A Lady for the Brazen Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  Chapter 18

  “This really ought to be a tremendously good event for us today, Imogen,” Adeline said brightly as Simmons, her butler, spread out a thick blanket and set their picnic basket down on top of it. “Oh, thank you, Simmons. We shall help ourselves to the picnic basket, my dear man. Do feel free to spend a little time now doing whatever it is you would wish to. You must not feel you have to watch this silly race.”

  “Thank you, My Lady, but I shall likely watch the race from the footbridge,” Simmons said and bowed at both women before turning to leave them.

  “I do hope so, Adeline. After all, the Duke very much scuppered our chances of speaking to anybody other than him in Mayfair. Really, I found him dreadfully tedious. And I do hope that he is not going to be in attendance today.”

  “Well, though it is not a private event by any means, I cannot help fearing that he might find his way down to the riverbank,” Adeline said with a wince. “But you must not be disheartened. The other ladies will soon be here, and we will set about our plan as intended.”

  The rowing race along the River Thames at Richmond had been set up suddenly. Lord Seaton and Lord Castleton had a well-known if amiable rivalry between them when it came to the pursuit of rowing. Imogen had heard that the two of them often challenged one another in their youth and, by all accounts, had been evenly matched.

  However, now that the two men were in their late middle age, neither one of them took to the choppy currents of the River Thames themselves anymore.

  Instead, they had each coached a small group of young men interested in the amusement and had ended up by challenging each other to see which of their teams might win a race. It had certainly caught the imagination of all who had heard about it, and was a perfect impromptu event for the London Season, especially when the weather was so fine.

  “Yes, and I do wish that the ladies would arrive soon. I shall feel much happier once I am engaged in conversation, doing what I came here to do in the first place, rather than sitting here quite exposed, waiting for the Duke of Dalton to invite himself to sit down on our picnic blanket.”

  “You have taken quite a disliking to the fellow, have you not?” Adeline said, casually looking all about her for any sign of the man.

  “Adeline, I did not like the way he sought to control the conversation. Did you not notice it? He would not even allow you and I to converse upon any matter. How could I think him anything other than boorish and tiresome?”

  “Quite so,” Adeline said, smiling with pride. “And I am glad that you have come to your conclusion on your own, my dear. And, of course, I never doubted for one moment that you would come to find just such a conclusion on the matter.”

  “I thank you,” Imogen said, suddenly thinking of the dreadful argument she had shortly afterward with the Earl of Reddington. “If only I could come to some conclusion about the curious behaviour of the Earl of Reddington. Really, that he could be so vicious seems quite unnecessary to me.”

  “Are you quite sure he was as vicious as you claim him to be?”

  “Oh Adeline, please let us not have this conversation again. I do not understand why it is you always come down on his side.”

  “My dear girl, I would never come down on anybody’s side but yours. And yet I cannot help thinking that he must have had some great reason for it.”

  “Some great reason for calling me vain?” Imogen said, scandalized.

  “No, that is not what I meant,” Adeline said, sounding a little annoyed.

  “No, I know it is not. Forgive me.” Imogen sighed and reached up to take her friend’s hand, wondering if she had once again taken a petty advantage. Just as she had with the Earl.

  As much as Imogen protested her own poor treatment in things, the entire exchange had refused to leave her. She was still reeling from the harshness of his words and quite how those harsh words had made her feel.

  She had never thought to gain the interest of the Duke of Dalton, and Heath Montgomery’s vague insinuation that she might have done just that had upset her greatly. And yet, had he not simply been lashing out at her, throwing her own insults directly back? Had she not accused him of vanity first?

  “Please forgive me, Adeline,” Imogen repeated.

  “There is nothing to forgive, my dear. I know that the attentions of these two particular men have put you under a great strain. And how could it not when you had come here fully determined to do nothing more than spend the entire London Season raising funds and finding out the true scale of the great task we face?”

  “You are as understanding as always; whatever would I do without you?” Imogen felt near to tears, although she could not entirely explain it.

  She did not know if she was relieved because her dear friend had forgiven her without question for her sharp behaviour, if she was frustrated by the idea that the Duke of Dalton would not leave her be and she would struggle to fulfil her ambitions for that London season, or if the harsh words of Heath Montgomery really had hurt her after all. Everything seemed so confusing.

  “Well, I perhaps ought not to have made so much of romance and what-have-you in the first place.”

  “But you did not.”

  “Well, I had tried to edge you in the direction of the Earl of Reddington, I must admit. But now that I see the trouble such a thing causes, I would not seek to do so again. I should have listened to you in the first place.”

  “But Adeline, you have done nothing wrong nor swayed me in any direction. And you and I can always say anything at all to one another, without fear of recrimination. I would not have it reversed now.”

  “Oh look.” Adeline was already distracted, her round face crinkling in the sunshine as she squinted across the great grassy riverbank at Richmond. “Speaking of the Earl of Reddington,” she began, talking distractedly as she studied the Earl’s party. “It would appear that he has made the great trek to Richmond in order to watch a little competitive rowing also.”

  “Oh, indeed?” Imogen said, feeling suddenly as if she wished herself anywhere else.

  In truth, she did not want to look in the Earl’s direction at all; she did not want him to even notice her there, and certainly not notice her studying him.

  “Well, whatever you said to him, my dear, must have worked beautifully,” Adeline said with amusement. “For I can see clearly that he has turned his attentions fully upon the dreadful Miss Jemima Ravenswood.”

  Imogen felt her mouth go a little dry; quite why she could not manage to look at the Earl and Miss Ravenswood, she could not say. But she knew that she could not.

  “She really is a little peacock, is she not?” Adeline went on in the robust style of somebody who does not realise for a moment the discomfort of their companion. “Really, she does not simply enjoy the attentions of the Earl, but her eyes roam this way and that to see who else is looking at her.”

  “If you are talking about Miss Ravenswood, then perhaps you ought not to look at her. After all, you do not want her to become aware of it,” Imogen said little pettishly. “She is a little shrewd and perceptive, I fear.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt.” As Adeline spoke, it was clear that she was still distracted by her observations.

  In the end, Imogen could do no other than follow her friend’s gaze, albeit surreptitiously. If nothing else, she wanted the subject to be changed as soon as possible so that they might make ready to begin their planned fundraising for the afternoon.

  But mostly Imogen wanted to have done with the thing; she wanted to look and then look away again. She wanted to find herself entirely unaffected by it all.

  However, when she peered quickly at the group, Imogen knew herself to be anything other than entirely unaffected. As much as the Earl of Reddington angered her, and as much as she thought herself to have little interest in him, there was something about the sight of him hovering about Miss Jemima Ravenswood that made her feel a little hollow.

  Perhaps it was because she did not like the young woman at
all, given that Miss Ravenswood had been nothing but rude every time she had encountered her. But, of course, Imogen knew that it was something a little deeper than that. It was the idea that the Earl could find himself to have fallen for such a young woman in the first place that upended her just a little.

  “She has done herself up quite purposefully, has she not?” Adeline went on quite oblivious.

  “Yes, I suppose she has.” Imogen tried to sound a little bored.

  However, she could not help comparing herself to the immaculate Miss Ravenswood. With her golden hair wound neatly onto the back of her head and her ringlets shimmering in the summer sunshine, Miss Ravenswood looked beautiful. She wore an ivory gown with a very smart pale blue Spencer jacket, the matching bonnet of which hung loosely from its ribbon which she held in her hand and gently swung back and forth.

  The Earl’s staff were spreading out blankets and picnic baskets just as Adeline’s Butler had done, and the Earl made a great fuss of Miss Ravenswood as she sank prettily onto the blanket and sat as if posing for her portrait to be painted in oils.

  Whilst Imogen was herself wearing a pretty ivory colour gown with pale pink satin trim about the hem and the neckline, still, she did not think herself so well turned out. And she would have given anything to have the elegant golden hair of Miss Ravenswood, rather than her own almost violently red hue.

  Imogen watched as the enormous picnic baskets were opened, and Heath Montgomery attentively poured Miss Ravenswood a glass of champagne. When he handed it to her, Imogen could not help seeing how their eyes met for a moment, and just how much Jemima Ravenswood was pleased for the attention.

  When the Earl finally settled down on the blanket as close to Miss Ravenswood as he could sensibly get without exciting comment, Imogen caught a sight of the Earl’s mother and Miss Ravenswood’s father. They both looked on approvingly before looking back towards one another. Imogen could not help thinking that the look which passed between them was nothing short of a great display of self-satisfaction. Obviously, both parents wanted a union to take place between the two.

  And it was the very idea of that union which seemed to unsettle her a little, at least enough to make her distracted.

  “Well, I would say that Miss Ravenswood definitely looks like the cat who caught the mouse,” Adeline said, highly amused. “Most pleased and satisfied with herself.”

  “Yes, I suppose she does. And very likely with good reason, do you not think?” Imogen thought her best approach was to speak about things as she and Adeline most certainly would have done ordinarily.

  “Well, I suppose it is a match agreeable to all.” Adeline shrugged and reached into a bowl of strawberries that she had just set out upon the blanket. “But whether it is a sensible or a good match remains to be seen.”

  “I daresay that is for them to worry about. Now, we ought to be keeping our eyes open for the other ladies. Really, I do not want to miss them, Adeline.”

  “No, we shall not miss them. And I have been keeping my eyes open for any sight of the Duke also. The moment he appears, I shall whisk you away and involve you in deep conversation elsewhere. Oh, there is Lady Rossington, look.” Adeline indicated with her head the place where Lady Rossington and Mrs Forsdyke walked side by side along the curiously bright green grass of Richmond.

  “Well, I think I shall attach myself to Lady Rossington for a while. She is not a great negotiator, but I think she can introduce me to a good deal of the people on our list,” Imogen spoke quickly, shaking her head when Adeline proffered the bowl of strawberries. “No, I really must get up from the blanket. I do not wish to be caught out as I was the other day and saddled with the appalling Duke for the entire afternoon. I must make haste.”

  “Quite right, my dear. Whilst you go about with Lady Rossington, I shall guard our very own little nest here. I shall keep Mrs Forsdyke entertained and see what news she has of our coffee shop meeting.”

  “Oh yes, I do think that would be a terribly good thing. And I must admit, a gathering of just that sort in a London coffeehouse is something that I find a little exciting.” For a moment, Imogen had forgotten the Duke and the Earl and Miss Ravenswood. At that moment, she remembered exactly what she was there for and was fortified by such a sense of direction. The idea of speaking in a coffeehouse excited her no end.

  “Well, I shall get all the information and help Mrs Forsdyke to make a proper plan. We shall need to come up with a list of suitable ladies to invite.”

  “And gentlemen, if they care to,” Adeline said, keen that they should involve as many people as possible.

  “Indeed, my dear. The more, the merrier, as I believe the saying goes.”

  “Well, here they come.” Imogen had already risen to her feet and was now straightening her ivory gown in readiness.

  “And do try to enjoy a little something of the afternoon, my dear. After all, I see no sign of the Duke yet, and if you are already fully engaged, I can hardly think that he would seek to interrupt things, as bluff and as arrogant as he is.”

  “We can but hope,” Imogen said and then smiled broadly in the direction of Lady Rossington and Mrs Forsdyke.

  “Ladies.” She smiled brightly. “Shall we begin our little quest before the boat race begins?”

  Chapter 19

  “You were awfully attentive to Miss Ravenswood at Richmond yesterday, Brother,” Prudence began almost as soon as Heath joined her in the library of his Belgravia mansion.

  It had been some time since the library in either his town or country home had been a place where brother and sister met to avoid the company of their mother. In the last weeks, Prudence had taken to sitting in the library in the mornings after breakfast, and Heath felt that she was keen for him to find her in there now and again. The gap between them was closing, he felt sure of it; at least, he hoped most dearly for it.

  “I did not think I was particularly so,” Heath said in a nonchalant manner that sounded ridiculous even to him.

  “Heath!” Prudence laughed openly at him.

  He ought to have been annoyed, but her unguarded laughter reminded him so much of when she was younger and still loved him unconditionally, and he found himself enjoying the teasing.

  “Well, hopefully, the self-obsessed Miss Ravenswood had not noticed it at all.” He laughed.

  “Why would you behave so if you did not want the lady to be impressed by your sudden show of attention?” Prudence put down her needlework and stared at him. “Heath, really, what is it that you hoped to achieve?”

  “I do not think I hoped to achieve a particular result, Prudence.” Heath knew he spoke a little defensively.

  “So, you did not wish to make your intentions towards Miss Ravenswood very clear?”

  “My intentions?” Heath could hear a little panic in his voice.

  How could he not have thought of the whole thing before? Why had he assumed that it would only be Lady Pennington who would notice his close attentions? Of course, the object of those very affections, however falsely given, would have noticed the changes. After all, he had known himself to be quite indifferent to her on all other occasions. Despite her obvious beauty, he had never felt any real draw to Miss Ravenswood.

  “Heath, your sudden interest in the lady was very clear indeed. And not only to Miss Ravenswood, but to her father also. And, worse still, to our own dear mother.” Prudence looked at him searchingly.

  “Oh dear.” Heath blew out a great breath.

  “Heath, I know you have no feelings for Miss Ravenswood. And I know precisely why you made such a display of paying her great attention,” Prudence spoke quietly, her tone entirely confidential in its nature. When Heath did not respond, his sister went on, “It was to make some point or other to Lady Imogen, was it not?”

  “Not entirely,” Heath said, playing for time.

  “Heath?”

  “Well yes, that was my intention.”

  “But why? Does it have something to do with the Duke of Dalton?”
<
br />   “In part, yes. But largely because Lady Pennington and I argued roughly some days before the boat race at Richmond. It was at Lord Castleford’s, actually.”

  “Good heavens, but what did you argue about?” Prudence was intent.

  “About the Duke of Dalton. I am afraid I had insulted the lady most roundly.” Heath felt the creeping sensation of shame he had been feeling whenever he thought of the accusations he had made.

  And yet, he still did not know if he had the thing wrong; after all, Lady Pennington had not yet seemed to make any bid to free herself from the attentions of the Duke. Still, he knew he had spoken to her in a most shameful manner, even given the occasional animosity of their acquaintanceship prior to that moment.