The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (5 page)

The test had begun.

Geoffrey looked across the carriage at Ada. She sat next to Mamie, her slight frame almost hidden by the woman’s large hat.

They passed through the tall stone archway and turned down the winding drive. Ada peered past Mamie’s hat and stared out the window. Geoffrey glanced out his. What would this factory-girl-turned-society-miss actress think of Meadowbrook Hall?

The carriage rattled around a bend and crossed a rustic stone bridge.

Ladies and gentlemen, the great unveiling…

Ada gasped, her eyes wide as tennis balls. He hardly blamed her. Meadowbrook was the one part of his wealth he was proud to call Buchanan property.

Framed against acres of pristine forest, the magical mist of a marble fountain, and shadowy peaks of the Blue Ridge Mountains, the pale stone walls rose in kingly splendor. Like something out of a fairy story, wings jutting out on all sides, windows by the dozen, and towers that put a castle to shame.

The Monarch of the Blue Ridge, the papers called it. One of the few truthful things ever printed about the Buchanan legacy.

He waited for Ada to say something, but she just stared. Speechless. The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the immense arched doors. A footman wearing Regency livery opened the carriage door, handing out first Ada, followed by Mamie.

Geoffrey offered Ada his arm and led the way inside. At the door, he stopped and glanced at her. Face bleached to the color of muslin, the freckles on her nose standing out in sharp contrast. Twin emeralds huge against an expanse of white. Her upper teeth furiously chewed her lower lip.

This would never do. A bit of reticence his mother could understand, but not stark terror.

“Stop biting your lip, for goodness’ sake. Also, you’re not going to the guillotine, so you might try and compose yourself.” He added a commanding edge to his tone. If he got her mad, she was less likely to be terrified.

She straightened her shoulders, a spark igniting in her eyes. “Yes, Geoffrey dear.” Her smile was on sugar overload.

He grinned back. “Thank you, darling.”

Light streamed through the mullioned windows in the entrance hall, revealing a world of subdued grandeur, contrasting with the opulence of outside. Their heels clicked on the checkerboard marble floor as they moved inside. Travers, the butler, greeted them.

“The guests are assembled in the library, sir.” Geoffrey sensed the man giving his entourage a once-over.

“Thank you.” They crossed the hall and navigated their way to the library doors. Muted laughter and conversation spilled from within.

A footman stood by, holding the door. Geoffrey took a breath, drawing on his reserve of courage.

“Fiancée” in tow, he stepped inside, Mamie following.

Heads swiveled as the group of guests turned to stare. Ladies stopped whispered conversations, gentlemen straightened casual stances. An invisible spotlight fixated on them.

As did the gaze of the lady seated in the center of the room. Her eyes, the exact color of his own, widened.

“Hello, Mother.” He approached and bent to kiss his mother’s lined cheek. Up close, he sensed that, though she hid it well with her haute couture clothes and jewelry galore, Penelope Buchanan’s strength had continued to wane.

“Geoffrey, darling boy. You’re late.” She shook a beringed finger at him.

“Sorry, Mother.” Ada had fallen behind a few steps. He motioned her beside him.

“And who is this?” His mother pulled out her lorgnette and held it to her eye.

“This”—he put on a proud smile—“is the beautiful young lady who has accepted my hand in marriage.”

The gasp circling the room could have been heard across the house. His mother paled.

“Oh… my, Geoffrey dear. We… did not expect this.” She stood and approached Ada. “My dear boy has kept quite the secret. He never once mentioned you.”

He glanced at Ada. The ball had landed in her court and it was up to her to serve it back.

“Geoffrey is such a tease, isn’t he?” Ada laughed, the sound melodious. “He does so enjoy a surprise. I only regret, ma’am, that it had to be at your expense. But I do hope we can still be the best of friends.”

His mother’s chilly smile warmed a few degrees. “Why, of course, Miss…?”

“Ada McClane.” She bobbed a slightly crooked curtsy. “You probably haven’t heard of me, ma’am, but perhaps you know my aunt, Mrs. Landseer.”

“But of course.” His mother turned to Mamie, who, thank goodness, had chosen a more subdued ensemble today and left off the lip rouge. “Welcome to Meadowbrook, Mrs. Landseer. Any friend of Geoffrey’s is always more than welcome.” Though she played the society hostess to perfection, there would undoubtedly be a scolding later.

“Thanks very much.” Mamie smiled. “Charming little place you have here, Mrs. B. A veritable castle in the middle of nowhere.”

Charming. Count on Mamie to say something no one else in society would dream of. Mrs. B.? Seriously?

“How kind of you, my dear.”

Throughout the room, whispers began to circulate among the guests, like rustling papers passed across a schoolroom.

“Was your journey very tiring?” His mother turned back to Ada, who craned her neck to stare at the huge mural bedecking the ceiling. Geoffrey tapped her shoulder.

Her head came down to a normal height. “Pardon, ma’am?”

“Was your journey very tiring?” his mother repeated, louder this time.

Ada grinned. “No ma’am. Buchanan Railways does it up right and proper every time. Gets you where you need to be in high style and ahead of schedule.”

Geoffrey suppressed a sigh. Hadn’t yesterday’s etiquette lessons taught her anything? Luxury was something his fiancée should accept without question, not exclaim over.

His mother only smiled. “I’m so glad you think so. I’m very proud of my son’s achievements, as you must be, too.”

Ada nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes ma’am. Your son,” she glanced up at Geoffrey, adoration in her eyes, “is a wonder. That’s why I’m head over heels in love with him.”

His mother laughed. “How very sweet, my dear. Unconventional perhaps, but sweet.”

Two words that fit Ada perfectly.

Unconventional—and when she wasn’t fuming at him—very, very sweet.

Chapter 6

A
da hid a yawn behind her napkin. Dinner had been going on for what seemed like an eternity, course after course passed around by footmen wearing wigs. Gracious, those must itch.

From what she gathered, these people had three favorite topics: themselves, their friends, and their money. All of which might make interesting conversation for about ten minutes but became an insomniac’s paradise after more than that.

Such puppets, each a mirror image of everyone else. The women, all alike in their pastel dresses, diamond jewelry, and fascination with gossip. The men, penguins in white waistcoats, bow ties, and black tailcoats.
Their
conversation was slightly more engrossing, especially talk of the Spanish-American War and their European travels. But when the chatter turned to yachting, she blinked furiously, trying to keep awake.

“J. J. Astor undoubtedly has the finest craft ever to sail the seas. I heard he did a great deal of the design work himself.” One of the men, Mr. Cadwell Rutherford, droned on.

“The furnishings are simply divine, I hear,” commented one of the ladies, a willowy brunette wearing pearl teardrop earrings. Miss Violet Tremaine. Gorgeous enough to appear on the cover of
Harper’s Bazaar,
she had a face not soon forgotten.

“Have you ever been on the Astor yacht, Miss McClane?” Miss Tremaine turned her gray-eyed stare on Ada. Those eyes… she’d seen them somewhere before. But where?

Ada glanced at Geoffrey. He’d watched her attentively throughout the evening, probably fearing she’d make some terrible faux pas and destroy his plan.

“I have not had that privilege.” She took a sip of wine. “However, I haven’t been in society for many months. I’m sure Geoffrey will take me out on his yacht, won’t you, dear?” She lowered her glass and gave Geoffrey the adoring smile she’d perfected over the past hours. Not that he needed it. All unattached women bestowed upon him equal views of their pearly whites.

“Of course, darling. I’d be delighted to.” He gave her a smile full of promise, so blazing in its intensity that an equally bright flush braised her cheeks.

It seemed so real, the way he looked at her sometimes. He ought to have taken the stage.

“Perhaps tomorrow you could take me for a ride in your motorcar?” A random guess. Did he even have one? What if he hated the new amenity? Everyone but her would know that. Think her either uninformed or a sham.

“I would like nothing more.” He grinned, genuine excitement in his eyes. Another point scored. She’d been right.

Finally, dinner came to an end. The ladies all stood, and Ada followed suit.

The dozen or so women formed a line and proceeded out of the dining room. Why were the men not following? Was it some society tradition for the girls to play follow-the-leader while the men continued to eat?

They entered the library. Forming groups, the women chattered and gossiped in subdued tones while footmen brought around coffee and tea. As if anyone actually needed more to consume.

Ada took a seat by herself in a corner. She’d never been with these people without Geoffrey nearby. What if she said or did something daft and he wasn’t there to warn her?

The twig-thin, tawny-haired beauty, Miss Tremaine, sashayed in her direction. Ada folded her hands in her lap. Her stomach pinched. This woman was up to no good.

“Enjoying the evening?” Miss Tremaine took a seat, fluttering a fan over her face.

Ada nodded.

“But of course you are. What girl wouldn’t be, lavished with the attentions of such a charming man as Geoffrey Buchanan. You must love him very much.” She leaned closer, the overpowering scent of her rose perfume making Ada’s nose twitch.

“More than words can say.”

“I know exactly how you feel. Ever since I first saw Geoffrey, when I was seven years old, I dreamed…” She lowered her lashes and pressed her lips together, with a sigh. “Well,
que sera sera.
I hope you both will be very happy.”

“Thank you.” Ada had been around females long enough to spot a predator a mile away. Violet Tremaine was one such woman.

“Where
did
Geoffrey say you two met?”

“New York.” The words slipped from her lips before she realized her error. Newport—not New York. She nearly covered her face with her hands in horror. “I mean Newport. We first met there but became, er, better acquainted later in New York.”

“Mm-hm.” A thousand speculations flashed through the brunette’s eyes. “You don’t happen to know Mrs. Millicent Hayward, do you?”

Yes, but not in the way Miss Tremaine undoubtedly did. Last year, in an effort to earn extra money, Ada had assisted at an enormous fancy dress ball Mrs. Hayward had hosted. A memory flashed through her mind. That’s where she knew her! Violet Tremaine had dressed as Marie Antoinette, and Ada had accidently bumped into her while carrying an enormous tray, nearly dropping the array of cream puffs all over the woman’s ridiculous skirt. Uh-oh. She had to think fast. Violet Tremaine couldn’t remember her, too, could she?

“Of the New York Haywards?” Beneath her gloves, Ada’s palms went damp.

“So you do know her? I thought I recognized you from one of her soirees. She gives the most delightful parties, don’t you think?”

“Divine.” Ada forced a pasty smile. If one didn’t mind that her French chef was a hellion to work for and her butler a lecherous snake.

The door opened and the men entered the room. Ada breathed a sigh of relief as Geoffrey followed the group inside. With more eagerness than warranted for her role, she stood and rushed to his side. Though Miss Tremaine didn’t remember her, she should still stay as far away from the woman as possible.

“Missing me?” Geoffrey placed his hand on her shoulder. The warmth of him radiated through the thin material of her gown. She sucked in a breath. He smelled faintly of vanilla cigars and the men’s cologne that always clung to him. Standing so near made her want to press herself against him, lean into his strength. Feel his arms around her, protecting her from the Violet Tremaines of this world.

Stop.
The wine must have muddled her head. She didn’t want to be in Geoffrey Buchanan’s embrace. Wearing a corset so tight must be doing things to her good sense.

“How did you know I liked motorcars?” A smile edged his lips.

“I didn’t. I just guessed.”

“I expect to take you out tomorrow morning. That is, if you’re ready to travel at ridiculous speeds?” His eyes sparked with amusement.

“Oh, I’m ready.” She grinned.

“Not in the least bit nervous?”

She shook her head. “I’ve already trusted my future into your capable hands. One motorcar ride won’t make much difference.”

His laughter teased hers. “I like having you trust me, Ada McClane.”

The admiration streaming from Ada’s eyes gleamed brighter than the shining silver and black leather of the Daimler motorcar parked in the drive.

She clutched her veiled hat with two fingers, the other hand resting on Geoffrey’s arm. In the past days, he’d discovered all the nuances of the hesitant, yet firm way she placed her fingertips on his sleeve. The way she sometimes led, sometimes fell back. Standing so close to her gave him full view of the cute freckles on her nose and the intense green of her eyes.