You, however, may gnash your teeth and rage all you want. The deed is done, and nothing on this earth will undo it, not even you.

  ―Excerpt of a letter from Lawrence Grenville, The Most Honourable, The Marquess of Bainbridge to his father, His Grace, The Duke of Axton.

  19th July 1839, Half Moon Street, Mayfair, London.

  Dare paused and looked back at the house, frowning.

  “What is it?” Elspeth asked.

  “I hope he knows what he’s doing, that’s all.”

  Elspeth snorted, giving an angry shake of her head.

  “I shall never forgive him,” she said, her heart bleeding for poor Arabella.

  “He didn’t do it all by himself, love,” Dare reminded her gently as he handed her up into their carriage, but Elspeth was not feeling very generous towards Lord Bainbridge.

  He might have been a good and loyal friend to her husband, but he had tricked poor Arabella into being his wife, and that was surely unforgiveable.

  “Nonetheless, he planned the whole affair with the sole intention of trapping her.”

  “I nearly did the very same thing.”

  Elspeth looked up at her husband as he sat beside her in the carriage. “You didn’t go through with it, and whose idea was it to trap me in the first place, hmmm?”

  Dare considered this and said nothing, which was answer enough.

  “She was going to trap Louis.”

  Elspeth huffed. “I don’t pretend that Arabella acted well. It was ill judged, I grant you. I cannot think what got into her, but she at least was motivated by love and real desire to make Louis happy.”

  “And you think Bainbridge could not give the same excuse?”

  Elspeth turned to look at him, frowning. “Can he?”

  Dare shrugged. “I think Bainbridge is looking for someone to save him, love.”

  He reached out and caressed her cheek. Elspeth shivered under his touch.

  “He saw how you cared for me, how you stood by me, and I think he wants that too, very badly. Everybody always remarks how kind and gentle and sweet-natured Arabella is. I think he longs for a little of that kindness for himself.”

  “So he took it, instead of waiting for it to be given,” Elspeth said softly. “That is not how one goes about winning a woman’s trust, nor her heart. And he was not alone all his life, as you were. He has a family.”

  Dare laughed at that and shook his head. “Honestly, love, I think the fates dealt me a better hand than Bainbridge. All those rumours of madness in the Grenville blood are not unfounded. It’s a wonder he’s as sane as he is.”

  Elspeth felt a jolt of anxiety for Arabella at his words as she remembered the rumours about the marquess’s father, the Duke of Axton, and Bainbridge himself. “Is… Is he mad? He wouldn’t… hurt her?”

  She watched as Dare curled his fingers about hers. “He is a difficult and complicated man. He can be an utter devil when his temper frays, but he is never angry for long, and no, he would never hurt her. Bainbridge doesn’t care for many people, but for those few he does, he would do anything for them, no matter what. I believe he truly cares for Arabella. I only hope she can forgive him enough to get know the man he really is.”

  Elspeth sighed, the knot of worry that made her shoulders tight beginning to unravel a little.

  “He came to you the moment he heard you were ill,” she admitted reluctantly. “And he was very kind. He even cared for you himself, to give Mrs Grigson and I some rest. I would never have believed a marquess would lower himself to do such a thing, but he insisted.”

  “He can be unexpectedly kind and generous,” Dare agreed.

  “I suppose so,” she said, still uncertain but relaxing somewhat.

  “Well then,” he said, before reaching for Elspeth and hauling her onto his lap.

  “What are you doing?” she protested, though a smile tugged at her lips. “We will be back home soon.”

  “I know, but I need a moment alone with my wife.”

  Elspeth smiled and stroked his thick hair back from his forehead as he gazed up at her.

  “I’m sorry, have my family been a terrible trial to you? I’m afraid they are rather… excitable. We could have stayed at a hotel, I suppose, but Mama would have been so disappointed. She rather loves you, I think.”

  Dare shook his head. “Not at all. The feeling is mutual, I assure you. I’ve enjoyed every moment. It is wonderful to be a part of your family, to see how you all love each other, and your mama makes me laugh. She’s got a very naughty sense of humour, which aligns rather perfectly with my own.”

  Elspeth rolled her eyes.

  “You have no idea,” she muttered, smiling as he laughed and kissed her fingers.

  “I just never expected to be welcomed as I have been. I thought they’d hate me forever.”

  “No one could possibly hate you above five minutes. No matter how badly you behave,” Elspeth said with a huff of laughter. “You are far too charming, and you know it.”

  He gave her a dubious glance. “I’m sure you hated me for longer than five minutes.”

  “I did not,” she said indignantly.

  “You compared me to mould,” he reminded her, giving her a mournful glance that made her want to giggle.

  “No,” she said sternly, trying hard to keep her countenance. “You were the one who suggested you were growing on me—like mould.”

  “Perhaps,” he said with a heavy sigh. “But you definitely compared me to the nasty black kind that grows in unpleasant places.”

  Elspeth bit her lip. It took a considerable effort to rearrange her face.

  “But I didn’t tell you to go away,” she reminded him, her voice trembling with the effort of not laughing.

  “No, but you threatened to hit me with a blunt object and keep my tiny brain in a jar, like a pickled walnut,” he reminded her.

  “Oh, Daire,” she said, suddenly horrified by how she’d spoken to him that day. “I didn’t know you then or I would never… never—”

  He silenced her by pulling her head down and kissing her very thoroughly. By the time he released her, Elspeth was flushed and breathing hard.

  “Peawit,” Daire said affectionately. “I deserved everything I got, and well you know it. Besides, I adored sparring with you. I fell in love with you so hard and fast I hardly knew what was happening until it was far too late.”

  Elspeth sighed, laying her head on his shoulder. Daire’s hand slid over her hip, a possessive gesture that made her smile.

  “You know,” he said, a teasing note to his words. “You also said we wouldn’t have any children.”

  “Ah, yes.” Elspeth nodded, remembering that conversation. He had made her quite exasperated. “So I did.”

  “Have you changed your mind about that?” Daire turned a little sideways, regarding her solemnly.

  “You know very well I was not taking that conversation any more seriously than you were. You were only trying to provoke me, and you succeeded very nicely.”

  “I was trying to provoke you,” he admitted, grinning ruefully. “But the thing is, Elspeth, I was serious too. I think that’s when I knew for sure. I had this image of us together as I said the words and of a little girl, with blonde ringlets just like her mother and… and I fell.”

  Elspeth stared at him and blinked very hard as her vision blurred and her throat grew tight. “Oh, Daire. You wretched man. Trust you to make it impossible for me. I didn’t want to tell you yet, for I’m not the least bit certain, but… Oh, come here.”

  She took his hand and slid it over the gentle curve of her belly.

  His breath caught as he stared at his large hand, splayed over her stomach. She smiled as his gaze flew to hers.

  “A child?” he whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief. “But—”

  “I think so, and really I don’t know why you look so astonished. It’s not like we’ve not taken every opportunity to… well.” Elspeth broke off and giggled.

  Daire wasn’t laughing. He was staring at her with wonder, and… and he looked rather terrified, actually.

  “Elspeth,” he said, panic in his voice. “I was only teasing you! I… I c-can’t. Me, a… a father? I don’t know… I don’t know how!”

  Elspeth reached up and took his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her.

  “You didn’t know how to be a husband either,” she said gently, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. “But you’ve made a wonderful job of that, because you are kind and generous and patient. So, you will make a wonderful job of being a father too, for you will never neglect your children, never make them feel unwanted or unloved, or anything less than perfect just the way they are. Will you?”

  She held his gaze as his breathing steadied.

  “No,” he said, his voice firm. “No, I will never let them believe they are anything other than just what I wanted, for it wouldn’t be true. Any child of yours will be just what I always dreamed of, Elspeth, and I will do my best to be a good father. I will. I promise.”

  Elspeth nodded, smiling at him as a tear tracked down her cheek.

  “I believe you,” she said. “I believe you.”

  She kissed him. Daire slid arms around her and held her close until the movement of the carriage stopped. He raised his head. Pulling the window curtain aside a little, he peered out and frowned.

  “Why have we stopped? This isn’t your parents’ house.”

  Elspeth smiled at him, trying to tamp down her excitement. “I know, but I have a surprise for you.”

  “Another one!” he exclaimed. “Good Lord, Elspeth, I’m not sure my heart can take another today.”

  She huffed at him and shook her head. “Well, you weren’t supposed to have that surprise today, you dreadful creature. Honestly, though, if you will go about saying such romantic things to me, it’s the least you can expect you know.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said gravely. “I shall try to be beastly to you for the rest of the day.”

  “Good.”

  They were both being absurd, but that was one of the reasons she loved him so. Unlike Greer, she had never been comfortable being so carefree and frivolous, but Daire brought out her sense of the ridiculous and made her laugh as no one else did.

  She climbed off his lap just in time, as the footman opened the door. Daire jumped out and reached back to hand her down, frowning as he saw they’d arrived in the midst of a very grand stables.

  “Lady Roxborough,” said a large burly man who strode across the yard to greet them.

  “Mr Smithton?”

  “Aye, my lady, a pleasure to meet you at last.”

  Elspeth beamed at the man and ignored Daire’s curious glance as he was clearly wondering what she’d been up to. “My Lord Roxborough, allow me to introduce Mr Smithton. Mr Smithton, my husband.”

  Daire greeted the man politely, at a loss to understand why they were here, but willing to go along with whatever it was Elspeth had planned for him.

  “If you would like to come this way, my lord, my lady. He’ll be ready to make the journey back to Derbyshire next week as arranged.”

  “He?” Dare asked, turning to Elspeth, but she only grinned and refused to say any more.

  So, they followed the man towards the stables, where he opened one of the stalls and gestured for them to go in. Dare entered the stall, perplexed, and then stopped in his tracks as his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he heard a quiet whimpering and squeaking.

  In the straw lay a large bloodhound bitch who gave a heavy sigh as her brood of squirming puppies tugged at her teats, suckling greedily.

  Dare turned to stare at Elspeth.

  “These are very fine dogs, I am told. Much in demand,” she said, watching his face intently.

  “Oh, that they are, my lady,” Mr Smithton said with enthusiasm. “His lordship is keeping four, and two of them are reserved for the Duke of Bedwin. Another two are for Viscount Cavendish.”

  Dare looked back at the puppies, his throat suddenly tight. “There’s nine.”

  Elspeth nodded and took his hand, her slender fingers curling about his. “You said you always wanted a dog. I thought it about time you had the real thing, and not just the ghostly variety.”

  As the pups had finished feeding, Mr Smithton bent and inspected them, choosing one from among the wriggling pile. “This fine fellow is yours, my lord.”

  Dare swallowed hard as the pup was put in his hands. It bit playfully at his fingers and Dare laughed, a choked sound as he caressed the impossibly soft long ears.

  “Elspeth,” he said helplessly, relieved when Mr Smithton retired from the stables, leaving them alone, for he feared he might weep like a girl.

  “There might also be a little West Highland terrier waiting for you at home,” she admitted, smiling at him. “Like in Landseer’s painting, you see? You liked it so much and I so wanted to make you happy.”

  It was no good. Try as he might to behave like a grown man, his wife had completely destroyed his composure. He gave a helpless sob and Elspeth pulled him into her arms, careful not to squash the little pup between them.

  Elspeth held him tight, stroking his hair as he struggled to get himself under control. Once he felt he could speak again, he pulled back a little to stare at the dog, before raising his eyes to hers.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much. I never dreamed I could have this, all of this. You’ve given me everything, Elspeth. More than I ever dared believe possible, not in my wildest dreams.”

  “Well, it’s only fair,” Elspeth said, reaching up and curling her hand about his neck. “For you are my wildest dream.”

  Dare laughed and made not the slightest protest when she pulled his head down to hers for a kiss.

  “Love me forever, Elspeth,” he whispered against her lips. “I dare you.”

  Keep turning the page for a sneak peek of the next book in the Daring Daughters series...

  Dare to Cause a Scandal

  Daring Daughters Book four

  Their mothers dared all for love.

  Just imagine what their daughters will do…

  A one track mind…

  Miss Arabella Hunt is a vivacious redhead with a kind heart and decisive nature. The daughter of the man who owns the notorious gambling den known as “Hunters” has set her sights on the beautiful Louis César de Montluc, the Comte de Villain.

  The trouble is, the devil doesn’t know she exists.

  Mad, bad and dangerous to know…

  Lawrence Grenville, the Marquess of Bainbridge, is a man with a damaged reputation and an uncertain temperament. His family is renowned for every kind of vice, and madness is said to run in his blood. Having recently seen his best friend find happiness and contentment with his new bride, Bainbridge wonders if he cannot follow the same path and put an end to the dissatisfaction and unhappiness that plagues his life.

  A tricky situation…

  When Arabella accepts Bainbridge’s help in securing the attention of Louis César, she has no idea what she is getting herself into. And when she finds herself trapped in her own net, she has no one to blame but herself.

  Mad as a box of frogs…

  Married to a man she does not know and is a little afraid of, Arabella hopes to find a welcome among her new husband’s family. What she discovers is a household filled with chaos and calamity, and drama enough for a dozen Greek tragedies. Her husband’s father, The Duke of Axton, loathes her on sight, and makes it his mission to chase her out of his son’s life for good.

  But for the first time in his life, Bainbridge has an ally… and the old duke has finally met his match.

  Prologue

  I don’t give a damn for your whoring or if you drink yourself to death, so long as you marry and produce your heir before you’re too poxed or insensible to do to your duty. Surprisingly, there are many women willing to overlook your shortcomings for the lure of your money and title. Even your father managed that much, if nothing else. Choose one, marry her and get a babe in her. It’s not as if I expect any more from you. I assume you are capable of impregnating a wife and producing a legitimate heir? The mangiest cur seems to manage reproduction without difficulty. Do you think you could rise to the challenge for once instead of scattering your seed into every worthless, if willing, womb in the country?

  ―Excerpt of a letter from Her Grace, Augusta The Dowager Duchess of Axton, to her grandson, The Most Hon’ble, Lawrence Grenville, The Marquess of Bainbridge.

  Two months earlier…

  29th April 1839, The Countess St Clair’s spring garden party, St James’s, London.

  It was the noise that drew him. Having grown up in a family where arguments usually resulted in damage to property and person, Bainbridge recognised the sound of a fight brewing. He didn’t really know why he was here at this blasted event anyway, except that Dare was hunting down Miss Cadogan and had needed a bit of hand holding to gather courage enough to gate crash. Well the Earl of St Clair might consider telling a viscount to sling his hook, especially one as disreputable as Dare, but a marquess? Oh, that was another matter. A marquess like Bainbridge… good lord, no. Heaven alone knew what he might do if he was pissed off enough to react badly. He might cause a scene, or worse. After all, the family were all barking mad. Everyone knew that.

  So they’d been let in, though the earl had made it very plain that the first sign of unacceptable behaviour would see them both strung up by their bollocks in his wife’s favourite Magnolia tree. Fair enough. Besides, he was only here for Dare, who for some reason was still his best friend, no – only friend – despite all the aggravation that position entailed. Best behaviour then, which meant he’d better not talk to anyone. He’d resigned himself to a couple of hours of boredom and keeping out of trouble, and had retreated to a quiet corner of the gardens, out of sight. At least then he didn’t have to put up with people gawking at him as if he might sprout a tail and horns at the least sign of provocation.

 

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