An Escapade and an Engagement

by Annie Burrows

  She smiled up at him enigmatically, hoping he would take the look as acquiescence. For she had no intention of getting into a tête-à-tête with him.

  ‘I shall get a message to your maid. My God,’ he said, closing his eyes briefly and shuddering. ‘To think I once said I would never sink to the level of smuggling notes to you via your maid. And now you have got me saying I shall do exactly that. The minute you set foot in my house, you have…’ He opened his eyes and stared down at her. ‘You are just like one of Congreve’s rockets. So small and innocuous-looking, but if a man takes his eyes off you there is no telling what direction you will veer, or where the next explosion will go off.’

  Since she’d spent the entire journey bewailing her lack of control over her temper, she could hardly argue with that assessment. So why did it hurt so much to hear Lord Ledbury say it out loud?

  ‘One day you will apologise for speaking to me like that,’ she said vehemently. And, raising her chin, she stalked past him and made straight for the sofa on which Lady Penrose was sitting.

  She sank onto the cushions with more necessity than grace. And it took her some time to stop trembling. The confrontation with Lord Ledbury had taken more out of her than she’d expected.

  If she weren’t so well-trained she would fling herself back amongst the cushions, cover her face with her hands, and wail with misery. For there were still five days of this to get through.

  Instead, she consoled herself by observing that the other young ladies already down, Miss Twining and Miss Beresford, were also sitting beside their own chaperones, looking just as edgy as she felt.

  The gentlemen of the party were all standing by a window which, to judge from the snatches of conversation she could overhear, overlooked the stables. Amongst them was a tall, bulky, elderly gentleman who was telling them about the various rides to be had in the vicinity. She assumed he must be Lord Ledbury’s grandfather, Lord Lavenham.

  Lord Ledbury was welcoming a latecomer to the room when she eventually gave herself permission to look his way again. Lady Susan Pettiffer was smiling up at him. And he was smiling right back, as though he didn’t mind her flirting with him. He wasn’t telling her she was like an unexploded bomb he dared not take his eyes off, or castigating her for polluting his orderly house with her unruly presence. Her fingers curled into claws. I shan’t let you have him, she vowed under her breath.

  And began to feel much better. All the people who’d come here were playing their own game. And hers was no worse than anyone else’s. That cat Lady Susan did not love Lord Ledbury in the least. She just wanted to be a countess.

  At least she was not plotting anything for selfish reasons. She resolutely ignored the little voice that whispered how she always said it was for a good cause when she was about to embark on some course of action she knew was questionable. It had been her temper that had led her into this, not duplicity! She’d gone and committed herself to this house party, and when she’d known there was no way out of it she’d wished she could find some way to prevent him from becoming a sacrifice on the altar of family duty. She couldn’t have borne to watch him pledge himself to anyone but the woman she knew he loved. Knowing she’d secured his happiness was the only thing that would console her for knowing she did not even make the running. The one comfort she would take with her into the future she saw unfolding before her. The future where she dwindled to an old maid, living the life of an eccentric recluse, since nobody would ever want to marry Chilblain Jayne.

  * * *

  She managed to eat a respectable amount at dinner, considering the tension that had her strung tight as a bow. Milly helped by behaving impeccably. She conversed in turn with each of her dining partners, making Lady Jayne want to nudge Lord Ledbury, and say, See?

  Only he was not seated near enough for her to do any such thing. And whenever she looked his way he studiously ignored her. Though from the way he chewed his food and threw his wine into his mouth he was barely keeping a lid on his own temper.

  It was only after dinner, when all the ladies withdrew, that Lady Jayne perceived Milly was not entirely at ease at all. It was when she came straight to her side, clutching her fan, white-knuckled, that she appreciated just how much of an ordeal this must be for her. She had warned Milly that after dinner the ladies would all be expected to perform for the gentlemen. And Milly had confessed that she had never learned to play a musical instrument.

  It had taken some planning and hours of practise to surmount this obstacle. Fortunately Milly had a good strong singing voice. After putting their heads together, they’d come up with several ballads with which they were both familiar. Lady Jayne would play the music as she sang, with Milly accompanying her and, with the help of subtle prompts, turning the pages so that it looked as though she knew how to read music. They had only gone through the pieces a couple of times before Milly began to improvise a very pleasing harmony to the melody Lady Jayne was to be singing. To her delight, although Milly lacked formal training, she had certainly heard far worse from girls who’d had the benefit of years of expensive tuition.

  The only thing that might let them down was Milly’s nerves.

  Lady Jayne need not have worried. After a slightly wobbly start, which only served to make Milly look appropriately bashful, their performance went without a hitch. And, judging from Miss Beresford’s look of acute annoyance when the gentlemen of the party applauded their duet with what she thought sounded like genuine appreciation, they really had done themselves proud.

  Lord Ledbury alone did not applaud. He kept his arms folded, glowering at them both tight-lipped. He’d clearly realized that to perform so well together they must have put in hours of practise. Which meant they had both flouted his orders not to meet each other. She returned to her seat in a subdued frame of mind. Yet another crime for him to lay at her door. Although, from what Milly had told her, Milly herself had never been all that biddable to start with. She thought nothing of going behind Lord Ledbury’s back, or acting on her own initiative, as she phrased it, when she disagreed with him.

  But justifying her actions by mentally accusing Milly of being as intractable as she was did not make Lady Jayne feel any less uncomfortable.

  Nor did the look of malicious triumph Lady Susan shot her. Nobody could possibly guess what had provoked Lord Ledbury’s simmering fury, but it was enough to encourage her pretensions. Because he had applauded everyone else’s performance.

  The evening only grew more uncomfortable after that. The other prospective brides were trying too hard to impress Lord Ledbury. And since he was in a foul mood, due to her bringing Milly along, their efforts to please him were only making them look increasingly desperate.

  Eventually the arrival of the tea tray heralded the imminent cessation of hostilities. She went to fetch a cup of tea for Lady Penrose, since she had become deeply engrossed in conversation with Miss Twining’s duenna. She was not all that surprised when, the moment she reached the table where Mrs Hargreaves presided over the teacups, Lord Ledbury materialised at her side.

  Before he had the chance to lay into her, she smiled up at him brightly and said, ‘Yes, thank you, I am having a lovely time. Such congenial company.’

  ‘Sarcasm does not become you.’

  ‘I am not being sarcastic. Well, not wholly. I like the look of your grandfather.’ She regarded the rotund old gentleman wistfully. He was laughing heartily at something Lady Susan had said. She did not think she had ever seen her own grandfather laugh
like that. Least of all at any sally a girl as young as that could make. He would be more likely to treat her to one of his withering stares and remove himself to the card room. ‘He looks so jolly.’

  ‘He looks,’ Lord Ledbury retorted with disgust, ‘like a man who is getting his own way. You should have seen the way he reacted when I asked if I might hold this house party and have a few of my friends to spend a few days here. He has very generously offered to run his eye over every female I have considered as a potential bride and give me the benefit of his advice. As if I was not perfectly capable of choosing my own wife!’

  Some of Lady Jayne’s tension dissolved at the realisation that not all of his anger stemmed from something she had done. In fact, she found it very encouraging that he was confiding in her like this. It proved that he found it as easy to talk to her as she did to him. Something inside her settled, like a knot coming unravelled. Even though they had quarrelled, he still considered her a friend.

  But she was not going to offer him her sympathy. Apart from firmly believing he was going about finding a wife in completely the wrong way, the last thing he would want was to think she pitied him.

  ‘Well, I must say,’ she said quite frankly, ‘judging from the people you have invited, I tend to agree that you are in dire need of somebody’s advice.’

  ‘What do you mean? I have very good reasons for inviting each and every one of my guests.’

  Not that he had any intention of explaining those reasons to her now, with so many of them within earshot. Possibly not ever.

  For it was a bit galling to have to admit that Lady Susan and Lucy Beresford were the only two women he’d met so far this Season that he could actually remember anything about when they weren’t in the room. Lady Susan was, in fact, exactly the sort of woman he’d had in mind before he’d met Lady Jayne. She was bright, witty, capable and well-connected. She was sure to leave her mark on the world.

  And as for Lucy—well, as Berry’s sister he couldn’t very well not remember her. He’d decided he might as well invite her down here, to see if he could learn to find something about her to appeal to him as a man.

  Which had led him to invite Miss Twining, too. For he had noticed that Berry was developing quite a tendre for the girl. Unfortunately she was so bashful it was well nigh impossible to tell whether she returned his regard. Only once or twice had he noticed her casting Berry glances that indicated his feelings might be reciprocated, if only he would pluck up the courage to make the first move. So Lord Ledbury had decided to give them a helping hand. A few days down here should resolve matters between them. Because between them he and his grandfather had organized a whole series of activities conducive to courtship.

  That had made quite a small party, so he’d cast his net a bit wider and thought of Lord Halstead, who had apparently gone to Milly’s assistance during the Lambourne masquerade. When he’d gone round to give Milly a piece of his mind for exposing Lady Jayne to danger by encouraging her to see Kendell behind his back, she’d angrily retorted that Lady Jayne had not been the only one who’d needed help that night. ‘If it had not been for Lord Halstead I don’t know how I would have got home safe. Not in that outfit.’

  Not that he’d admitted to the fellow that was why he’d been invited. It was damned risky, having him here as well as Milly. He rubbed his hand over the crown of his head. Hopefully he hadn’t seen Milly anywhere near Lady Jayne that night and would continue to think he’d been invited to make up the numbers. He certainly hadn’t questioned the reason for his invitation at the time. Just jumped at the chance to spend a few days in the countryside on a repairing lease.

  ‘More to the point,’ he said to Lady Jayne, having shot a significant look in Milly’s direction, ‘I had very good reasons for not inviting others.’

  She pursed her lips. She was doing it to express exasperation with him, no doubt, but to his way of thinking it looked just as though she was puckering up for a kiss.

  ‘They are not good reasons,’ she said mutinously. ‘They are absolutely stupid reasons.’

  He stopped wanting to kiss her. No, what he wanted to do now was grab her by the shoulders and shake her. Had she no idea what damage could be done to her reputation if it once got about that she had introduced his mistress into Society? Not that Milly was his mistress, but that was what everyone would think if they discovered his connection to her.

  And he’d warned her that it was dangerous…. But she’d said she didn’t care. That was the thing about Lady Jayne. She was loyal to a fault. He could not fathom why she’d brought Milly here, and the cryptic remarks she’d made earlier about making him grateful had made no sense at first. But he was beginning to wonder if she didn’t consider herself on some sort of crusade.

  ‘We have got to have a serious talk,’ he said grimly. ‘Somewhere nobody else can overhear us, so that you can explain yourself. At the side of the house there is a shrubbery. You can get out to it by going out of the library doors and down the steps at the end of the terrace. Meet me there tomorrow, before breakfast.’

  He turned and stalked off, having delivered his orders as though he expected her to snap to attention, salute and say, Yes, Sir!

  Well, if he thought he could order her about like that, he had another think coming! Besides, she had no intention of getting into a potentially compromising position with him. The whole point of coming down here was to promote Milly’s case with his family. If only she could have a few days’ grace, to prove how well she could fit in, then he could announce that his search for a bride was over. Once they’d got to know her for the sunny, charming person she was, surely they would have no objections to him making her his countess? Why, in comparison with the other girls he’d brought down here Milly was like a rose among thorns.

  Yes, within a few days he could introduce Milly to the world as the woman he loved, and they would all live happily ever after.

  Well, Lord Ledbury and Milly would, anyway. She shivered as she had another vision of the bleak future awaiting her, and added an extra spoonful of sugar to her cup of tea. As she walked across the room to join Lady Penrose she consoled herself with the reflection that her chaperone lived alone, unmarried and was perfectly content.

  She would be, too.

  So long as she knew that Lord Ledbury was happy.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, when she went down to breakfast, she only had to glance at Lord Ledbury, who was savagely sawing away at a slice of sirloin, to see that he was furious with her for not keeping their assignation in the shrubbery. She lifted her chin as a footman held out a chair for her and took her place at the table. He would thank her one day. She just had to have the determination to ride out his annoyance and stick to her guns.

  Why did one talk about sticking to guns? She had often wondered. It sounded like such an absurd thing to do. Guns recoiled after being fired, and if one stuck to them surely one would be flung about most uncomfortably? She would ask him to explain it to her one day. Since he had been in the army for such a long time he was bound to know what the expression really meant.

  She lifted her head to look at him, anticipating the conversation, and was shocked by the chill with which he met her gaze.

  Jolted by the searing pain that shot through her on receipt of that look, she lowered her eyes to her place setting. What if he never forgave her for meddling in his search for the perfect bride? He was the one person, apart from Milly, with whom she had ever been a
ble to converse openly.

  She spooned some jam disconsolately onto the side of her plate, though her appetite had vanished completely. She had meant well, but perhaps it would have been better not to have meddled in his love life?

  Better for her. Yes, it would have been easier for her to just keep out of it. That would have been the sensible thing to do, and the course she had been tempted to take. But could she have lived with herself if she had stood back and let Lord Ledbury marry the wrong woman? No.

  She firmed her mouth, picked up her knife and, with great deliberation, spread the jam onto a warm roll. Lord Ledbury deserved to find some happiness. And she would do whatever she could to help him achieve it.

  ‘It looks as though the weather today is going to be fair and warm,’ Lord Lavenham suddenly announced in a voice loud enough to carry above the muted conversations going on around the crowded breakfast table.

  She would never have believed every single one of the girls invited would be such early risers. Clearly none of them had any intention of letting any of the others gain so much as five minutes’ advantage in their pursuit of Lord Ledbury.

  ‘I should be pleased to give as many of you as would care for it a tour about the estate. We shall convene in about an hour, in the stable block—if that gives you ladies enough time to get ready,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘I shall be able to match you all up with suitable mounts.’

  The gentlemen, she assumed, would have brought their own horses.

  ‘Now, I know that the ground will be a bit soft after all the recent rain, but I do not want you to worry about muddying your riding habits. For those of you who do not wish to ride this morning, I shall provide other transport.’