The Diabolical Baron

by Mary Jo Putney

  When her stepmother still looked dubious, she said, “If you will not summon him, I will walk out there and get him myself. If anyone asks what happened, I shall tell them the exact truth.”

  Louisa shook her head in admiration. “You have grown a great deal, child. Will that captain of yours make you happy?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “By the way, the money you thought you had—your inheritance from your mother—has been lost through poor investments.”

  Caroline looked mildly surprised. “I wasn’t thinking of that—you had said it was not enough to signify. The money I meant is from a music publisher in London who bought some of my compositions. You needn’t worry,” she added hastily, “they will not have my name on them.”

  Lady Hanscombe looked more impressed than upset. “You mean someone actually gave you money for your tunes? Perhaps music does have some value. Best not tell your father, though. It would just make him angrier.”

  She sighed, then said,, “Try not to think too harshly of your father. He has not done well by you, but he is not an evil man. He just... does not concern himself with other people.”

  “I do not hate him.”

  Louisa found herself uncomfortable in the face of the pity in the deep blue eyes. After all, she had chosen Alfred Hanscombe freely, knowing his faults. Why should this chit be sorry for her? She gave Caroline an awkward pat and turned to the door. “I will find Lord Radford and bring him to you.”

  * * * *

  Jason saw Reginald Davenport’s entrance from across the ballroom. His brows knit in a slight frown; then he shrugged philosophically. Davenport was going to be his neighbor soon, so they might as well learn to be civil to each other. He was wearing evening dress but had a faint air of dishevelment that probably meant he had been drinking. Quantities of alcohol that would lay most men under the table made Reggie quarrelsome and very, very dangerous; all of his notorious deeds had come when he was under the influence. Still, he didn’t make a habit of causing trouble in respectable society, so Jason decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  He intercepted his uninvited guest near the door, saying pleasantly, “Good evening, Davenport. I hadn’t realized you were in the neighborhood or I would have had a card sent. How have you been keeping?”

  “Well enough,” Reggie shrugged. “The estate should be settled by the end of the year, but waiting is a confounded nuisance.”

  “Have you thought any more about the disposition of the main property?”

  Reggie’s mouth twisted in a slight sneer. “Playing carrion crow, Radford? I warn you, there will be no bargains. I’ve more than half a mind to keep the place and run it myself.”

  Jason stiffened but with effort resisted the bait. A host’s duties should not include fighting with guests, even uninvited ones. Instead he said, “No doubt it would be a good discipline for you; you have always shown a singular lack of that.”

  Reggie’s eyes narrowed but he did not reply in kind, perhaps remembering he was nominally a gentleman. “I understand congratulations are in order. I met your bride-to-be. She is very lovely.”

  “Yes, she is. I am a fortunate man.”

  Reggie’s eyes raked the ballroom, stopping when they reached Jessica. Her shining auburn beauty was the focus of a group of admirers. “Who is the redheaded Incomparable? I would surely have remembered her if we had met.”

  Jason clamped down his automatic surge of jealousy; besides the fact he had no right, he was sure Jess was more than capable of fending off unwelcome advances. “That is my fiancée’s aunt, Mrs. Sterling. Her husband died several years ago and she has not gone much into society.”

  Reggie raised his eyebrows approvingly. “A fine family to marry into. Perhaps I’ll make a play for the widow. Or does Miss Hanscombe have any younger sisters?”

  “None out of the schoolroom,” was the dry reply. “Have you a yen to set up a nursery?”

  “But of course! The succession, you know.”

  “It sounds like becoming a man of property will change you all out of recognition.”

  Reggie flashed a sudden genuine smile. “And high time, as you are so carefully not saying.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by Lady Hanscombe. After a low-voiced exchange, Jason turned to Reggie and said, “If you will excuse me, I must leave. I’m sure you are acquainted with most of the other guests.” Then he turned and followed her through the crowd.

  He stepped through the music-room door, then stopped in shock. “Caroline! What has happened?”

  She had stood at his entrance, raising her eyes to his. “I had a discussion with my father.”

  Jason’s voice was low and hard. “If he did that, you will be an orphan before the night is over.”

  Caroline raised one hand quickly. “Truly, it is of no importance. Indeed, you may feel like duplicating his action before I am done.”

  He lifted one eyebrow forbiddingly and said in a chilly tone, “Oh? What do you wish to discuss?”

  She hesitated, groping for the words she needed. He was in so many ways a stranger to her, his darkly handsome face cool and remote. This man had effectively bought and paid for her; would he accept her desire to rescind the bargain?

  The calm she felt after confronting her father started to shred away. She turned her back on Jason and sat at the pianoforte, her right hand stroking the keys.

  What flowed from her fingers was the theme of the sonata to Richard. As the calm crystalline notes surrounded her, she felt once more the sense of peace she found only with him. As she played, Jason circled the instrument and was standing opposite her. As the last notes faded into silence, he said quietly, “What is it, Caroline?”

  She lifted her head and looked directly into his dark eyes. “I do not wish to marry you. And”—she drew a steadying breath—”I do not think you truly wish to marry me.”

  His face was so still that she felt a sudden thread of alarm, yet all he said was, “Why not?”

  “I am in love with someone else.”

  An odd light came into his eyes and his voice was laced with veiled excitement as he said, “That is the whole reason? It is not because of anything I have done?”

  She was puzzled. “What have you done but treat me with honor and generosity? It is a poor return I make, but I would not condemn us both to a loveless existence.”

  She was half-fearful of giving him the opportunity to declare a passion, but he made no attempt to do so. Instead, he said formally, “I must of course accede to your wishes. And,” he said, a broad smile breaking out, “I wish you very happy.”

  She was a little disconcerted by how very well he was taking the news. She looked at him with narrowed eyes, then gave a sudden gasp of shock as pieces fell into place. The strange tension between Jason and Jessica, her aunt’s abrupt desire to leave Wildehaven, the early love affair Jess had once alluded to ... “I know why you don’t wish to be my husband,” she exclaimed. “You want to become my uncle!”

  He laughed, suddenly looking years younger she had ever seen him. “You have the right of it. I fell in love with your maddening aunt fourteen years ago, and never recovered.”

  Caroline drummed her fingers on the piano bench as she thought. “But she knew I was not in love with you. Indeed, she kept me from going into a decline when you offered for me.”

  Jason looked amused. “What a blow to my amour propre! Was the prospect so very terrible?”

  She had the grace to blush. “It was not you, but my own foolishness. You have a ... forceful personality, and the prospect of marrying you was an alarming one.”

  She shook her head in wonder; that frightened weeping child seemed half a lifetime behind her. “She should have known that I would be delighted to step aside in her behalf.”

  “Well, there was the settlement money that your family needed.” As Caroline’s eyes darkened, he waved one hand negligently. “I am sure your father has spent what was already transferred, but he need not return it. Ha
d I not engaged myself to you, I should never have found my glorious vixen again. And apart from the money, your aunt had the idea you had fallen in love with me.”

  As Caroline stared in blank astonishment, he added, “Something about hearing you sing love songs one night. She said you could not have sounded thus were you not in love.”

  “Ah-h-h,” she said, enlightened. “But you were not the one I sang them for.”

  “So it seems. Tell me,” he said curiously, “who is the lucky man?”

  She answered with a dreamy smile, “Richard Dalton.”

  “Indeed! It becomes clear that much transpired in my absence. He seems a good fellow, but can he support you?”

  She laughed. “You are sounding like an uncle already! I am sure he can, but I would go with him if he were a tinker with no more than a wagon.”

  He shook his head in wonder. “George was right— women are romantics. I sincerely hope Dalton can do better than that. I feel some responsibility for you, and will talk with him. I think your father has forfeited the right,” he added, with a pointed glare at her bruised face.

  She had been weighing whether to ask a question that had nagged at her, and now she plunged in. “Tell me, Jason. Why did you offer for me?”

  He hesitated, reluctant to tell her she had been the subject of a tasteless wager. A gently bred girl was unlikely to take kindly to the idea.

  “The truth, now,” she prompted.

  “George and I had a wager,” he said, deciding honesty was the order of the day. “I bet him I could persuade a randomly chosen girl to marry me within six months.” As she stared at him in disbelief, he added, “Your name was drawn out of the several dozen judged suitable.”

  His worry over her reaction ended when she dissolved into laughter. Shaking with mirth, she said, “I once told Jessica I thought you must have drawn my name out of a hat, but I never dreamed I was so close to the truth!”

  “Actually, it was a nut bowl.”

  His literal-mindedness set her off again, and after a moment he joined her.

  When they had sobered up, he said thoughtfully, “Do you know, I think we might not have done so very badly together had there been no one else in the picture.”

  She gave him an enchanting smile and offered him her hand. “I think perhaps you are right. But I know we shall both be happiest as things stand now.”

  He squeezed her hand very gently and smiled. “Yes. Now you must want to see your soon-to-be-intended.” He thought for a moment, then said, “You will want more privacy than this room affords. Indeed, we are fortunate no one has yet invaded with tonight’s conquest. Go out this door and left down the corridor. The stair at the end will take you to the armor room. That should be quiet tonight.

  “But I warn you,” he said firmly, “I shall allow you only a few minutes alone before I bring your aunt. Your credit will have quite enough to contend with over jilting me.”

  She looked suddenly anxious. “I am sorry it might reflect badly on you, when you have been so very kind to me.”

  He made a magnanimous gesture. “I have been remarkably well-behaved lately; it is time I did something for the gabble-mongers. I will find your captain now and send him up to you.”

  She rose and went to him, standing on her toes to plant a feather-light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, then slipped out the back door.

  He touched a bemused finger to his cheek. She was more like her aunt than he had realized....

  * * * *

  Reginald Davenport prowled the ballroom restlessly. He had forgotten the tedium of Polite Society: He usually socialized with hard-drinking sportsmen like himself. There was a certain amusement in watching horrified mamas shield their lambs from him; if he had a daughter, he wouldn’t let her near a man like himself. Who would know better than he how dangerous a rake could be?

  What revolted him were the rapacious women thrusting themselves or their bashful daughters in his direction. It was well known that he was about to inherit a title and a large, albeit encumbered estate. Their aggressiveness gave him an inkling why Radford was so devilish toplofty—it was a defense against the toadeaters.

  It wasn’t the sort of party where serious drinking was possible. Bored, he decided to indulge his catlike curiosity in a little exploration. He wandered out a door in the corner of the room and found himself in a quiet passage with stairs rising in front of him. Since the corridor held few attractions, he started to climb.

  * * * *

  Richard was standing at the edge of the crowd, his eyes searching for Caroline, when he found his host at his side. Radford had a mysterious gleam in his eyes as he said, “My former fiancée would like to speak with you.”

  “Former . . . ?” Richard spoke cautiously but his heart was beginning to beat faster. “Has she spoken to you?”

  “She has told me in the nicest possible way that I have no place in her future. For some unaccountable reason, she prefers you.” The words were wry but the tone amused.

  Richard drew in a quick breath before he asked, “Are you going to take a horsewhip to me?”

  “That would be too fatiguing. Besides, while I am naturally devastated, I believe I shall survive the blow.” Jason’s eyes went to the dance floor, where Jessica was whirling with an older gentleman. His gaze was possessive as it rested on her laughing face and splendid red hair.

  Richard smiled. “I think I understand. Have we been enacting a comedy of errors?”

  “So it would seem,” Jason laughed. He put his hand on Richard’s shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. “I wish you both very happy.”

  “Thank you. May I say that if Jessica Sterling will accept you, you are the second-luckiest man in England?”

  “I would dispute the ‘second.’” He looked at her again and said softly, “I met and lost her when I was twenty-one, and I never thought I would be this happy again.”

  He turned back to his guest and said, “Go out the door in the corner and up the stairs to the left. She is waiting for you. Jess and I will give you ten or fifteen minutes to”—he paused delicately—”discuss your plans.”

  Richard smiled, then made his way expertly through the crowd. Jason stared after him, again feeling that nagging sense of familiarity. It did not occur to him to mention Caroline’s injured face.

  When the dance ended, he once more snatched Jessica from under the nose of the smitten naval officer; that young man considered challenging his host to a duel but was unable to decide if it would be correct behavior before the pair had moved away. He shrugged philosophically; when one spends most of one’s time at sea, all love affairs are apt to be unrequited.

  Beyond saying her assistance was needed, Jason did not speak to Jessica until they had left the ballroom and were climbing the stairs to the armor room. When they reached the landing, she planted herself firmly and said, “What am I needed for?”

  A step below her, Jason found her lips were irresistibly at the same level as his own. Rather than answer, he leaned forward, cupping her face in his hands, and proceeded to kiss her with great thoroughness.

  Laughing and irritated at the same time, Jessica broke away when he came up for air. “Have you run mad? What if someone should find us here? And”— here her breath wavered as his arms slipped around her and he drew her against him,—”this is too cruel a thing to do. Please, every time you touch me it gets harder to let you go.”

  “That is exactly my intention,” he murmured, his lips moving down her neck and heading in the direction of her splendid décolletage.

  “Jason, stop this minute! What about Caroline?”

  He transferred his attention to her ear, then said between light nibbling kisses, “This is all a direct result of Caroline. Your adorable niece has decided that we should not suit and requested an end to our engagement.”

  “What!” She jerked away from him. “Jason, has she found out about us and determined to play the martyr?”

  Since her hand was the mo
st convenient part of her, he lifted it and ran his tongue from her palm down her wrist. She shivered and tried to pull away, but his grip was secure. “Jason! She loves you ...”

  He grinned at her, his mind temporarily off lechery. “On the contrary. She informed me that her heart belongs to another.”

  “Who?”

  “Your friend Captain Dalton.”

  “She’s in love with Richard?”

  “Yes, and singularly good judgment she is showing. Don’t you approve of him?”

  “Of course I do! He is a wonderful man, kind and amusing and as musical as she is. And very handsome as well.” Jessica was pleased to see her last remark drew a slight scowl from her beloved. “He is perfect for her.”

  “If he is so perfect, why did you not see it earlier, my darling pea goose? The romance must have developed under your very nose.”

  She looked at him blankly. “It never occurred to me that a woman could fall in love with someone else while you were about.”

  He gave a great shout of laughter and wrapped her in a bear hug, rocking her from side to side. “My darling, darling girl. You are going to marry me this time, you know. You can’t complain I haven’t said I love you, and if you suffer an attack of nobility on someone else’s behalf, I shall tie you to a horse and carry you off to Scotland! I’m told there are men there who will perform a wedding even if the bride is bound and gagged. Which I shall do if necessary.”

  “Really?” she said with interest. “What if it is the bridegroom who is bound and gagged?”

  He silenced her with another kiss. After some moments had passed, he said, “Shall we get married on Wednesday? That will give me time to procure a special license and to bring Linda here. I assume you wish her to be present.”

  The brilliant look she gave him confirmed the fact. “I’m glad you realize you are marrying a package— the two of us come together.”

  A purr and a pressure on his leg made him look down. Infallible feline instinct had brought Wellesley to the scene to leave orange hairs on Jason’s immaculate black pantaloons. “Actually, I was under the impression the package included three of you.”