Camilla's Conscience

by Sandra Heath

  “Serve Lord Ennismount any refreshment he requires.”

  Hawkins bowed.

  Her eyes flashed toward Dominic again. “I trust you’re kept cooling your heels for a good few hours, sir,” she said cordially, and then turned to go back up the staircase again.

  He gazed furiously after her, but knew it would be wiser to leave matters at that.

  Hawkins waited uncomfortably. “Er, is there anything you require, my lord?” he asked after a moment.

  Dominic continued to watch Camilla. “Yes, a poisoned chalice,” he muttered.

  “Sir?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Well, actually there is something. The Prince Regent must be informed of the situation, to prevent any alarm on account of Mlle Arenburg’s safety. Would you tell my coachman to drive to Carlton House and tell Lady Cayne to inform His Royal Highness the young lady is safe and will remain here for the moment? The coachman may then return to Ennismount House, and I will make my own way back when I’m ready.”

  “My lord.”

  Turning, Dominic strode toward the drawing room. If Camilla thought he’d leave rather than endure the discomfort of her sofa, she was very much mistaken. And when willful Sophie Arenburg awoke, she was going to find him waiting, although God knows what he was going to do with her. She had him in a bind, and the Prince Regent and entire British government as well.

  He went to the fire, leaning a hand on the mantel and gazing into the glowing coals. Damn Sophie Arenburg, damn William de Marne, damn all creation! His thoughts were savage as his fingers drummed. He hadn’t wanted the task of watching over the czar’s ward, and he certainly hadn’t wanted to cross swords with Camilla again.

  Straightening, he thought of times gone by when he’d received a warm welcome in the Summerton household. The fire shifted in the hearth, and he turned instinctively toward the door, remembering an evening in the drawing room of their rented house in Park Lane. It wasn’t long after Harry and Camilla were first married, and he’d gone there to accompany them to the theater.

  Originally there had been a foursome, but the young lady he’d been escorting had cried off at the last moment. Now he couldn’t even remember her name. She’d never been important anyway. He’d waited by the fireplace just as he was now, and the coals of that other fire had shifted in the hearth as Camilla came in.

  She wore a low-cut satin gown the color of wild roses, and there was a dainty jeweled comb in her dark hair. She was twenty years old, lithe, fresh, and enchanting, and she seemed to light up the room as she came to greet him.

  “How dashing you look tonight, Dominic,” she murmured, closing her white-gloved fingers warmly over his.

  “And how very beautiful you look, Camilla.”

  “You have a way with words, sir, for I know I’m not beautiful.”

  “You are to me.” The response slipped naturally from his lips, for it was the truth.

  Their eyes met, hers so dark and expressive they always arrested his attention. But what could he read now in that enigmatic gaze? Desire to match his own? He felt her hands tremble a little in his, and his glance moved briefly to the flawless curve of her breasts. His body stirred as desire flooded into his loins.

  Damn it, he wanted her so much he could have taken her right there. He longed to caress those breasts and draw their firm tips into his mouth, he ached to feel her arch beneath him as he slid into the fastnesses of her soul, and he yearned to hear her call out his name as he took possession. His name, not Harry’s ...

  Instead there was polite conversation. Stilted, but polite. She drew her hands slowly away. “I warrant half the women in London would die for your compliments, Dominic.”

  “Half the women in London wouldn’t receive my compliments.”

  “Then I’m doubly flattered.”

  “Camilla—”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you and Harry happy together? I mean, really happy?”

  Her eyes fled to meet his again. “Yes, of course.”

  “You have no regrets?”

  She didn’t reply immediately. “Lord Ennismount, what manner of question is that to ask a new bride?”

  “I think you know.”

  Her breath caught. “Please, Dominic ...”

  For the briefest of moments he touched her cheek. “Don’t be fearful, for I’m not about to say it aloud.”

  “You must never say it.” She moved away from him, keeping her eyes averted for a long moment as she struggled to regain her composure. When she spoke again it was to make a lighthearted remark. “I—I’m very fortunate to be escorted by two gallant gentlemen tonight.”

  “Two? Who is the other fellow?” he countered in the same manner.

  She smiled gratefully. “I do believe I’ve forgotten his name. Let me see, what was it now? Tom? Dick? No, I have it. Harry.”

  Then Harry himself appeared in the doorway behind them, his golden hair bright in the light from the chandeliers, “What’s this? My wife and my best friend indulging in a flirtation?”

  A flush of color stung her cheeks. “Hardly a flirtation,” she murmured, going to kiss his cheek.

  Harry grinned, slipping his arm around her tiny waist as he glanced toward the cognac decanter on the table. “Have we time for a noggin before we leave?”

  Camilla shook her head quickly. “No, let’s go now, or we’ll be late.”

  “As you wish.”

  There had been ample time, as she well knew, she just hadn’t wanted to linger because Harry’s humorous observation about flirting was a little close to home. The color remained on her cheeks, and she was very quiet during the drive to Drury Lane, but during the performance, when the lamps were subdued and the audience was enthralled by Macbeth, it wasn’t at her husband that she gazed.

  Dominic stared into the past, recalling how he’d felt her eyes upon him. She hadn’t looked away when he turned toward her, and he saw so much written on her face. All the forbidden, wanton things he knew were written on his own.

  Suddenly the past scattered as Hawkins entered the drawing room, and it was the present again. “Begging your pardon, my lord?”

  Dominic drew himself up sharply. “Yes?”

  “I thought you should know your coachman has left for Carlton House. He will drive back to Ennismount House afterward as instructed.”

  “Thank you.”

  “My lord.” The butler withdrew again.

  Dominic took off his coat and flung it unceremoniously over a chair before sitting on the sofa. He stretched his long legs out and leaned his head back wearily. He had better things to do than fuss around after a wayward young woman whose only claim to importance lay in the identity of her guardian. And better things to do than sit in this damned drawing room wishing Sir Harry Summerton had married someone else all those years ago.

  “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may?” He wished to God that he’d followed Herrick’s advice. But it was too late now. Far too late.

  Chapter 6

  The mist had become a freezing fog when Camilla rose after only a few hours’ sleep. She didn’t ring for Mary, but dressed herself in an apricot merino morning gown and tied her long dark hair back with a brown velvet ribbon before sending for Hawkins.

  He came immediately. “Good morning, my lady.”

  “Good morning, Hawkins. Is Lord Ennismount still here?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “What a pity. How is Mlle Arenburg?”

  “I understand she’s well, my lady. She’s in her room at the moment.”

  Camilla nodded. “Tell me, Hawkins, have you commenced preparations for our return to Summerton Park?”

  “Yes, my lady. Everything will be ready for tomorrow morning, and I’ve dispatched a messenger to see the servants there have the house warmed and ready.”

  “Excellent. There may be a slight change in the plans because Mlle Arenburg might accompany me. It’s not settled yet, though. That will be all for the moment.”

  “My lady.�
�

  Camilla went to Sophie’s room shortly afterward, but just as she reached it the door opened and Mary came out. The maid seemed startled and almost dismayed to see her. “Oh, my lady!”

  “Good morning, Mary. Good morning, Sophie,” Camilla replied, entering the room.

  Sophie was by the window. She wore a lace-trimmed nightgown Camilla had lent to her, and her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders. She’d been looking down into the square, but turned with a quick smile. “Bonjour, Lady Camilla. It is very foggy this morning, n’est-ce pas?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I cannot see anything outside.”

  Camilla went to look out as well. The fog swirled silently over the pavement, and the cobbled carriageway vanished into a white gloom. A hackney coach was a mere shadow, and the sound of its passing echoed long after it had ceased to be visible.

  Sophie glanced at her. “Winter mornings are misty like this in St. Petersburg, although much, much colder, and always with deep snow and ice.”

  “I can imagine.” Camilla went to hold her hands out to the newly stoked fire.

  Sophie watched her. “Lord Ennismount is here, is he not? Mary told me.”

  “Yes, he came last night, not long after you’d gone to bed.”

  “You are going to tell me I must go back with him, aren’t you?” Sophie’s tone was a little accusing.

  “No, I’m going to ask you again if you still wish to stay with me.”

  “Of course.”

  “Then I will support you when we speak to Lord Ennismount.”

  “We? I do not wish to speak to him,” Sophie replied, the familiar scowl appearing on her face.

  “You have to speak to him, Sophie. He’s hardly going to take my word for everything you said last night.”

  “He will try to make me leave with him.”

  “To try is one thing, to succeed quite another,” Camilla observed dryly. Make Sophie Arenburg do something she didn’t want to? One might as well try to make a pig fly.

  Sophie took comfort from the observation. “That is true. He cannot force me, not when I can make things so awkward.”

  Camilla eyed her a little crossly. “And you can stop making threats, veiled or otherwise, young lady. I want your solemn promise that you’re going to behave yourself while you’re with me. You’re to conduct yourself decorously, and there certainly isn’t to be any contact with William, is that clear?”

  “I will not be ordered,” Sophie answered, raising her chin grandly and adopting what Camilla was coming to recognize as her St. Petersburg stance. “Czar Alexander is my guardian, and—”

  “Oh, spare me,” Camilla interrupted wearily. “I like you and want to help if I can, Sophie, but you’ll make both feats impossible if you continue in this vein. All these airs and theatricals might be acceptable in St. Petersburg, but this is London, and I’m not prepared to put up with them. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Sophie muttered sullenly.

  “I didn’t quite hear,” Camilla replied, determined to have a more gracious response than that.

  “Oui, Lady Camilla, I understand,” Sophie said politely.

  “That’s better. Now then, do you want my assistance?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then abide by my rules.”

  Sophie pouted a little, but nodded. “I will do all you ask, Lady Camilla.”

  “Do you promise?”

  “Yes.”

  Camilla sighed with relief. “Thank goodness for that. Now then, where has Mary gone?”

  “Mary? Oh, I—I asked her to bring me a cup of tea.”

  She seemed a little uncomfortable, Camilla thought curiously, her puzzlement increasing as she saw an empty cup already on the little table by the pagoda-canopied bed. “More tea? But you’ve already had some.”

  “I—I was thirsty.”

  At that moment Mary returned, but her hands were empty.

  Sophie looked crossly at her. “Mary, you have forgotten my tea!”

  The maid blinked. “Forgive me, mam’selle, I’ll get it right away.”

  Camilla shook her head. “There isn’t time now. I want Mlle Arenburg to see Lord Ennismount. Where is the morning gown she selected from my wardrobe last night?”

  “Here, my lady.” Mary hurried into the adjoining dressing room and returned with an amber marguerite gown.

  Camilla turned to Sophie. “Be so good as to get ready, for the sooner we confront Lord Ennismount, the sooner we’ll know if you can remain with me.”

  As the two young women adjourned to the dressing room, Camilla went back to the window to look out at the square. She wondered how amenable he’d be this morning after spending a few uncomfortable hours on a sofa. But perhaps his disposition wasn’t of consequence, for what really mattered was the reaction of the Prince Regent and the government to Sophie’s threats. In all probability the girl was going to get her way, for everyone was bound to prefer to see her out of London if she was likely to tell mischievous fibs to the Grand Duchess Catherine.

  At last Sophie was ready, and Camilla smiled. “Shall we go down?”

  “If we must”

  “Oh, we must,” Camilla replied firmly, ushering her to the door.

  They found Dominic seated by the fire reading the morning newspaper, but he hastily set it aside and rose to his feet as they entered.

  Camilla halted before him. “Good morning, Lord Ennismount.”

  “Lady Camilla.” He bowed, and then inclined his head to Sophie, “Mademoiselle Arenburg,” he murmured.

  “Milord,” Sophie replied.

  Camilla couldn’t help thinking anew how handsome he was, and how elegant, even though he’d spent the night in his evening clothes. His dark hair was a little ruffled, and his chin in need of a shave, but somehow he still didn’t look less than superb. He was the quintessential aristocrat, cool, poised, and never at a disadvantage. Well, almost never.

  He was still looking at Sophie. “What have you to say for yourself this morning, mademoiselle?” he asked.

  “That I am sorry I ran away, Lord Ennismount, but I am not sorry I am here with Lady Camilla. I wish to stay with her.”

  Dominic’s blue eyes were coldly penetrating. “Mademoiselle Arenburg, your behavior has been reprehensible in the extreme. Not only have you run away without any thought of the consternation and alarm your disappearance would cause, but you’ve also been indulging in a clandestine liaison with Lord de Marne. Such a friendship is most definitely out of the question as far as you are concerned, as I think you know full well.”

  “Are you going to tell tales on me, milord?” Sophie’s eyes were wide and innocent, but the conclusion to be drawn from her words was only too obvious. Tell tales on me, and I’ll tell some t*ales of my own!

  Dominic studied her. “No doubt you think you’re very clever, mademoiselle.”

  Sophie took a long breath. “Lord Ennismount, I have made no secret of not wanting to marry Prince Ludwig, but the grand duchess has decided on the match and that is that. But if she has time to see what a beast he is, maybe she will decide against the match after all.”

  “Beast?” Dominic was a little startled.

  Sophie nodded. “Yes, a womanizing beast.”

  Camilla felt uncomfortable. “Young ladies shouldn’t say such things, Sophie.”

  “But it is the truth. I do not want to be anywhere near him, and that is why I hope I will be allowed to go with you, my lady. The prince will be more interested in the greenroom at Drury Lane than me, and the grand duchess can be told influenza is rife where I am staying. That will make her very glad I’m not with her, I promise you. She has a morbid fear of becoming ill, you see.”

  “Oh, I see all right, I see you’ve planned this quite thoroughly.”

  “I’m doing what I must.”

  Dominic’s eyes swung to Camilla. Unspoken words hung in the air. “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may...”

  Sophie pleaded with him. “I beg that you le
t me stay with Lady Camilla, milord.”

  “It’s not up to me.”

  “But you will speak on my behalf?” Sophie pressed. “I will be good, milord, like a little mouse. Lady Camilla will not even know I am there.”

  Dominic knew he had no real choice but to agree to put her proposition to the relevant parties. “Very well, mademoiselle, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Oh, thank you, milord.” Sophie seemed about to fling herself in his arms.

  He went on: “But I have no authority to make the decision, it’s up to the Prince Regent and the prime minister, and the Russian ambassador must be consulted as well.”

  Sophie’s face fell. “The ambassador?”

  “I think so, don’t you? You may be a British responsibility at the moment, but soon you’ll be a Russian one again, and the ambassador is the czar’s official representative. If they are all agreeable, I’m sure you’ll be permitted to accompany Lady Camilla. If not, I’m afraid you must adhere to the original plan and come back to Ennismount House with me in readiness to meet the grand duchess.”

  “If I cannot have my way in this, I will carry out my threat, milord. I will be the most believable liar in all the world! I will say such terrible things to the grand duchess that she will leave London in a huff. She will then repeat everything to the czar, and—”

  Dominic interrupted acidly. “Mademoiselle Arenburg, I find you most disagreeable when you behave like this. Are all the czar’s wards so disgracefully ill-mannered and selfish, or is it your sole prerogative?”

  Sophie flushed. “I—I am not ill-mannered and selfish!” she protested.

  “Oh, yes, you are, miss,” he snapped.

  Sophie glared at him, but then lowered her eyes. “I am sorry, milord.”

  “So you should be. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Lady Camilla alone.”

  Without another word, Sophie turned to hurry from the room, and as the door closed behind her, Dominic faced Camilla.

  “I trust you know what you’re doing?” he said.

  “I believe so.”

  “If you don’t, now is the time to say it.”

  Tell him she felt out of her depth? She’d rather wear sackcloth and ashes! “I’m sure Mlle Arenburg and I will manage very well together, Lord Ennismount,” she replied coolly.