“But of course, sir. That is the goal, is it not? You look bad, my brother loses his fondness for you, and then I get what I want.”
“Your brother is watching us? I hadn’t realized he was here tonight.”
“He’s not, drat him, which means you will have to behave exceptionally badly so that he will hear the reports.”
“Exceptional badness is one thing I am very good at, my dear.”
She gave a smile that said she had a hint of his meaning and wasn’t for one minute worried about it. She took his words in jest, of course. If she knew how serious he was, he wondered if she’d have run away in terror. Any decent woman would.
“Tell me, Miss Rastmoor,” he said when the dance brought them near enough for private conversation again. “If your brother is not here, who then are you continually looking for?”
“What? Oh, my friend Miss Bradley. Have you seen her here?”
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know it if I had. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Miss Bradley.”
“Oh, you’ve seen her. You recall, she was with my mother that first evening when we…er, when we met.”
He felt he could allow himself to be quite flattered by the lovely pink that stole over her fair complexion. Yes, he recalled that first evening. It was rather reassuring to know that she did, as well. He could not, however, recall this Miss Bradley.
“Oh look! There she is!”
He missed a step as he turned to let his gaze follow in the direction of Miss Rastmoor’s. “That is your Miss Bentley?”
“Miss Bradley. And yes. She looks quite lovely, does she not?”
“Indeed she does.”
Odd that he might not have remembered this vision.
“I helped select her gown for this evening,” Miss Rastmoor said with unmistakable pride.
“Clearly you are a true friend.”
Now she was practically beaming. “Promise me you will dance with her tonight.”
“What?”
“At least once. Please?”
“Well, I don’t know…”
“Please? It would mean the world to her. And to me.”
It would mean he was not getting any closer to obtaining his goal, that’s what wasting time dancing with this Miss Bradley would mean. As much as Miss Rastmoor would like it, as much as she might bat her enormous, glittering eyes at him, as much as she might slide her body against his as they passed in the movement of the dance, he simply would not do it. Not even if he wanted to, and he did not want to.
“Please, Lord Harry?”
“Oh, very well.” Damn, those mesmerizing blue eyes and her tremulous pink lips.
“Wonderful! I can hardly wait to introduce you two.”
She spent the rest of the dance singing the many praises of her partnerless friend. He spent the time grumbling at his own petty weakness. He should be working to get Miss Rastmoor off on her own, to find out what he could about that scarab and do what he needed to do to get it from her. She should be succumbing to his pleas and entreaties, not vice versa.
Well, if it would put him in Miss Rastmoor’s good graces, he supposed he could spare one dance for her friend. But only one. Then he would put his full energy into the task at hand. Tonight, Miss Rastmoor would give up her greatest treasure for him. He would sweep her off her feet. He would make himself so irresistible she would not be able to think of anything but…
Hell. Her thoughts had already been captured elsewhere, if the look that suddenly came over her face was any indication. Her eyes were fixed on a spot far across the room, and now a slow, meaningful smile pulled up at one corner of her delicate lips. And she was not studying Miss Bradley.
Markland. Damn, why must it be Markland? His beautiful fiancée was gazing off with a smile, pining for Markland while she was supposed to be smitten with him. This was going to make what he’d had planned for later just that much more difficult.
And sweeter.
MR. MARKLAND LOOKED EVEN MORE HANDSOME THAN Penelope recalled. Indeed, he was a fine-looking man. The fact that he was here likely meant he came from a proper family, too. Although, she supposed she couldn’t put much stock in that. After all, Lord Harry was here and he certainly was less than perfect. Well, it was unlikely Maria would fall in love with Markland after just one evening. She could investigate him on her friend’s behalf later.
For now, though, she would get the two of them together. Oh, but what a lovely couple they’d make! Surely Maria could not object. And the more gentlemen who danced with her tonight, the more other gentlemen would notice. They were positively like dogs with a bone in that regard; if one gentleman appeared interested in a lady, she suddenly became more interesting to all the others.
How kind of Lord Harry to agree to dance with her. The way everyone had been watching them tonight—newly engaged and seemingly mismatched—Maria would surely draw attention to herself if she stood up with Lord Harry. And now that Penelope had good reason to consider herself on friendly terms with such an attractive gentleman as Mr. Markland, it would be a simple matter of assuring that he noticed Maria and became aware of her many good qualities.
She’d never fancied herself a matchmaker, but this was building up to be quite a bit of fun for her tonight. More importantly, once Maria’s aunt realized she was suddenly so highly regarded by eligible gentlemen, she would stop her disturbing talk of taking Maria away from London. Penelope’s plan tonight seemed foolproof, and would help more than just herself. And to think, Mamma often accused her of being selfish.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, curtsying to Lord Harry when their dance was over. “You are an excellent partner.”
“No, Miss Rastmoor, it is you who made the dance enjoyable. But come, surely you are in need of something to drink, and perhaps a bit of fresh air?”
“Some lemonade, I think, but I’ve no need of any change of air. Besides, I see Miss Bradley is making her way over here and I’m more than impatient to introduce you. And don’t forget, you agreed to favor her with one dance.”
“Yes, so I did.”
He wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic about it as she might have liked, but she allowed him to be just a bit apprehensive when it came to dancing with a young lady he’d never before met. Perhaps he feared that she had not confided the details of their charade to her friend. Indeed, that would make things a bit uncomfortable for him, wouldn’t it? She could almost laugh to picture him stuck on the dance floor with a giddy young woman who expected him to be deep in the throes of true love with her best friend.
Perhaps she might find a way to assure him that Maria knew the details and could hardly be called giddy. Ever.
“Maria!” she called when her friend was near enough. “You look simply stunning! I love what you’ve done with your hair.”
“Thank you. I was half inclined not to come tonight, but knew you’d be terribly disappointed in me if I…”
Her voice trailed off when her eyes fell on Lord Harry.
Penelope stepped into the silence. “Miss Maria Bradley, may I please present Lord Harris Chesterton?”
She got the idea Maria would rather she did not present the gentleman, but her friend was too well-bred to let the sentiment show plainly on her face. For long. After a pained moment with just the hint of a dark look, Maria finally nodded. Slightly.
He bowed with consummate grace. “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Bradley. Your friend has told me a great many fine things about you.”
“I wasn’t aware that Miss Rastmoor spent so much time discussing me with her imaginary fiancé,” Maria said with a sugary-sweet smile.
Well, at least now Penelope didn’t have to worry about how to inform Lord Harry just how much Maria knew about them. Getting the girl to agree to stand up with him might be a bit dicey, however.
“I see Miss Rastmoor trusts you implicitly, Miss Bradley,” Lord Harry said. “She’s a fortunate young lady to have such a friend as you to confide in.”
“She’d be even more fortunate if she saw fit to take my advice when I warned her this silly plan of hers would lead her straight to ruin, Lord Harry.”
“Now, Maria,” Penelope said, keeping her voice light and hoping no one around them was near enough to hear. “Lord Harry is everything kind and generous. Why, he would like nothing better than to invite you to dance, isn’t that so, Lord Harry?”
Even the people across the room from them could have seen the glare in Lord Harry’s eyes. Still, he collected himself and bowed again for Maria, his tone as cultured and polished as royalty.
“It would be my great honor if you would have this dance with me, Miss Bradley.”
Penelope fully expected she would have to do some cajoling to get Maria to agree, but she found herself quite surprised when, after only a brief hesitation, Maria nodded to the gentleman and took the arm he offered her.
“Very well, sir. I should enjoy a dance with you, I believe.”
Lord Harry nodded acceptance, but he did manage to shoot Penelope one brief, glowering look over his shoulder as the pair left to go join the next set. Knowing Maria as she did, Penelope could almost feel sorry for the man. No doubt he’d be in for a barrage of questions and perhaps one or two accusations. Still, he could handle it.
Lord Harry was nothing if not durable.
Now, she needed to move on to the next portion of her plan. She needed to find Mr. Markland. And she needed a reasonable excuse for strolling up to him and initiating a conversation without drawing too much attention to herself. It would not do to have everyone here doubting her devotion to her very unsuitable fiancé. She would have to be very cautious not to give any appearance of interest in Mr. Markland outside of that which might promote her friend.
The gentleman, however, made it easy. He walked right up to her and smiled.
“Miss Rastmoor, how good to see you so well and unaffected by your earlier disaster.”
“Why Mr. Markland, did you expect to see me all frazzled and drawn?”
“Good heavens, no. I doubt even the direst mishap could leave you looking anything but perfectly lovely.”
She busied herself with her fan. My, but this gentleman was nearly as adept at flattery as Lord Harry. This of course made her quite warm toward him.
“I thank you, sir, both for your service to me earlier today as well as for your undeserved praises now.”
“Hardly undeserved, Miss Rastmoor, as I’m sure your devoted fiancé must tell you again and again. Odd, I should have expected to find him here, latched onto your side and keeping watch over you.”
“He is there.” She pointed. “I allow him occasional freedom, sir. He is dancing with my very dear friend, Miss Bradley. Does she not seem enthralled by whatever he is telling her?”
“Indeed, she seems to be listening attentively.”
“Oh, she is an excellent listener, sir. I have often found that to be a quality greatly to be desired in one’s companion. Haven’t you?”
“It has its merit, although I have never thought of Chesterton as much of a conversationalist.”
“You and he are well acquainted?”
“Somewhat. He seems rather to be enjoying his time with your Miss Bradley, though.”
Ah, he’d rather discuss Maria than Lord Harry? That seemed a good sign. Penelope was only too happy to indulge him.
“As they are both quite dear to me, I am hoping they will get along well in company.”
“I doubt you have anything to fear on that account,” he said, his eyes carefully following the pair through the intricate moves of the country dance. “Chesterton seems to excel in getting along well in company, especially when the company is an attractive female.”
Oh, so he thought Maria attractive! This was progressing quite beyond even what she had hoped. Truly, the addition of a fashionable gown, some colorful ribbon, and a few curls had done something remarkable. Maria had been transformed into a beauty.
“She is attractive, isn’t she?” Penelope couldn’t help but smile. “Although she is one of those dear girls who truly has no idea how lovely she is. Modesty and humility are her nature, Mr. Markland.”
He took his eyes off the dancers, and Penelope found him studying her. Likely he was trying to determine if her many praises for Miss Bradley were in earnest.
“You seem to have very high standards for your acquaintances, Miss Rastmoor,” he said after a moment’s pause.
“Oh no, I try to be quite tolerant of my acquaintances, sir. It is only my friends who must have proven themselves exceptional.”
He nodded, and slid his gaze back toward Maria. “Well spoken, Miss Rastmoor. I had determined you to be quite discerning in your tastes. Clearly you are a young lady who appreciates the extraordinary.”
How lovely! He was giving her opportunity upon opportunity to recite the many wonderful qualities of her friend. “Indeed, sir, I surround myself with it. For instance—”
“Your necklace.”
“Pardon?”
“Your necklace is quite extraordinary.”
“Er, yes, I suppose it is. In fact, I was just telling Miss Bradley how—”
“It is Egyptian, is it not?”
“It is, sir. How perceptive of you.”
“I have rather a passing interest in antiquities with Egyptian origin.”
“Do you? How fascinating.”
“Are you aware that this amulet is called a scarab, a type of beetle common to that area of the world?”
“Yes, actually, I had heard that.”
“It represents the constant battle of life and death, morning and night, darkness and light.”
“Er, yes, so I had heard. The scarab pushes the orb that represents—”
“May I ask where you got it?”
“What?”
“Where you got that beautiful necklace, Miss Rastmoor. Was it a gift from someone, perhaps?”
“No, it wasn’t, actually. Why do you ask?”
“No reason. I merely thought perhaps your fiancé might have taken a fancy to it and presented it as a token of his affection.”
Really? How very odd. True, now that she thought of it, Lord Harry had asked after the scarab and commented on it a time or two, but she thought it far more likely that he did so merely as a part of their charade rather than any interest he actually might have had in the item. Lord Harry did not strike her as a man who gave much thought to aesthetics. She wondered why Mr. Markland should think him otherwise.
“I purchased the scarab myself, Mr. Markland,” she informed him. “I have quite a passion for Egyptian antiquities.”
“Do you now? You must tell me about it, Miss Rastmoor. Have you other items you’ve collected?”
“I’m hardly a collector, Mr. Markland. Not like some I’ve met with veritable museums in their homes.”
“Oh? And who would these fortunate souls be?”
As much as she would have enjoyed discussing artifacts and her passion for the history connected to them, she couldn’t help but note the exchange had a distinctly awkward feel. Of course Mr. Markland was just making conversation. She should be pleased to run across someone who shared at least a bit of her interest in Egyptian antiquities. She was silly to feel uncomfortable answering his many questions this way.
Or perhaps it was her guilty conscience that pricked and disrupted her ease. Indeed, her whole purpose in engaging Mr. Markland this way was not to find enjoyable discourse for herself, but to promote Maria’s cause. Likely that was the reason for her discomfort. She was going on and on about her own interests when she really ought to be giving Mr. Markland motive to ask for an introduction to her friend.
“You know, Miss Bradley also shares a great love for antiquities,” she said, proud of the graceful way she manipulated the discussion.
He seemed honestly impressed with this knowledge. “Does she now?”
“Oh yes. In fact, her knowledge and appreciation far exceed my own.”
This wasn’t e
xactly true, but Maria was a clever woman. She was very well read and could easily keep up with Penelope’s ravings about the various intricacies of Egyptian history as she learned more and more from Professor Oldham’s letters. Penelope had no doubt that her friend could certainly hold her own in a discussion of the topic with Mr. Markland or any other casually interested party.
“Then it is no small wonder that Lord Harry is so fascinated by your friend,” he remarked.
Penelope watched the couple still circulating through the steps of the country dance. Indeed, Maria seemed to be having a much better time than Penelope might have expected. And Lord Harry also seemed quite content with his partner. He was not glaring or glancing back over this way with anger as he had right at first.
“Miss Bradley is quite a fascinating person, Mr. Markland,” Penelope said, allowing a moment of pride for her protégée. “If you’d like, I would be happy to present you when she and Lord Harry return.”
“Yes, I believe I’d like that very much, Miss Rastmoor.”
“If you are lucky, sir, she might even be persuaded to join you in a dance.”
He didn’t speak to that, but he inclined his head in a manner that assured her he found that notion more than a little agreeable. Yes, she was being a bit presumptuous to suggest such a thing when the two of them had not so much as met one another, but this situation called for extra measures. Surely Maria’s future happiness was worth bending the rules of propriety just the smallest little bit.
She’d recognized Maria’s interest when she’d mentioned meeting Mr. Markland and his subsequent rescue. Her friend seemed to have been quite taken with the romantic notion of being rescued from certain death by a dashing young man. Of course she’d be thrilled to actually meet the hero of Penelope’s adventure and would, no doubt, find him to be just as dashing and attractive as one might hope. Maria would likely fall desperately in love straightaway.
And now that Penelope had discovered they shared a common interest in antiquities—even though Maria’s interest was really only secondhand—she would have an easier time of drawing them into conversation together. Everything was working out so perfectly! She could not help but smile at her own success. Ah, but perhaps there would soon be a real engagement to announce.
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