hour of his time at Lady Perth’s dull affair, it was well worth the price.

  Thrusting to his feet, Bryce straightened his vest. “Since I know my parents expect me not to appear at Lady Perth’s, I’ve decided that I simply must . . . just to prove them wrong,” he remarked broadly, not wishing to expose the real reason behind his desire to attend the ball.

  “Who knows? Perhaps you’ll give the old boy apoplexy when he returns home.”

  Bryce snorted with a laugh. “This just might do it.”

  “Why aren’t you dancing, Lord Towle?”

  With an easy smile, Bryce bowed to Lady Perth. “I have been waiting for you, my lady,” he replied smoothly.

  A girlish laugh, more befitting a lady twenty years her junior, escaped his hostess. “My goodness, no one will ever be able to say that the Marquess of Towle is anything less than a perfect . . . charmer.”

  “Ah, for a moment I thought perhaps you might refer to me as a perfect gentleman.” Bryc
e pressed a hand against his chest. “Such a blatant falsehood would have stunned me.”

  Swatting her fan lightly against his arm, Lady Perth chided, “You make light of a most grievous occurrence, my lord. I’ve often heard your father and even your elder brother bemoan the fact that you pursue . . . less than desirable pastimes.”

  “A rake to the core,” he admitted with an unabashed grin. “I fear it is to be my fate.”

  “Than I shall pray for divine intervention, sir, as you are far too entertaining a fellow to spend the rest of your life alone, lost in devilish pursuits.”

  “Alone?” he queried, lifting his brow.

  Flicking open her fan, Lady Perth gazed at him unblinkingly. “Why, of course, my lord, for no proper lady would be interested in accepting an offer from a scoundrel like yourself . . . even if you are the second son of a duke.” She shook her head. “I fear there are far too many suitable lords for a young lady to choose from before any eager mama would cast her eye upon you, Lord Towle.”

  “Despite my . . . how did you put it? Ah, yes, my charming manner?” he teased her.

  “A dissolute rake may indeed be most charming, my young lord, but if the coffers are strained and the title stained, you shall have a most difficult time convincing a steady-minded lady to marry you.”

  But he didn’t want a steady-minded lady. No, he wanted Francesca, Bryce thought, as he gazed out over the simpering society misses who paled in comparison to his dark beauty.

  “You are undoubtedly correct,” Bryce murmured in return, knowing that Francesca, with her hot-blooded spirit, would laugh at Lady Perth’s assertions.

  “You realize I only say these things to you because of my dear friendship with your mother.” Snapping her fan shut, Lady Perth leveled a stern look at him. “If she weren’t touring the Continent at the moment, I’m quite certain she would be saying these things to you. However, because of her absence, I shall have to stand in her stead.”