by Anne Herries
‘But one the heir to an earldom, the other to his uncle the Marquis of Northbrooke.’ Bellingham’s mouth twitched, for she had described the pair of young bucks to perfection.
‘Oh, that!’ Caroline made a face at him. ‘As if I cared for such things. I think a gentleman of your mode might possibly take an interest in poetry and reading, as well as sport, of course. Do not think I have anything against such pursuits, for my brother Nicolas is a rare goer at many things and I have enjoyed fishing for trout with him.’ Her face sparkled up at him as she recalled her childhood adventures with pleasure.
‘Have you indeed?’ George was intrigued—she was not quite in the ordinary way. He recalled his wager with Freddie Rathbone and smiled inwardly. ‘You must tell me more…’ He was disappointed as the music ended. ‘Oh…it has seemed but a minute…’
‘Do you not think time always flies when one is enjoying oneself and drags when one is forced to do something utterly tedious?’
George disguised his laughter as a cough. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to have supper with him, but as soon as they left the floor, she was surrounded by four splendid young bucks dressed in the height of fashion, and all with the same question in mind.
‘Miss Holbrook, may I take you in?’
‘Ignore Brent, Miss Holbrook. I am sure you promised the privilege to me.’
‘Oh, Asbury, she damned well said nothing of the kind—she is promised to me,’ another gentleman claimed entirely falsely.
‘No, no, gentlemen,’ Caroline said and laughed, her eyes dancing with mischief. ‘I have promised no one, but I shall yield to the gentleman who can quote Richard Lovelace to me—accurately, mind.’ She looked at them expectantly.
There was stunned silence for a moment, their faces falling as they struggled to bring a word to mind; though most had subscribed to books of more modern authors, they were unable to remember the lines of the seventeenth-century poet.
‘Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
I’ll have freedom in my love,
And so in my soul am free;
Angels alone, that soar above,
Enjoy such liberty.’
‘Oh, well done, sir!’ Caroline clapped and turned as the deep voice finished his quotation. ‘That was excellent…’ Finding herself having to look up at the newcomer, she discovered that he was the most devastatingly handsome man she had yet met. His hair was the colour of a raven’s wing, almost blue-black where the light from the chandeliers touched it, his eyes very dark, just now mocking her, his mouth strangely enticing as it curved in a smile that made her heart jerk and then race on at frightening speed.
‘Good evening, Miss Holbrook,’ Freddie Rathbone said and offered her his arm, a glint in his eyes as a murmur of protest came from the other gentlemen when she took it. ‘The honour is mine, I think. Better luck next time—George, gentlemen.’ He inclined his head to them, his mannera nice blend of mockery and arrogance, as if he had claimed the prize by right.
Caroline laid her hand on his arm. She was laughing inside, though she did her best not to show it. ‘I do not believe we have been introduced, sir?’
‘Sir Frederick Rathbone at your service,’ he said and smiled at her. ‘I came late and was reliably informed that your card was full—young Asbury supplied the details. You must be aware that you have made a hit with that gentleman, and a few others, I dare say.’
‘They have been amazingly kind,’ Caroline said, a faint blush in her cheeks. She did not often blush, but there was something about this man’s gaze that made her a little uncomfortable. He seemed to demand her thoughts, and she was not sure that she wished to share them with him. There was something about him that seemed to challenge her. To accept that challenge might prove dangerous.
‘Come, now, no false modesty,’ Freddie said, his eyes seeming to dare her to respond in a way that was not at all fitting. ‘You must know that you are a sensation. I might almost say you are the belle of the evening, perhaps of the Season, though it is early days yet, I think.’
‘This is my first ball,’ Caroline said, her enthusiasm bubbling over. ‘I have been lucky enough not to sit down for one dance as yet, but I do not think I am the only lady to have been popular this evening.’
‘True enough, but people are talking about you. Everyone wishes to know where you came from—perhaps you were wafted here from some distant paradise? You are a siren come up from the depths of the sea to weave your spell over us poor mortals…’
‘You mock me, sir,’ Caroline reproved. She was a little uneasy—there was something about him, a glint in his eyes that told her he might be dangerous if she were to like him too much. And yet despite that she was drawn to him, much like a moth to an open flame. She tilted her head, deliberately challenging him. ‘If we are to speak of looks, I dare say yours have won you more than your fair share of attention from the ladies? And if you should be wealthy, of which I have no idea, I am sure you are much sought after—unless you are already married, of course?’
‘Oh, rich as Croesus,’ Freddie said and grinned at her. Her bold manner was immediately attractive to a man of his humour, intriguing him. He wondered how she would respond to his teasing. ‘And not married—a fact that some find irresponsible, for it must be the first object of a gentleman to marry, must it not?’
‘Must it?’ Caroline said, wrinkling her brow. He was clearly mocking her. She threw him a daring look, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. ‘I do not see it. Much better to remain unwed unless it is for the further happiness of both partners—do you not think so? It would be tedious to marry just for the sake of it, I imagine.’
‘Absolutely,’ Freddie said, much amused. He had not met such frankness in a young lady of her class before and found it refreshing. ‘Unfortunately, the match-making mamas of too many young ladies do not see it from your point of view. Now, what shall we have of this fine supper provided for us, Miss Holbrook? Please do not say you are not hungry. Surely you must fancy some of that delicious ham—or the chicken? Perhaps with a few green peas?’
‘I would prefer one of those savoury pastries, and a syllabub,’ Caroline said. ‘But you must certainly have some of that beef, sir. It is rare and I know gentlemen like their beef that way—at least Nicolas does and so did my papa, although my other brother, Tom, likes the first slice from the cut.’
‘Your father is dead, Miss Holbrook?’
‘These two years past,’ Caroline said and sighed. ‘I miss him sorely, sir, but, truthfully, I miss my brother more. Tom has taken on the estate, of course, but Nicolas has gone to become a soldier. I just wish that I might have gone with him. I think it must be a fine thing to wear a handsome uniform and march to the sound of the drums.’
‘Do you, indeed?’ Freddie hid his smile at her naivety. ‘I have had my share of it, Miss Holbrook. I can assure you that it is not all drums and flying colours.’
‘Were you with Wellington when Napoleon was defeated?’
‘No, I had resigned my commission, but I was with him at Salamanca.’
‘Truly? Did you resign because you were wounded?’
‘I was wounded several times, but I resigned because my father died and I had commitments at home.’
‘Ah, yes, you are the elder son, I assume. I think poor Tom wishes that he were Nicolas at times. He has all the burden of the estate, while Nicolas may do much as he pleases.’
‘Within reason, I dare say, but he will have to make his fortune—or marry into one. I dare say he has not much fortune of his own?’
‘Oh, no,’ Caroline said candidly, unaware that she was being quizzed for information. ‘None of us has. Poor Papa was not a good manager, you see.’
‘Ah…’ Having gained all the information that Asbury had not been able to give him earlier, Freddie was satisfied. The girl clearly needed to marry well, which in her case sho
uld not be difficult, even without a fortune. She was undoubtedly beautiful and her easy manner had made her a favourite with the gentlemen. He found her amusing company himself, but could not help wondering if there were some artifice behind her easy manner. It would be interesting to discover more about her. ‘Now, we must eat, Miss Holbrook. Please seat yourself, and I shall arrange for our supper.’
Caroline saw that a table by the window was still free, and she went to sit there. Before Sir Frederick could bring her her supper, Mr Bellingham came and sat down, supplying a third chair for himself.
‘Freddie looking after you?’ he asked. ‘Decent chap, but rather stole my thunder. I was recalling what I know of Lovelace when he jumped in. I dare say he won’t mind my joining you. We are close friends, you see.’
‘I set the question, thinking that you might answer it,’ Caroline said truthfully. ‘I particularly like his letter to Lucasta—do you know it?’
‘“Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind…”’ George quoted, raising an eyebrow. ‘Is that the one?’
‘Oh, yes, written to Lucasta when he was about to go to war. I find that period so romantic, do you not agree? I have a book at home, which tells the story of a lady defending her home in her husband’s absence. It was a brave age, less polite than today, I imagine.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ George Bellingham agreed and smiled.
‘George,’ a voice said from behind him. ‘What is this, my dear fellow—stealing a march on me?’ Freddie waved the servant forwards who had brought various plates of the delicious food on offer. The servant deposited them and bowed, leaving the company to serve themselves. ‘Please do join us…feel free to eat whatever you wish, but not the syllabub.’
‘Very well, I shall,’ George said, impervious to the sarcasm in his friend’s voice. ‘Miss Holbrook and I were discussing Lovelace—and the Civil War, a brave age.’
‘Really?’ Freddie said drily. ‘With the whole country in arms and most of the aristocracy ruined for years?’
‘Oh, you have no soul,’ Caroline said, throwing him a challenging look. Her eyes were bright with mischief, making both men aware of her wayward spirit. ‘The men were so gallant, and the ladies very different from the ladies of today, would you not say?’
‘In what way?’ Freddie asked, a gleam in his eye as he realised that his friend had been quoting her views, not his own. It seemed that this young lady was not afraid to voice her opinions.
‘Oh, we are hedged about with convention,’ Caroline said. ‘I think it was easier to speak one’s mind then than now.’
‘Indeed?’ Freddie was hard put to it not to answer in kind, for she was speaking quite freely. ‘What would you like to say that you dare not, Miss Holbrook? Please do not hold back, for you are amongst friends. Neither George nor I will censure you.’
‘Oh…’ She looked into his eyes and saw the mockery. ‘Have I been speaking too freely? My aunt forbade it, but I have been used to speaking as I find with my brothers. Forgive me.’ A faint blush touched her cheeks.
‘No, indeed, you have not. I find your frankness refreshing,’ George assured her hastily. ‘Do not let anyone tell you that you should be otherwise, Miss Holbrook.’
‘Yes, well, perhaps I should not be quite so open,’ she said, belatedly realising that her aunt might be right in some instances. ‘Do you go to Almack’s this week, sir? I believe I am to be given vouchers.’
‘Then I shall certainly be there,’ George said and shot a look of triumph at his friend. ‘But I believe Freddie has other engagements?’
‘Yes, I fear I have,’ Freddie said and gave his friend a look that spoke volumes. The challenge was fairly joined and both men were enjoying themselves. ‘But I shall be at Lady Broughton’s rout—do you attend?’
‘Yes, I believe so,’ Caroline said. ‘Indeed, we have so many cards that I am not sure how we shall manage to attend a half of the affairs we have been invited to.’
‘You will no doubt simply make an appearance at some and then go on as many of us do,’ Freddie said. ‘But I shall engage to dance with you at least twice at the rout, Miss Holbrook. Please mark your card for me as you will.’
‘Thank you, sir…’ She looked at Mr Bellingham, for she sensed a friendly rivalry between the two and was amused by it. ‘And for you, sir?’
‘I believe two would be suitable,’ he said, ‘and I should like to take you driving in the park—perhaps tomorrow afternoon, if you have no prior engagements?’
‘I know we are engaged for the evening, but I think there is nothing as yet for the afternoon. I shall be delighted to drive out with you, sir.’
‘I shall look forward to it,’ George assured her and glanced at Freddie. Their habitual rivalry was good-natured, but often quite fierce, and their friendship was all the stronger for the occasional clash of temperament.
Freddie was eating his supper. He made no comment, apparently leaving the field for the moment, though George did not doubt that he would re-enter when he chose.
Caroline looked up and saw her aunt bearing down on them. ‘Gentlemen, I think my aunt may need me.’
The gentlemen got to their feet as Lady Taunton descended on them, but she smiled and indicated that they should sit. ‘Please continue with your supper, gentlemen. I came only to see if my niece wanted to accompany me to the rest room?’
‘Thank you, Aunt.’ Caroline rose obediently, for she knew when she was being told to do something, however charmingly it was put. ‘Excuse me, Mr Bellingham—Sir Frederick. I shall hope to see you at the rout we spoke of.’
She followed Lady Taunton from the room and up the stairs to the bedrooms that had been set aside for the comfort of the ladies, waiting for the tirade to begin. However, when they were alone, her aunt smiled at her.
‘You have done well, Caroline. Mr Bellingham is a wealthy gentleman, though some think him a confirmed bachelor—but of course Sir Frederick is one of the catches of the Season. He has been for years, of course, but so far has shown no inclination for matrimony. If you were to receive an offer from either of those gentlemen it would be highly satisfactory, though Sir Frederick is the better catch of the two. He is his uncle’s heir, you know—and will be the Marquis of Southmoor one day.’
‘I am sure that they were just being gallant,’ Caroline replied. ‘They wanted to pass the time pleasantly.’
‘I am not quite so certain,’ her aunt replied, looking thoughtful. ‘Rathbone’s godmother is a friend of mine. I do not think you have met her—Lady Stroud?’ Caroline shook her head. ‘No, I thought not. She told me that he has been attending more of these affairs recently, something he hardly ever does. I imagine that must mean he has set his mind to taking a bride. You have clearly caught his eye. It might be to your advantage to make a push, Caroline.’
‘We share an interest in certain poets,’ Caroline told her, ‘but I dare say that is all we have in common. Besides, there were many others who asked me to dance, and to take supper, Aunt.’ Her aunt’s untimely interference was irritating, for she had only just met the gentlemen in question.
‘Yes, of course. You must not show neglect in your manner to any gentlemen who take an interest in you, my dear—but bear it in mind that Rathbone is a good catch.’
Caroline did not answer. Her aunt’s words had the opposite effect of the one she had surely hoped for. If anything were calculated to set Caroline against someone, it was being pushed in his direction.
* * *
Freddie looked across the card table and sighed inwardly. He had been holding the winning hand for the past few minutes, but was reluctant to declare it. He would have preferred not to play Farringdon, but had been unable to refuse the challenge, having won from him only a few nights previously. He was aware that the fool was playing out of his depth, and could probably not afford to pay a half of the notes he had so carelessly thrown on the table. He toyed with the idea of throwing his hand, but that was against all the rules of play. Farringdon must learn not to ga
mble beyond his means.
He took a card from the pack; it was the one card that could improve his hand, which was now virtually unbeatable. He discarded and then laid his cards on the table. A groan broke from two of the other players; they complained of his incredible luck, but did so with a smile and a careless shrug, for both were well able to pay what was owed. Freddie looked at Farringdon’s white face as he sat staring at the cards in disbelief.
The other gentlemen got up and left the table almost immediately, in search of wine or food, but Farringdon sat on, almost as though he were frozen to the spot.
‘It will take me some time to raise the cash,’ he said in a flat voice, the seriousness of his situation showing only by a slight nerve flicking at his right temple.
‘Yes, of course,’ Freddie said, gathering up the various gold coins and notes that had been tossed on to the table. ‘Unless you would wish to toss for double or quits?’
‘No, no, I think not,’ Farringdon said with an attempt to seem casual. ‘It is a temporary thing, Rathbone. I should be able to settle in a few weeks.’
‘Yes, of course. There is no hurry, none whatsoever. You may take as much time as you please, sir. Will you drink a nightcap with me? It is my intention to walk home.’
‘Thank you, no,’ Farringdon said and got up. He left the table and walked from the gaming club without looking from left to right, his face set in a frozen expression that gave no indication of his state of mind.
‘Have you won again?’ George Bellingham wandered over to Freddie as he sat on for a moment in contemplation. ‘Farringdon looked desperate. I heard a rumour that unless he finds some way to come about he may be forced to sell his estate.’
‘The damned fool should have cut his losses earlier,’ Freddie said with a frown of displeasure. ‘I have no desire to ruin any man, George, and if he comes to me with the truth, I shall return his notes to him. However, he must retire from the tables. He should take a bolt to the country and stay there until he has the funds in his pocket. The rule is that if you can’t pay do not play.’