Catch of the Season (The Marvelous Munroes Book 2) Read online

  Geoffrey grinned at her. “They’ve been married less than three months, moonling. What do you think she told him?”

  Allison’s blush deepened, and she suddenly seemed to find her rose-colored slippers far more interesting than him.

  “I assure you that I would come quickly whenever Genevieve called for me, Miss Allison,” Alan replied, eyes never leaving his wife’s radiant face. “But this time she told me something that could not have kept me away.”

  Allison glanced between their besotted faces. “Well, what was it?”

  Genevieve broke her husband’s gaze with obvious difficulty. “There’s a reason I’ve been ill, dearest, but I thought Alan should know first. We’re going to have a baby.”

  “Oh, Gen!” Allison cried, throwing her arms about them both. “How marvelous!”

  “Congratulations, old man!” Geoffrey agreed whole-heartedly, pummeling his brother affectionately on the back. “And you too, Sister Genevieve.”

  “Thank you both,” Gen told them even as Alan attempted to fend them off.

  “Oh,” Allison cried, “but you must tell Mother!” She glanced back at the empty staircase rising behind them. “Of course, it would be a lot easier if Perkins would move faster than an elderly turtle.”

  “Curious fellow,” Alan agreed with typical good nature. “I believe he thought we were lying when we said we were related.”

  “I’ll wager you miss Chimes,” Geoffrey added, thinking of the elderly unorthodox butler and man-of-all-work who had served the Munroes in Wenwood. “He may not be as proper as your mother would want, but he always took good care of you.”

  “I doubt he’d care to come to London now,” Allison replied with a sigh. “He didn’t much appreciate being left behind, and Chimes is awfully good about keeping a grudge.”

  “He’ll eventually forgive us,” Gen predicted. “He knew he wouldn’t have much fun here. And Mother was adamant that we needed a more polished staff if we were to send Allison up properly.”

  Geoffrey snorted. “As if she needs the right kind of servants to be noticed. I’ll wager you’ve already had more than your share of callers.”

  He regretted it as soon as he said it. The thought had been too much on his mind all the way up to London; he didn’t want to hear it confirmed.

  Allison preened, and his heart sank. “There have been a few gentlemen, two or three a day some days.”

  “Most notably the Marquis DeGuis, who is accorded the catch of the Season,” Gen confirmed before Geoffrey could comment. “If you think Allison is insufferable about it, you should see Mother.”

  “And she will be even more insufferable when you tell her your news,” Allison added, all purpose now that the initial meeting was over. “So lets get you settled.” She ignored Geoffrey’s scowl and motioned the footmen to take their guests’ hats and coats, and to carry the two valises near the door to guest chambers. As soon as that had been achieved, she pushed her sister and brother-in-law toward the stairs.

  Gen linked her arm in Alan’s, and they obligingly went ahead up the wide polished stair that curved up to the second floor. Allison started to follow, but Geoffrey caught her hand, holding her back as the footmen hurried off toward the servants stair at the back of the house.

  “Let them go. I’d like a word with you.”

  Allison tossed her head, as if ready to refuse anyone who spoke to her in so proprietary a manner. But she gazed into his face and paused. By the way her haughty look evaporated, Geoffrey realized he was obviously showing more than he intended and struggled to regain control of himself.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, glancing toward her sister’s retreating back as if to make sure they were out of hearing. “Is Alan not happy about this baby?”

  “Alan is in transports, as you can see,” he assured her. “As if all those presents he showered on your sister, one for each of the twelve days of Christmas, weren’t enough, I imagine he’ll buy half the toys in London for the little one. It was all I could do to get him to rest the horses on the way up, and now I know why. No, Alan is beyond delighted.” He swallowed and plunged ahead. “I wish to speak about you.”

  Allison paled, glancing again at her sister and his brother, as if wishing she hadn’t been left behind. “But I want to see Mother’s face when she hears the news.” She started up the stairs again, and Geoffrey had no choice but to fall into step beside her.

  “Your mother wouldn’t get excited if we told her the monarchy had collapsed,” he said. “I daresay news of her first grandchild will barely raise an eyebrow.” He touched her hand again, slowing her. “Please, Allison. We won’t get much chance for a private word, if I know your family. And that’s the only reason I came along on this mad ride.”

  She sighed and stopped at the top of the stair. “Yes, of course. You’re right. So, what is so important that it brings you all the way to London?”

  “Concern for you,” he replied, and despite all his efforts, his deep voice came out entirely too much like a caress. “I’ve missed you, Allison.”

  She brightened as if his words had lit a candle inside her. She opened her mouth, then seemed to think better of what she was going to say.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, fidgeting. “I simply realized that I must comport myself like a lady. So I will tell you that I find myself thinking of you often as well.”

  “You do?” Though her words had been spoken with uncharacteristic maidenly restraint, they were exactly what he had been hoping to hear. He squeezed her tiny hand in his much larger grip. “You can’t know how happy I am to hear you say that. I just want you to know, Allison, that you needn’t go through all this.”

  Allison pulled her hand back, frowning. “What do you mean? Are you talking about my Season or do you speak of the ball? Of course I must go through with that. The invitations have already been sent.”

  “Not the ball, moonling,” he said with a smile, the old pet name for her too easy on his tongue. “Of course you’ll want to do that. I know your fondness for dancing. I’m speaking of your London Season. You don’t need it.”

  Allison shook her head, frown deepening. “But every young lady of proper family is expected to have a Season. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve been waiting my entire life for it.”

  “But, Allison,” he protested, determined to make her see, “the purpose of a London Season is to find a suitable match. You have no reason to do that.”

  She blinked, freezing as she had when she’d first seen him. He hurried on, intent on making his case. “I know I’m not much of a candidate in your mother’s eyes. She’ll most likely prefer this marquis fellow.”

  “You, you’re proposing?” She sounded as if she was having trouble breathing. In fact, she didn't seem to be breathing at all. She wasn’t even moving.

  Dread seized Geoffrey. He grabbed her shoulders and stared down into her eyes, furious and frightened at the same time. “Allison, speak to me! I knew I shouldn’t have let you go like that. Are you in love with this marquis? Has he offered? Am I too late?”

  She gasped in a breath, trembling, and Geoffrey released her. “No, Geoffrey,” she said firmly, “to all three questions. I am not in love with the marquis, he hasn’t offered, and you aren’t too late. But no again, I will not give up my Season, not even for you.”

  “But,” he started, and she laid her finger to close his lips. The pressure was gentle, yet as unyielding as her words.

  “No, Geoffrey,” she repeated. “I know most girls go through all this to catch a husband, but that’s not why it’s important to me. This Season is the only way I’ll ever have standing in my family.”

  He reached up to remove her finger from his lips. “What do you mean?”

  Allison sighed. “It’s difficult to explain. Certainly I’ve never been able to explain it to my family. Have you never noticed how everyone treats me, Mother most of all?”

  “No. What has that to do with a
London Season?”

  “Everything,” she told him, straightening her shoulders as if her convictions were building. “To Mother, to Genevieve, even to Alan, and especially to that detestable butler, I’m still a child. They feel perfectly justified in ignoring what I want and what I say, out of some parental kind of logic that only their thoughts and feelings have value. This Season is my chance to show them I’m an adult, Geoffrey. I saw what happened when Gen came out. Suddenly, Mother could consult her on household management and bunion remedies, as if a series of balls and dinners had somehow endowed my sister with all feminine knowledge. If I marry you, if I marry anyone, before I’ve achieved that status, I will never have any standing in this family. Can you understand that?”

  He took a deep breath, relieved she had not fallen in love with anyone else, but saddened by her refusal to give up her Season all the same. “I think so. I feel the same way myself sometimes, especially around Alan. He and my mother both watch me as if they expect me to belch at the dinner table or wear muddy boots to bed.”

  Allison giggled. “I daresay you’ve done both.”

  His felt his grin reappearing. “I daresay you’re right. But since neither is a crime punishable by death, I fail to see why anyone cares.” He sobered, reaching out to touch her cheek and marveling at the softness. “I’m not perfect, Allison. And I cannot bear the thought that some perfect gentleman may steal you away from me. Is there nothing I can do to dissuade you from this course?”

  For a moment, he thought she’d give in. Her look softened, her lips parted. The feelings he was sure they shared hadn’t changed. She hadn’t changed. She was still his Allison. He closed the distance between them without thinking, like a seedling reaching for the sun.

  Allison whirled away from him and lifted her skirts to dash up the stairs.

  “You cannot stop me, Geoffrey,” she called back over her shoulder. “No one shall stop me. So you may as well give up now.”

  Chapter Three

  Allison was completely out of breath by the time she located her mother in the upstairs sitting room. She was only glad her mother’s calm response to the news that she would soon be a grandmother gave Allison a moment to herself. For a moment there, she’d thought Geoffrey was going to kiss her, and her heart had yet to return to its normal pace.

  As Geoffrey had predicted, her mother offered the slightest of smiles to Alan and a correctly placed kiss on the cheek to Gen. Allison was sure her own cheeks must be flaming red and hurried to a chair in a dimly lit corner where no one would notice her.

  Geoffrey followed her in. Her mother eyed him with distaste, and Allison waited for him to do something outrageous in return. That’s how he’d reacted when criticized in the past—retaliated with something even worse. But he must have decided it was the better part of valor to retreat, for he tactfully withdrew to the fireplace, picked up the wrought iron poker, and stirred the coals. Thankfully, his brother and Gen were too preoccupied with plans for the future to notice either him or Allison.

  She studied Geoffrey’s profile from under lowered lashes. The determined set of his generous mouth more than anything showed his annoyance that she had refused his suit. If one could call his veiled proposal a suit. Now that she thought about it, he had been rather circumspect, especially for Geoffrey Pentercast. For all her admiration of his form and enjoyment of his company, she had never thought he was in love with her.

  And was he as jealous of her beaus as he seemed? She had certainly teased him about that a number of times in the past, bragging about how many men she would keep dangling when she reached London. She supposed she had implied that they would be better men than he was. Small wonder he saw her impending come out as a threat to their friendship. Surely that was what had driven him to go so far as to suggest he might offer for her should she give it up. She couldn’t let that supposed offer deter her. She liked Geoffrey about as much as it was possible to like anyone, but she wasn’t about to give up her Season.

  Her mother was already calculating advantages of the Squire’s arrival. She readily accepted Alan’s offer to act as escort to balls and dinners with a regal inclination of her head. However, when she realized that that escort included the company of his brother, she went so far as to actually frown.

  “I do not believe young Mr. Pentercast will find London at all amusing,” she told Alan. “He would be far happier returning to Somerset to wait for you.”

  A shower of sparks shot up the chimney, and the coals glowed from Geoffrey’s sudden prodding.

  As if he hadn’t noticed, Alan smiled at his mother-in-law indulgently. “That may be true, but I don’t like the thought of him on the road alone. Besides, a bit of town bronze will do him good. However, if you prefer, Geoffrey, Gen, and I could repair to a hotel for our visit.”

  Allison watched, holding her breath, while her mother visibly weighed the difficulties of having her oldest daughter living elsewhere in a delicate condition against having Geoffrey Pentercast underfoot. Genevieve’s presence thankfully won. “That should not be necessary, Squire,” her mother said with a sniff. “ I’m sure we can find something useful for your brother to do while he is with us.”

  “How very gracious,” Geoffrey said. “I’m sure there are large pieces of furniture that need moving or perhaps the stables need cleaning.”

  Allison bit back a laugh as her mother’s nostrils flared. Still, her reply was calm.

  “Nothing so onerous, Mr. Pentercast. I merely thought you might accompany Allison and her set on their many calls. Another gentleman is always welcome among the young ladies, I believe.”

  “It seems Allison has enough gentlemen to interest her,” he said, straightening away from the fire and turning to his brother. “I might as well go home, Alan. There’s nothing for me here.”

  Allison shook her head. So much for undying devotion. She stood up and shook out her skirts. “You may stay or you may go, Mr. Pentercast. It makes little difference to me. Besides, the young ladies of my circle would not know what to do with you. They are used to dealing with gentlemen.”

  “Moderate your tone, Allison,” her mother said, tugging down her cuffs.

  Allison bridled. So did Geoffrey, but Alan stepped warningly to his side. “Geoffrey isn’t nearly the ruffian some assume, Mother Munroe. Why even Enoch McCreedy has been known to speak well of him.”

  Her mother wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something foul. Allison had grown up hearing stories of the famed Somerset horse breeder with the brash temperament. Mr. McCreedy generally had nothing good to say about anyone. He was so outspoken, so often, that her mother refused to even share the street with him when they happened to be in Wenwood on the same afternoon.

  “Yes, Geoffrey can be quite charming when he puts his mind to it,” Alan assured her mother. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Can’t you, Geoff?”

  Geoffrey’s brown eyes glittered dangerously. “Tremendously charming. Perhaps I ought to stay the whole Season, just to prove it.”

  “That will hardly be necessary,” her mother interjected, entirely too quickly. “However, I’m sure your company the next week should be…interesting.”

  He bowed to her, but his eyes strayed to Allison, who had to stop herself from cringing at the frustration there. “Interesting it shall be, madam. I promise.”

  –

  Allison began the next day prepared to do battle. This was her Season; she had planned for it, worked for it, waited for it. She was not about to let Geoffrey Pentercast spoil even so much as a day of it. Consequently, she got up at her usual early hour, well before Geoffrey had climbed from bed; fed Pippin her ferret and tousled his fur; then met her cousin Margaret Munroe for their daily constitutional around Mayfair.

  Allison knew her mother did not appreciate Margaret. Few people did. Margaret, a second cousin to Allison and Genevieve, could only be called an Original. Her coal black hair was starting to grey at the tender age of twenty, making it look as if she had sprinkled
her braided bun with salt. Her sharp, crystal blue eyes looked out at an imposing height that even Allison could not match. Yet if anything could be termed the least bit disproportional about her, it was her bust line, whose generous proportions often had the gentlemen raising their quizzing glasses as she passed.

  As if she didn’t make a striking enough figure, she had an opinion about every subject, and she wasn’t afraid to state it, loudly and at great length. This tendency, coupled with an innate curiosity she found impossible to curb, made her the bane of most social gatherings. Like Allison, however, she had two qualities that endeared her to at least some members of the ton: there wasn’t a horse she couldn’t ride and there wasn’t a partner she couldn’t outlast on the dance floor. Allison found her company invigorating and her conversation stimulating.

  That morning was no exception. Allison was not long in commenting on Geoffrey’s arrival the night before. Of course, Margaret had thoughts on the matter.

  “That’s the one you were prosing on about the last few weeks,” she interrupted Allison in mid-explanation as they strode along the Mayfair street. “The burly fellow from Somerset?”

  “Yes.” Allison sighed. “I truly didn’t expect him here and attempting to propose of all things.”

  “Certainly not,” Margaret agreed, but she winked conspiratorially. “Though it sounds as if it might be enjoyable to have him with us the next week or so.”

  “You’ll have fun. He’ll give as good as you give.” Allison grinned at the thought of Margaret and Geoffrey in a horse race. Then she sobered, knowing that it would do neither’s reputation any good. “Although Mother doesn’t like it above half. And I don’t want to think what will happen should he meet the marquis.”

  Margaret clasped her hands behind her back and increased her strides. “You are intent on capturing him, then?”

  “The marquis?” Allison faltered in her attempt to keep up. “I would never be so bold! He’s the most sought after gentleman on the marriage mart, the catch of the Season. What makes you think I could set my cap for him?”