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Lord Carlton’s Courtship

Page 8

by Alexandra Ivy


  “Really? And what are they saying, Roma?”

  “Does it really matter?” she hedged.

  “I suppose they are suggesting I am too old to be pursuing a debutante fresh from the country?”

  “Of course not.” She blushed, her eyes sparkling with anger. “They are saying that I am dangling after you in the most shameless manner.”

  The dark head tilted backward as Lord Carlton gave a short laugh. “That must have rubbed at your prickly pride.”

  “It is not amusing.”

  “If only they knew the truth, eh, Roma? No wonder you treat me as if I am carrying a contagious disease. Would you like me to inform the gossiping tabbies that you have repeatedly rejected my pursuits and that I find myself in the uncomfortable position of worshiping you from afar?”

  His gentle teasing darkened her confused color, and Roma struggled to maintain at least a semblance of her usual composure.

  “Certainly not. It would be far better if you would simply leave me alone.”

  “I can hardly do that if we are to work together to discover what has happened to your brother.”

  “Have you discovered something?” she demanded, instantly forgetting her irritation. If he managed to find William alive and well, then she silently promised that she would willingly kiss the ground he walked on. She would do anything to save her brother. “Do you know where he is?”

  “No.” He shook his head, his voice gentle. “I am afraid not. But I am quite sure that we will have some news very soon.”

  The sharp flare of hope faded back to the dull ache that had haunted her for the past month.

  “And I am just expected to wait?” she demanded, unreasonably blaming this man for the frustration seething in her heart.

  “What else can you do, Roma?” he asked, his expression somber. “For the time being we must be patient.”

  “That is easy for you to say. It isn’t your brother who is missing, perhaps hurt and in need of help,” she accused. Despite the logical part of her mind warning her that Lord Carlton could be her greatest ally, she couldn’t prevent herself from striking out in annoyance. It was that or throw herself into his arms and sob her troubles onto his broad shoulders, she acknowledged with a flash of insight. She wasn’t nearly as strong as she pretended to be. “William would certainly be doing everything possible to search for me if the situations were reversed. Why am I supposed to be content to simply wait for you to tell me what I can or can not do?”

  “Because the world is a very unfair place,” he retorted, tapping a finger on the end of her nose. “And because I have already done everything possible for the moment. As difficult as it might be, you must trust me, Roma.”

  Strangely enough Roma knew that deep down she did trust him. No matter how he might disturb her, there was something very solid and dependable about his large frame and classic features. Still, she wasn’t about to reveal such an unexpected failing to the arrogant man.

  “I’d as soon trust a snake, Lord Carlton,” she informed him in a haughty tone.

  His chuckle sent a tingle of excitement down her spine and without warning, he took hold of her hand.

  “You truly are an enchanting creature, my dear. Until tomorrow.” He gave an elegant bow, bringing her fingers to his lips in a slow motion. “I look forward to our ride with great anticipation.”

  Quite determined to inform him that she had no intention of riding with him tomorrow or any other day, Roma gave a toss of her head, but even as she prepared to give him a proper set-down, he flashed a wicked grin and, with one smooth motion, deserted her in the small alcove.

  Dragging in an angry breath, she ignored the lingering scent of warm male skin and enticing cologne. Somehow she had been outmaneuvered again by this devious man. She had no doubt that tomorrow afternoon he would arrive at the house, fully expecting her to meekly concede to his wishes.

  A sudden, highly dangerous glint entered her eyes as she watched him make his slow exit from the room. Her father had perhaps been one of the greatest tacticians the military had ever known, and she wasn’t his daughter for nothing.

  If Lord Carlton wished to interfere in her life for his own amusement, he would soon learn he had chosen the wrong woman for such a game. She could do some maneuvering on her own, and she couldn’t wait to see how he enjoyed being treated with such careless arrogance.

  Seven

  “The devil take you, Giles; you know I can not abide parading up and down the park like some peacock on display,” Jack Howe grumbled, wondering if it was the vast amount of burgundy he had drunk the night before or the vile remedy for a hangover his unsympathetic valet had insisted he swallow that was causing the dull ache behind his eyes. “I can only assume you lost a wager with some fool at White’s last evening and now must pay the penalty.”

  A portion of Lord Carlton’s normal humor was distinctly absent as he scanned the numerous carriages that clogged the street. With a strained control, he kept his frisky bays in check, inwardly sympathizing with their restless need for urgency. He felt the same desire to thrust his way though the slow-moving vehicles. Dash it all, how was he supposed to catch up to Roma and that Scowfield cad if he was forced to go at this snail’s pace?

  “Must you rattle on in such a manner, Jack?” he asked in exasperation. “It is tedious enough to be trapped in this traffic with meddling dowagers and empty-headed debutantes without being subjected to your endless stream of complaints.”

  More than a little offended, Jack threw himself back in his well-padded seat with a wounded sniff.

  “You needn’t fly into a pet, Giles. I can not imagine what has gotten into you lately.”

  Giles swallowed a self-derisive smile. He knew exactly what had gotten into him. A five foot nothing of a chit with a pair of hazel eyes and an irritating ability to intrude into his thoughts on a regular basis. That, however, was not something he would admit to anyone.

  “I haven’t the least notion what you are bleating about, Jack,” he retorted in an offhand manner.

  “No?” Jack carefully turned his aching head to study the finely chiseled profile beside him. Although Giles appeared as elegantly turned out as ever, Jack sensed an edge of distraction about the handsome features, one he had never noticed before. It was as if he had run headlong into a brick wall and was still reeling from the impact. “After years of treating Polite Society with barely concealed contempt, you suddenly appear at a variety of functions, more often than not singling out Miss Allendyle for your attention, before disappearing without a word to anyone else. And now you’ve even taken to parading through the park like a veritable dandy. I just do not understand what is going on.”

  The irrepressible twinkle returned to Giles’s eyes as a peevish note entered Jack’s tone. He was well aware that his cousin faithfully attempted to pattern his life in the same mold as his own. It was a knowledge that had more than once kept him from any outrageous exploits. Now he couldn’t help but find humor in the notion that his impressionable cousin was offended by his current behavior.

  “I did not appear at a variety of functions, Jack,” he corrected in mild tones. “I appeared at precisely two and behaved with the utmost decorum.”

  Jack let out a loud, very ungentlemanly snort. “Do not attempt to fob me off, Giles. There is something distinctly odd about your sudden interest in Miss Allendyle.”

  “I can not imagine why. She is a remarkably beautiful woman.”

  “And clearly dangling after you like a hundred other debutantes,” Jack burst out in frustration. “Normally you give such obvious lures a wide berth.”

  Giles laughed, remembering Roma’s angry accusations of the night before.

  “Any notion that Miss Allendyle is attempting to lure me into marriage is quite ridiculous. I will admit there have been moments when I suspected she was clever enough to pretend an indifference in an effort to capture my interest, but I have come to the conclusion that her fervent dislike toward me is completely genuine
.”

  His amused, rather meditative tone had Jack regarding him with open puzzlement.

  “Do you mean to say this Miss Allendyle has not tossed her heart at your feet?”

  Giles smiled with blithe unconcern. “She thoroughly detests me.”

  “Do not gammon me, Giles. Debutantes have gone into transports since you left Oxford and took your place in London Society. I refuses to believe Miss Allendyle can be any different.” Jack frowned, clearly disturbed by the implication in his cousin’s words.

  “I assure you, Jack, Miss Allendyle considers me boorishly overbearing and arrogant to a fault.”

  Glancing at his young cousin’s face, Giles was suddenly reminded of a puppy he had once raised that could never quite comprehend what had happened when he pretended to throw a stick and instead hid it behind his back. Obviously Jack found it difficult to accept that any woman could remain immune to the potent allure of his idol, but before Giles could assure the young man that he had all the normal faults and failings of every other male, he abruptly caught sight of deep auburn curls shimmering like tongues of flame in the afternoon sunlight.

  The brief glimpse of humor rapidly fled from his face, leaving it harshly masculine as he watched the approaching carriage. Roma looked extraordinarily lovely in a white carriage dress trimmed with silk ribbons, a gay straw hat perched at an impudent angle on her tousled curls.

  But it was the slight flush on her creamy skin and the decided glint in the hazel eyes that captured his attention. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her ride with the weasel-faced man at her side. Instantly a deep frown marred his face as he deliberately angled his chaise so that Scowfield was forced to stop or risk locking wheels.

  “I say …” With an effort, Scowfield brought his hired hack to an abrupt halt, his narrowed gaze stabbing Giles with a glare of dislike. “Can’t you keep a greater grip on the ribbon, man? You nearly ran us off the road.”

  Jack nearly choked at the angry accusation, his mouth opening to inform the rude man that Lord Giles Carlton was not only a member of the Four-in-Hand Club, but considered the finest whip in all of London. Before the words could tumble past his tight lips, however, Giles was performing an elegant half-bow toward the coolly indifferent Miss Allendyle, seemingly unaware that he had just been deeply insulted.

  “Miss Allendyle, what an unexpected pleasure.” He summoned his most charming smile, his shrewd gaze not missing the flicker of unease that flashed through her hazel eyes before Roma could erect her well-rehearsed air of staunch composure. “And what a charming hat. I have no doubt that within the week every envious female in London will be sporting just such a gay concoction.”

  It was the type of frivolous exchange that was expected from a notorious flirt, but Roma shot him a suspicious frown.

  “Thank you, Lord Carlton.”

  “Of course, not one of them could hope to compete with your own particular style,” he continued, blithely ignoring Jack’s puzzled stare and Lord Scowfield’s dark frown. “I have it on the best authority that several women have begun to add a dash of henna to their hair in the hope of capturing the radiant beauty of your lovely curls, but of course they have managed to do no more than become a pale imitation of the Incomparable original.”

  Despite her clear intention to treat him with a cool civility, Roma couldn’t entirely prevent the warm flush of embarrassment that rose to her cheeks at his lavish praise.

  “I am quite sure you are greatly exaggerating, Lord Carlton.”

  “Not at all,” he returned swiftly. “How unfortunate for me that I arrived too late to escort you today. I am quite sure your companion is the envy of every male in the vicinity.”

  His subtle taunt deepened Roma’s blush, but with the spirit he could not help but admire, she met his mocking gaze with a defiant tilt of her square chin.

  “Lord Scowfield and I are neighbors as well as old friends. Naturally when I discovered he had arrived in London I was eager to hear all the latest gossip from home.”

  Giles allowed a patently unconvinced smile to tilt his full lips. “Naturally.”

  The hazel eyes flashed. “And, of course, he was kind enough to extend his invitation for a drive last evening.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Giles retorted blandly. “It is a pity, however, that you have a previous engagement today. I most particularly wanted to speak with you.”

  Giles felt no remorse in using his only weapon to strike past Roma Allendyle’s impervious wall of indifference. It bothered him more than he cared to admit to see her seated beside the unknown man, and not even the knowledge that she was simply attempting to punish him for his careless assumption that she should fall in with his own plans could ease the simmering anger. Old friend or not, he had a distinct urge to plant a facer on the smugly smiling Lord Scowfield.

  Just for a moment, Roma wavered between wary suspicion and reluctant interest.

  “Was it anything … important, Lord Carlton?” she at last inquired, her prickly composure cracking enough to reveal a glimpse of the fragile woman beneath.

  A flare of warmth shot through his heart, and for no reason he could explain, he was abruptly reminded of the awareness he had experienced in the secluded alcove the night before. It was more than mere physical attraction, he silently acknowledged. The feelings racing through his body certainly held more than a trace of sensual attraction, but it was almost overshadowed by the odd desire to snatch her into his arms and protect her from the world.

  “Nothing that can not wait,” he amended with a certain reluctance, wanting to punish her for daring to spend her time with another man and yet reluctant to upset her unnecessarily. “Perhaps we can speak tomorrow?”

  “Yes, of course.” She bit her lower lip, clearly regretting her decision to punish the only man who could help in her search for her brother.

  A wave of unfamiliar guilt began to twinge at his heart as he met her darkened gaze, but before the admirable emotion could induce him to confess he had no news that could not wait, Lord Scowfield made an untimely attempt to assert his own influence over the suddenly confused woman.

  “It may have passed your notice, but for the moment Miss Allendyle is my companion,” he said, his tone filled with a lofty superiority that instantly set Giles’s teeth on edge. “And since I did promise her a drive through the park, I would appreciate having you move your cattle out of the way.”

  For a crazed moment, Giles measured the distance between him and the obnoxious Scowfield, knowing one swift punch would ensure his long, aquiline nose would remain swollen and painful for the better part of a week. Then, realizing Roma was quite contrary enough to sympathize with the much smaller man and blame him for the entire incident, he instead conjured up a sardonic smile.

  “But of course. Although I do feel I should point out that you should always warn a lady before dragging her off in a hired hack, Scowfield. You’ll discover in time they prefer to wear something that can be disposed of without undue upset. The seats you know are never quite clean, and the smell tends to linger no matter how much effort the maid might give. It truly is a pity for Miss Allendyle to have ruined such a beautiful gown.” His smile widened. “Still, you can always hope that your company is adequate compensation for the loss of a dress, no matter how expensive.”

  With a small dip of his dark head, Giles raised his whip to execute an uncomplicated, but extremely difficult maneuver, easily steering his pair away from the hired carriage. He did have the satisfaction of seeing Scowfield flush with anger and what appeared to be a renegade flash of humor in Roma’s wide eyes before he moved away, but any comfort he might have felt at the knowledge he had struck a blow to the annoying man’s pride was offset by the realization he was behaving in a most peculiar manner.

  What the devil was he doing riding through a crowded park when there were dozens of other pleasurable pursuits he could be enjoying? Surely it could not be for the simple need to see Roma Allendyle, if only at a distance?


  Clearly Jack’s thoughts paralleled his own, and as they once more entered the slow-moving traffic he sent his cousin a worried frown.

  “Did you know Miss Allendyle would be here today?”

  “As a matter of fact I did.”

  Jack frowned. “And that was the reason you insisted I accompany you?”

  Giles turned his pair off the main thoroughfare, ready to be away from the annoying crowd.

  “That and the fact I find your company thoroughly delightful.”

  “That is a bag of moonshine,” Jack retorted with a roll of his eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I would almost dare to say that you are attempting to make a cake of yourself over the lovely Miss Allendyle.”

  “But of course, you do know better than that,” Giles mocked, a self-derisive smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. “A man with my reputation would never trail after a woman for the mere pleasure of seeing her smile.”

  Although Jack was blessed with more than an average intelligence, he seemed to possess a remarkable blind spot when it came to his cousin’s unexplainable behavior, and it was with an obvious sense of relief that he eagerly accepted the cynical words at face value.

  “No, by Jove, that’s true enough. Not when the entire ton knows you have your pick of London’s most beautiful women.”

  A brief, unwanted image of Lavania’s glittering black eyes and pouting red lips rose to Giles’s mind. With a tiny shudder of distaste he abruptly thrust the thought away, feeling unexplainably displeased by the memories of the passionate relationship. In retrospect it was easy to see just how shallow and greedy the beautiful woman was at heart. And worse, he had to acknowledge that his own motives had been entirely selfish. For some reason the realization left a lingering unease in his mind. In an effort to put an end to the unwanted self-analysis, Giles determinedly turned his attention to more pressing matters.

  “What do you know of Scowfield?”

  ‘Scowfield?” Jack frowned, his forehead furrowing in concentration. “Not a great deal. I don’t believe he comes to London very often, prefers the life of the country gentleman. I believe there was some trouble a few years back, damn what was … Ah, I remember.” Jack suddenly snapped his fingers. “There was a rumor floating around that he played fast and loose with a young debutante. The girl was sent home and quietly married to some local merchant. I don’t think anything was ever proven, but there was quite a bit of talk, and a few hostesses refused to invite him to their homes. In the end he returned home, and to my knowledge he never dared return until now.”

 

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