Mouette heaved a huge sigh. "I'm not sure. That's what worries me so! He won't talk to me, Lindsay. What's worse is that I become so nervous I eat too much and spend too much and complain or nag too much, and that makes everything worse. I don't know... my suspicions shift from day to day, depending on Harry's behavior. Sometimes, when he doesn't touch me for a week or more, I believe again that he is in love with someone else. Then I decide that gambling is to blame. I just don't know."
"Does he ever ask you what Papa says about the war between America and England?"
Raising her eyes, Mouette stared at her sister, then blinked. "What a question! As a matter of fact, we have been known to discuss the war from America's viewpoint. Why?"
"Oh, nothing. I just—" Lindsay broke off thankfully when the Brandreths' housekeeper appeared in the doorway to inform her mistress that the man with the flowers had arrived.
Mouette also seemed happy for the distraction. "Wonderful! Let's go down and look, Lindsay. It's getting late, you know, and we mustn't linger here any longer. Why, the rout begins in just six hours!"
* * *
While dressing that evening, Lindsay racked her brain for a means of speaking to Ryan alone. Cassie was there every minute, helping her slide into an exquisite gown of white gros de Naples ornamented at the bottom of the skirt by a broad band of satin wreathed in pearls. The corsage was cut low to accentuate Lindsay's creamy breasts and made a deep V to bare half of her back. More pearled satin topped the gown's short puffed sleeves, and a wide sash was tied in a long bow at the back. Tonight, Lindsay wore a slim band of emeralds that encircled her upper right arm. More emeralds shone in her ears, and Cassie was now carefully pinning pale yellow rosebuds into her mistress's luxuriant upswept curls.
"You smell quite wonderful, Miss Lindsay," Cassie observed. "Must be that scent we put in your bath."
Lindsay's gray eyes were distant. "I suppose so, Cassie."
"It'll all work out somehow, you know. I can feel it."
She was afraid to ask what the housekeeper meant.
Still, Cassie had seen her kissing Ryan. What else could she be referring to?
"How did you find your sister?" the older woman was asking now.
"I'm not quite certain. Rather troubled, I think." Lindsay looked straight at her now. "Don't you still have to help Mama dress? I would feel so much better if I could speak to Captain Coleraine before we leave for the rout."
Cassie sighed and pushed back her own damp curls. The night was warm. "Go ahead, then. I'll see that your parents are occupied." Watching Lindsay back away while smiling gratefully, she muttered, "I should have known that day he carried you off down Pettipauge's Main Street. If any other man had dared to do such a thing, you probably would have seen him dead."
"Ryan is a bit more difficult to get rid of," the girl said, laughing.
"Just the man for you, then, hmm?"
An incandescent smile lit Lindsay's countenance. "Yes, I think so!"
Alone, then, yet still basking in her young mistress's glow, Cassie considered the transformation Lindsay had undergone. Before Captain Coleraine burst into her life, she had been much too serious for a girl of her age, beauty, and promise. She had hidden from life then. How could Cassie disapprove of a man who had drawn Lindsay out into the sunlight and taught her to laugh and to enjoy being a woman?
* * *
Sitting near the cold fireplace in his room, Ryan smoked a thin cheroot and sipped a small portion of brandy. His feet, shod by Hoby, were propped on a footstool, and his dark blue frock coat was slung across the bottom of his bed.
"What would Beau Brummell say?" admonished a voice from the doorway.
Ryan paused in the act of rubbing his eyes and laughed suddenly. "Ah, angel, you've appeared just in time. How lovely you look!" Standing up, he arched a brow at her. "Don't forget to close the door."
She did so, then crossed to pick up his coat and shake out imaginary wrinkles. "Tsk, tsk!"
"Thank God I'll soon be able to go back to my old ways." Ryan slipped his arms around her waist, and she touched her nose to his shirtfront and breathed in its fresh scent. His cravat was tied in an intricate, unique style, and snug pale yellow pantaloons skimmed his long, lean-muscled legs.
"Your old ways?" Lindsay whispered half playfully. "Never quite."
A slow smile spread over his face. "I imagine the new ways will be far more enjoyable."
They kissed lingeringly, then Lindsay pushed herself away with a small moan. "It's nearly time to leave for Mouette and Harry's. Cassie promised to keep Mama busy, but it's quite possible that Papa might appear. We should open the door and talk quietly—and sit in separate chairs!"
Ryan nodded and went over to reopen his bedroom door partway. "Sit down, then, and tell me about your afternoon."
She took a wing chair across from his and softly described all that had happened between herself and Mouette. Listening, Ryan sipped his brandy, then nodded grimly when she had finished. He handed the snifter to Lindsay and she took a swallow, made a face, then handed it back.
He smiled in spite of himself. "That reminds me of the morning you hoisted my bottle of Irish whiskey on board the Chimera. I thought you'd keel over right there."
"You underestimated me, sir!"
"Truer words were never spoken, brat." He chuckled softly. Reaching out, Ryan lifted her hand and kissed it with warm lips. "I never would have believed that morning what the future held for us. But that's another conversation, and for the moment we must concentrate on Harry Brandreth."
"Poor Mouette!" her sister whispered mournfully.
"Yes." He rubbed the edge of his jaw. "And I fear her lot will not improve anytime soon. Fortunately, she's a Raveneau and ought to land on her feet once she learns to navigate alone again."
"Does any of this surprise you?"
"No, but it's good to have our suspicions confirmed. I think that Mouette has her husband figured out pretty well, except for the source of his money. In spite of her own problems, she's gone to the heart of Harry's quite skillfully." His penetrating blue eyes held Lindsay's. "Do you think that Mouette loves her husband?"
"I—I'm not certain. Why? Would that matter?"
"It could... but perhaps I'm better off not knowing. Will you help me tonight?"
"Have you a plan?" she asked excitedly.
"Something like that. I would like Harry to think that I am overimbibing. When you see me near him with a glass, make a point of scolding me so that he can hear you. All right?"
"Won't you tell me what you mean to do?"
"Shh." Hearing footsteps in the corridor, Ryan laid a dark forefinger over her mouth and she bit it lightly in rebellion. "Behave yourself. It's time for us to join our parents, dear sister. This promises to be a highly educational evening."
"I hope so!" she whispered, watching as Ryan paused to pick up quizzing glass and snuffbox from the table beside his bed. "I'm longing for a huge, exciting adventure that will unravel this mystery once and for all!"
* * *
After waiting in the crush of carriages outside the Brandreth house in Belgrave Square, the Raveneaus alighted and stood in line once again to be received by their host and hostess.
Harry looked a trifle flushed, but Mouette, though pale, was beautifully garbed in champagne muslin and rubies. Her husband held up her hand to display a magnificent ruby and diamond ring.
"Aren't you going to show them my gift to you, darling?"
"Of course." Mouette glanced almost painfully at Lindsay, then smiled at her parents. "Isn't Harry generous?"
Raveneau looked dubious but managed a polite nod, while his wife murmured the appropriate compliments. They were starting toward the drawing room in order to make room for others to enter the entry hall when Mouette put her hand on Devon's arm.
"Mama, I remembered the disparaging things you said about routs, so I decided to alter the usual formalities. I hired four musicians to play—violins, flute, and harpsichord. And the
servants will be passing among the guests with trays of food, just little cakes and bits of fruit and cheese, but I thought it would help. There's champagne, too—more than enough!"
Devon gave her a warm smile and patted her cheek. "Very wise, sweetheart. I'm certain your party will be a great success—and will create a whole new fashion!" Lifting her nose, she added, "I can already smell the roses!"
"Champagne, you say?" Ryan repeated, peering through his quizzing glass. "Bravo, sister dear! I have a prodigious thirst tonight."
Watching Ryan strut after his family into the drawing room in search of refreshment, Harry smirked. "I hate to say it, Mouette, but your brother is a raving fool. Can't understand how your parents produced him!"
The next group was lingering in the doorway, turning over hats, canes, and reticules to the porter. Mouette's nerves were just frazzled enough for her to speak to Harry without due consideration. "Nathan's not really such a fop. It's largely an act, you know."
"I don't take your meaning."
"Oh, never mind." She wanted to bite her tongue. "I can't really explain yet." Gratefully, Mouette stepped forward to greet the new surge of guests. "Good evening, Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, Lord Alvaney! How kind of you to come! And Lady Castlereagh, have you had news from your husband? How are the peace negotiations progressing in Ghent?"
Inside the spacious drawing room, Lindsay was looking around. With its soft gas lighting and mirrored pale lime walls, the room looked elegant and inviting in spite of the fact that all of the furniture had been removed to accommodate the crush of guests. From an alcove, the lilting strains of a Bach concerto wafted through the air.
"Have a tart," Ryan offered, appropriating a pastry filled with strawberries from a passing tray. The sight of Lindsay eating it, and then licking berries and cream from her rosy lips, made him clench his teeth. "I wish you wouldn't do that." He groaned, reaching for two fluted glasses of champagne from another footman's tray. He handed one to Lindsay. "I may need this after all."
"Look, there's Lord Chadwick," she murmured. "Perhaps you ought to go and speak to him before more rumors begin to circulate about our unnatural relationship...." Even as she spoke, Lindsay noticed Hester on the other side of the room watching them through narrowed emerald eyes.
"Hmm. I suppose you're right. No telling what he might say to me if I lead off with the proper inane remarks." Casually, his hand touched the inside of her upper arm in a caress that sent shivers down Lindsay's spine. "Don't forget to let Harry know that I'm drinking too much."
"I shan't." Watching Ryan cross the crowded room, she could only hope that her expression didn't betray the decidedly unsisterly emotions she felt.
"I have a confession to make," a quiet voice announced from Lindsay's right side. "I think I'm falling in love with your brother."
"I beg your pardon?" Startled, she looked over to discover Lady Emma Thorneycroft, a sweet-faced girl of seventeen who was in the midst of her first Season. The two of them had chatted several times while riding in Hyde Park. Lindsay had always thought it rather odd that Lady Emma had singled her out to pursue as a friend, but now it was making more sense. "My brother?" she echoed in tones of surprise. "But isn't he rather old for you?"
"I think he is perfect." Lady Emma sighed, her doe eyes and toffee-hued curls shining softly in the gaslight.
Lindsay looked at Ryan, who was lounging against the chimneypiece while taking snuff with languid grace. "Well, I must agree that Nathan is very handsome, but—"
"I know what you are going to say. Mr. Raveneau seems a fop, but I truly believe that there is a great deal more to him than that. Sometimes I watch him when he isn't aware of my regard and I perceive that there is a very real man under that facade." She sighed again.
"No doubt you imagine that you are just the woman to bring those qualities to the fore."
"I think he only needs a woman whom he could trust." Lady Emma nodded. "Please, won't you present me to him?"
"Well, I—" At that moment, a hand touched her other elbow and she glanced over to find Lord Fanshawe smiling adoringly at her. Lindsay had never been so pleased to see him. "Dudley! How handsome you look tonight!" She then looked back over at Emma, her eyes intensely apologetic. "Would you be terribly offended if I excuse myself for just a few moments? There are pressing matters I had promised to discuss with Lord Fanshawe, but when we finish I shall certainly introduce you to my brother—if you still wish it."
"Oh, of course!"
Lindsay reached for a glass of champagne and gave it to the girl, who politely wandered away, sipping the heady potion.
"My darling," Dudley whispered ardently in Lindsay's ear, "how I've missed you!"
"Well, I've been rather preoccupied with some family matters." She inquired after his parents, then chatted on about this and that before glancing over at Lady Emma again. The girl's cheeks were pink from champagne now. "Dudley, would you do me an enormous favor?"
"Name it, my goddess!"
Lindsay's blinked at that endearment. "I have promised to help my sister with one or two things, but in the meantime I'm quite concerned about Lady Emma Thorneycroft. Do you know her?"
He shrugged. "We've met. Quite a fetching girl."
"The thing is, Lady Emma has told me that she has developed a tendre for Nathan. Surely you can realize that her hopes are—"
"Doomed," Dudley supplied sarcastically.
Forcing a smile, Lindsay managed to reply sweetly, "That's a rather strong word, Dudley, but probably apt. In any case, I would be so grateful if you could distract her from Nathan for a bit. I don't think they've even spoken before, so this is obviously a passing fancy on her part. She might forget all about it if—well, if another man paid her a bit of attention, however polite."
Dudley straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest, eyeing the lovely Lady Emma. "Say no more, my dear. I take your meaning and I shall be pleased—and, indeed, proud!—to perform this favor for you!"
No sooner had he sauntered off than Lindsay saw Harry weaving his way through the crowd toward Ryan and Lord Chadwick. Looking in the other direction, she was relieved to discover that her own father had engaged Lady Chadwick in conversation. Lindsay started toward Ryan from another direction, and his eyes found hers over the heads of the other guests. He winked almost imperceptibly and took another glass of champagne from a passing servant.
Lindsay suppressed a smile that turned inward and spread a tingling warmth throughout her body. Their plan was already working! Together she and Ryan would succeed, and then they could come out in the open and announce their love to all of London!
Chapter 29
June 25-26, 1814
The Regent's arrival was announced in stentorian tones by the majordomo, and the crowd parted to allow him to enter. Accepting a glass of champagne, Prinny feigned boredom as he looked around for someone to talk to. The sight of lords Liverpool and Chadwick next to the fireplace brought out his contrary streak. He'd suffered enough humiliation at the hands of those damned royal visitors. Tonight he would salve his ego by watching the cream of the Tory party bow to him.
"Ah, Sir Harry!" the Regent murmured, approaching the cluster of men. "What's a Whig doing among this stellar group of Tories?"
"How can our two parties hope to compromise if we do not talk, Your Majesty?" Harry murmured, inclining his head. "And I am the host, after all."
Beads of perspiration had already begun to form on the Regent's brow, and his corseted stomach strained the confines of his waistcoat. "True, true. I must say, this is quite a rout! It's a great relief to see only English faces and hear only English voices after being subjected to those foreigners, hmm?" His eyes fell on Ryan then. "Gad, sir, my pardon! Of course I didn't mean you. I was referring to those barbarians from Europe who could scarcely make themselves understood! Thought they'd never go back to where they came from!"
"I must agree, Your Majesty, that it's a relief to have London quiet again," Lord Chadwick said.
&nb
sp; Prinny glanced over, certain that a subtle insult was intended. Few things had galled him more about the presence of the czar and his entourage than the fact that everywhere they went, they had been cheered wildly by his countrymen! Pretending to take snuff, he returned his attention to Harry. "I must say, Brandreth, that I appreciate the fact you didn't ask Brummell tonight. Most respectful of you."
Lindsay hovered outside the circle of men, wondering how she could interrupt to mention Ryan's drinking before Dudley appeared to reclaim her. How warm it was! She sipped her own champagne, uncertain whether she felt heady from its effects or the excitement of the evening.
Fortunately, at that moment, the Regent moved away to chat with a more adoring group of women. Lords Liverpool and Chadwick were greeting Colonel Dan McKinnon, a large, agile man with a genial personality and snapping black eyes. Seizing her chance, Lindsay slipped between Ryan and her brother-in-law.
"Wonderful rout, Harry!"
His brows elevated slightly. "You know better than to heap compliments on me, Lindsay. I think you probably helped Mouette more than I did."
"I'll wager you chose the champagne, though, hmm? It's really excellent." Her smile faded as she looked at Ryan. "Perhaps a bit too excellent. Nathan, I've seen you take at least six glasses. You mustn't have any more or you'll do something horrid that will embarrass our parents no end!"
Ryan eyed her through his quizzing glass, drawing in his lower lip in a fair imitation of a fish. "Lud, sis, you're becoming a termagant!"
Hot blood rushed to Lindsay's cheeks as she remembered the times he had called her that much earlier in their relationship. It was just the response Ryan had hoped for and his eyes glinted for an instant. "If I am, my dear brother, it must be because your unsavory behavior demands it!" With that, Lindsay gave him a frosty look and swept away.
"Women can be such a bore," Ryan drawled to Harry, "especially when they're relations, what?"
"Indeed." Harry drained his own glass of champagne when he saw a footman approaching with another tray. "Will you join me?"
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