by Mary Balogh
He had better stop woolgathering, he decided, and take himself off to White’s to read the morning papers and find some congenial companionship to fill in the rest of the morning hours. He had already looked through the post and decided which invitations to accept and which to reject. He had set aside the fortnightly report from Cedarhurst to read later.
Before he could rise from the table, however, and follow his sister and Miss Daniels from the room, his butler arrived on the scene, a card on a silver platter in his hand and a look of open disapproval on his face.
“The gentleman hopes to see you immediately, my lord,” he said as Jasper took the card from the tray. “Or sooner. His exact words, m’lord.”
Jasper was given no chance to read who it was who had such an urgent need to see him. The visitor did not wait in the hall to be properly admitted. He strode into the breakfast parlor almost on the butler’s heels.
Jasper raised one eloquent eyebrow.
“Clarrie!” he said with heavy irony. He did not get to his feet. “This is an unexpected pleasure. Come in and make yourself at home. No need to stand upon ceremony here.”
Clarence Forester-Sir Clarence since the demise of his father eighteen months or so ago-hated almost more than anything else in the world to be called Clarrie. Hence Jasper had never called him anything else all their lives. He was Aunt Prunella’s beloved only son, Charlotte’s cousin, and a weasel of the first order. Jasper noted his expanding girth and thinning fair hair and florid complexion. It had been a while since he had seen the man. He was not maturing well though he could not be a day older than twenty-five.
“My dear mama and I arrived in town yesterday,” Clarence explained, eyeing an empty chair as though he thought it might collapse beneath him if he sat on it and then lowering himself onto another. “We came with all the speed we could muster as soon as we heard.”
“All the way from Kent?” Jasper asked. “Pour Sir Clarrie some coffee, if you will be so good, Horton. He looks in dire need of sustenance. Sprang your horses, did you, old boy? That was rash of you. Sprung horses have a tendency to become lame horses if they do not have very skilled hands at the ribbons.”
“Sir Clarence, that is,” Clarence said pointedly in the direction of Horton. “And bring me some porter instead.”
Jasper nodded when Horton looked his way.
“We have heard,” Clarence said, leaning back while his glass of porter was being set down in front of him, “though I am sure you will correct me if we heard wrongly as we surely must have done, Jasper. We have heard that you have brought Cousin Charlotte to London.”
Jasper looked politely at him.
“All of which goes to prove,” he said agreeably, “that your ears are in fine working order, Clarrie. Were you worried about them?”
“She is here, then?” Clarence asked.
“Body and soul,” Jasper agreed. “Mind too, I daresay. Charlotte is nobody’s genius, but Miss Daniels has educated her as well as she is able, and she is an admirable woman. They have even visited a few token galleries and museums together since coming here. I have been vastly impressed.”
Clarence drew an audible breath and swelled alarmingly. There was a thin mustache of porter on his upper lip. It made him look slightly rakish.
“It is true, then,” he said. “I hoped desperately that it was not. So did Mama. She said so all the way here in the carriage. ‘I do hope, Clarence,’ she said a dozen times if she said it at all, ‘that this is a wild-goose chase we are on, unlikely as it seems when Jasper is involved.’ I have been forced to believe a number of painful and wicked things about you in the past number of years, Jasper, try as I have to be charitable toward a man who is my uncle’s stepson. I know he was as fond of you as if you had been his own flesh and blood even if you did try his patience almost every day of your life. But this beats all. This puts you beyond the pale. This merits a visit to my great-uncle Wrayburn, much as I hesitate to disturb the peace of the old gentleman. Mama is prostrate with distress.”
“That must be uncomfortable for her,” Jasper said, folding his napkin and setting it beside his plate. “Perhaps if you were to prop up her head with some pillows, Clarrie? Or her feet? Or both? Do you have enough pillows?”
Dash it all-Aunt Prunella in town. And Clarrie. Two for the price of one. Charlotte would be wishing she had stayed at Cedarhurst. Especially as they were after her blood. No, correction-it was his blood they were after.
“Your tone of levity does you no credit, Jasper,” Clarence told him. “It never did. Uncle, alas, trusted that you would grow up given time. I knew you never would.”
“It is always an enormous satisfaction, is it not,” Jasper said lazily, “to be proved right? Especially when it is something nasty that one has predicted. If it is nasty to accuse me of being an eternal boy, that is. Perhaps you meant it as a compliment? As a suggestion that I have discovered the fountain of youth, perhaps? I shall choose to take your words as a compliment, old boy, and thank you from the bottom of my heart. You had better refill Sir Clarrie’s glass, Horton. It is dry.”
“Sir Clarence,” Clarence said through his teeth. “You must know, Jasper, that it is quite shockingly unseemly to bring a young girl to town when she has not yet made her come-out. It is enough to give any high-stickler heart palpitations and a fit of the vapors, and Mama is the highest of sticklers.”
“You had better not let Charlotte hear you refer to her as a girl, Clarrie,” Jasper said kindly, “especially a young girl. She considers herself a young lady now-with good reason, I might add. But you and your mama might decide with some relief that you have indeed been dashing after a wild goose. When you ask around, as you surely will, you will discover that Charlotte has not been seen at any ton events or done anything else that is remotely inappropriate to her age and circumstances. I may know no better, old chap-you are quite right about that-but Miss Daniels certainly does. I would warn you not to try taking her to task for any imagined improprieties. She is to be a clergyman’s bride before Christmas, and the Reverend Bellow may take it into his head to excommunicate you or some such unfortunate thing if you offend her. It is true that he is the most amiable, mild-mannered of gentlemen, but there is no saying what effect an insult to his beloved might have upon him. I would not wish to put the matter to the test myself.”
Clarence dashed the back of his hand over his mouth, obliterating the rakish mustache.
“You make a joke of everything, Jasper,” he said. “Charlotte is of impeccable lineage, and she is a considerable heiress. It is quite imperative that she not be seen in public until after she has made her curtsy to the queen next year. You have quite recklessly flouted the terms of Uncle’s will. I am here to see that you do not continue to do so. Great-Uncle Wrayburn will see to it also once I have had a word with him.”
“You will give him my regards when you call?” Jasper said pleasantly.
Throughout the visit he had been wondering why Charlotte’s aunt and cousin had suddenly exerted themselves on her behalf when they had not done so anytime during the past ten years since the death of her father or even the last five since the death of her mother. The greatest interest Lady Forester had ever shown in her niece was a lengthy letter twice a year-at Christmas and on her birthday-to admonish her to be good and virtuous and to listen to her governess more than to anyone else in her life. Jasper, the implication had always been, was the anyone else in her life.
He thought he understood now, though. Clarence had mentioned that one telling detail about Charlotte’s being a considerable heiress. And come to think of it, she had read out one passage of her aunt’s letter last Christmas-the paragraph in which Lady Forester had mentioned hearing from dear Rachel and had proceeded to assure Charlotte that if her sister would not bring her out after her eighteenth birthday, she most certainly would. Indeed, it was something she had always intended, something Charlotte’s dear papa had always intended if her mama should happen to be deceased when the time ca
me. In the same paragraph she had mentioned that dear Clarence was eagerly looking forward to becoming reacquainted with his cousin and that he was now a fine figure of a young man and quite ready to settle down once he had met a lady worthy of him.
Charlotte had made Jasper promise that she would never be turned over to her aunt and cousin, whom she disliked almost as much as he did.
The trouble was that although Jasper was Baron Montford and always had been, his father having predeceased his birth by one month, and although he was owner of Cedarhurst Park, where his mother and her second husband had lived until both their deaths and where Charlotte had always lived, and although he was Charlotte’s half brother and closest male relative-despite all those facts in his favor, he was not in fact her sole guardian. His mother’s second husband had neither liked nor trusted him, and while he had bowed to his wife’s persuasions sufficiently to name Jasper in his will as one of Charlotte’s guardians until her fortune became her own either at her twenty-first birthday or on her wedding day, whichever came first, he had also insisted upon naming two other gentlemen as joint guardians-his own uncle, Seth Wrayburn, and his brother-in-law, Sir Charles Forester. Clarence had inherited one third of the joint guardianship on his father’s death.
All of which meant that any two of the guardians could outvote the third on any matter concerning Charlotte’s life and well-being.
Jasper had always taken comfort from the fact that Seth Wrayburn, an elderly, indolent hermit, had never once shown even an ounce of interest in either Charlotte or Clarence or indeed any of his family. Or in Jasper himself for that matter.
“Mama,” Clarence said now, “is quite prepared to sacrifice her time and energy and independence in order to give Charlotte the respectable home she needs and the proper preparations for her come-out that she suspects are being sorely neglected. It is something I daresay you are prepared to agree to, Jasper, since you must wish what is best for your half sister. I will forgo my visit to Great-Uncle Seth if you will agree to relinquish her into my care and Mama’s tomorrow. One does not wish for any dissension among her guardians, after all, and I daresay you will be glad to be free of the responsibility. What do you say?”
He attempted to look jocular, and merely looked ridiculous instead.
Jasper had the very nasty suspicion that the worthy lady Clarence was supposedly looking for was going to be Charlotte. She was his first cousin, it was true, and a union between them would be distasteful even if not illegal. She was also very rich-and Clarence’s father had liked to play deep at the tables but had lacked either skill or luck. What he had probably not lacked at his death was debts.
Jasper’s brow was creased in thought, and Clarence’s manner became almost sprightly.
“I can see no flaw in your argument, I must confess, Clarrie,” Jasper said. “Except that I do indeed wish what is best for Charlotte and quite fail to see how I might fulfill that wish by relinquishing her into your care and your mama’s. Forgive me if I am being dense. Perhaps Wrayburn will understand better. Perhaps you had better pay him that call after all, old chap. I do not doubt he will be delighted to see you. In the meanwhile I find myself unable to sit here exchanging pleasantries with you any longer, despite the fact that you are my almost-relative. Are you ever thankful for the small mercy inherent in that almost, Clarrie, as I am? I have to be busy this morning.”
“Boxing at Jackson’s or looking over horseflesh at Tattersall’s, I suppose,” Clarence said scornfully.
“Dear me,” Jasper said, getting to his feet, “nothing so strenuous, Clarrie. Spare me, old chap. I daresay we will see you and your mama within the next few days though I must warn you-with regret-that we plan to be from home on that particular day.”
“I did not name a day,” Clarence pointed out.
“Ah,” Jasper said, “did you not? We plan to be from home that day anyway. You found your own way in, old chap. Be so good as to find it again on the way out, will you? It is so very tedious to have to walk all the way to the front door merely to see a guest off the premises when it is so much easier to proceed immediately upstairs.”
He inclined his head courteously and preceded Clarence from the room. He went up the stairs without looking back.
The nonchalance of his movements was not quite matched by the grimness of his thoughts, though.
Seth Wrayburn was an unknown quantity. He always had been.
One could only hope that he would recognize a prize ass when he saw one-even if that ass was his great-nephew.
8
KATHERINE was in the drawing room with Margaret when the butler came up with a visitor’s card on a silver salver. They already had one visitor-Constantine had been with them for almost half an hour, having returned with Stephen from a long morning spent together at Tattersall’s. They were not expecting anyone else. Indeed, they had been about to go walking in the park when the men had arrived.
“It is Lord Montford,” Margaret said after lifting the card from the tray. She looked directly at Katherine and raised her eyebrows.
“Monty,” Stephen said gladly. “Oh, show him up by all means. He was at the ball last evening, Con. Did I tell you?”
“Was he?” Constantine said. “I suppose he spent all evening in the card room relieving a few of the other guests of their fortunes.”
“Not all evening,” Stephen said. “He actually danced once.”
Oh, please, Stephen, say no more.
Katherine wished fervently that she could obliterate that dance from both fact and memory. It had kept her awake half the night. She had been able to think of little else all day. Goodness, she had almost been goaded into agreeing to that ridiculous and horribly improper wager he had suggested. She could not believe she had almost agreed. With Lord Montford of all people.
But just imagine how it would be, Miss Huxtable, if we were both to win. We could have a grand wedding at St. George’s in Hanover Square with every member of the ton in attendance and then proceed to a lifetime of sleepless nights, making babies and passionate love, not necessarily in that order.
Oh!
And now, just as those words were popping into her mind for surely the dozenth time-at a conservative estimate-since they had been spoken, he was stepping into Stephen’s drawing room, looking handsome and immaculately elegant. He was escorting a young and exquisitely pretty lady.
Oh, how dared he come like this after last evening-and after three years ago. Except that he had declared last evening that he had a wager to win, and he could not do that without contriving meetings with her.
He bowed and the young lady curtsied deeply.
“Miss Huxtable,” he said, focusing his attention-and his charm-upon Margaret. “I have come to tell you how delighted I was to make your acquaintance last evening, even if I was not fortunate enough to secure a dance with you. And I have been presumptuous enough to bring my young half sister, Charlotte Wrayburn, with me in the hope that you will allow me to present her to your notice and Miss Katherine Huxtable’s.”
He oozed respectability and perfect good manners, Katherine noticed in some indignation.
“But of course.” Meg hurried across the room, reaching out her right hand to the girl as she went. “Miss Wrayburn. How delightful! Meet my sister too, and our brother, the Earl of Merton. And our cousin, Mr. Constantine Huxtable.”
The girl blushed and made a series of curtsies as Meg indicated each of them in turn.
“I have not yet made my come-out,” she explained, “because I am not quite eighteen. But Jasper and Miss Daniels, my companion, have said that it is unexceptionable for me to make a few carefully selected acquaintances this year.”
“And since I wished to call here anyway,” Lord Montford said, “and Miss Daniels is otherwise occupied this afternoon, I suggested that Charlotte accompany me.”
“I am delighted you did, Monty,” Stephen said, smiling and bowing. “I shall be sure to reserve a set with you at your come-out ball next spring, Mis
s Wrayburn-well in advance and on the strength of a prior acquaintance.”
She laughed and blushed.
“Charmed, Miss Wrayburn,” Constantine said with a smile.
“And I am delighted too,” Margaret said. “Do come and sit here beside me, Miss Wrayburn. Constantine, pull the bell rope beside you, if you will, and I will have more tea and cakes brought up. Lord Montford, please have a seat.”
Katherine, who had got to her feet on the entry of the visitors, sat down on the half of the love seat she had been occupying before. Before Constantine could pull the bell rope and rejoin her on the other half, Lord Montford took it. And as he did so, he looked at her for the first time since he had entered the room-with a very direct, very intense, very… sizzling glance that was hidden from all the other occupants of the room.
It was a glance quite deliberately intended to discompose her, of course, and announce to her that he had not for a moment forgotten last evening or his determination to win his wager.
Neither his shoulder nor his thigh touched her own after he had seated himself, but she could feel both, and her heart raced, half with indignation and half with an awareness of his physical proximity even stronger than she had felt last evening when they had actually been touching.
“I trust, Miss Huxtable,” he said, turning his head to address Katherine, “you enjoyed the ball last evening?”
“I did, indeed, my lord, I thank you,” she said. Despite the fact that one particular waltz ruined it, she would have added if there had not been the chance that someone else might have overheard the words.
“So did I,” he said. “It is always a pleasure, is it not, to discover some of one’s dearest friends at any social entertainment.”
His manners were impeccable. His eyes smiled. Only she, who was looking into them from the distance of a mere foot or so, could see the merriment and the mockery lurking in their depths. He was enjoying himself.
Miss Wrayburn, who was at first blushing and silent, soon relaxed under the combined kind ministrations of Meg and Stephen, and chattered happily upon any topic that was suggested to her. Katherine smiled warmly at her.