by Julia Quinn
Seen her be an idiot.
She stopped and turned back to the man who had just kissed her. “I would very much appreciate it if you just left me alone. I’m not sure what it is you are about, but I am rather sure it is not anything a gentleman should be doing.” And Linney swirled around on her heel and walked as regally as she could manage away from Lord Darington.
The cad.
Chapter 4
This Author has it on the best authority that an elegantly dressed couple was seen kissing in the hallowed halls of the British Museum on Monday afternoon.
Unfortunately, This Author has not been able to definitively identify the persons making up this couple, and as all Gentle Readers know, while This Author may be a gossip, This Author is the best sort of gossip and only prints that which is one hundred percent, certifiably true.
Hence, no names will be named.
It must be noted, however, that it is difficult to imagine any two members of the ton anywhere in the vicinity of the British Museum, an institution which does seem to imply a certain degree of intelligence among its patrons.
The again, perhaps the amorous couple chose that lofty edifice for their tryst precisely because it is such an unlikely location for members of the ton.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 2 FEBRUARY 1814
Lady Caroline Starling had been cornered by Donald Spence on the icy banks of the Thames. She had, in fact, been forced to deal with the idiot for nearly ten minutes now. And though Terrance realized completely that Lady Caroline absolutely hated him at the moment, he was rather sure that she would actually see him as a blessing in the face of Donald’s rather buffoon like attentions.
In fact, he was a bit upset with Lord Pellering, Caroline’s escort to the Morelands’ skating party, for not rescuing her. But Lord Pellering, it seemed, was deeply engrossed in a conversation with Lord Moreland, dull Donald’s even duller father, about hunting dogs.
Anyone who could find the subject of hunting dogs more compelling than Caroline Starling was destined for Bedlam, surely.
“You are going to skate over there and be the gallant Sir Knight, aren’t you, Dare?”
Terrance squinted at Stu, over the top of his glass of Madeira.
His best friend just rolled his eyes. “I must say, Dare, I miss the old days. You know, when the thought of marriage made you wince, and you did not know the definition of the word ‘morals’?” Stu, rather unsteady on borrowed skates, stood beside Dare, as they watched everyone pretending to have a grand time at the worst skating party ever concocted, and grumbled.
“And you spoke more than three words a sentence,” Stu continued.
Terrance arched one brow at his friend.
“Right, completely unfair of me, old boy, but God, Dare, you now remind me of an uptight snob who either thinks I’m an idiot or doesn’t want to lower himself to my level to speak to me.”
“Both being true, I think it fair to say.”
Stu laughed without any humor and raising his hands as if praying mightily, said, “He speaks,” in a horribly dramatic fashion that did not become him at all.
Terrance just chuckled. “I am about my knightly duties.” He slapped his now-empty glass in Stu’s outstretched hand and pushed off to rescue the fair Caroline.
Miss Shelton-Hart had abandoned him, demanding that he turn his carriage around and return her home before they had gotten even halfway to the Swan Lane Pier where the Morelands had decided to hold their skating party. She was cold and tired and about a dozen other horrible inconveniences that Terrance had quit listening to almost the minute they had left the Shelton-Hart town house.
And, though it was truly horrible of him, Terrance could not have been happier. The chit was altogether hellish, and the fact that she was second on Stu’s list of marriageable females made Terrance even more certain that Stu’s list was not worth a tuppence.
Terrance maneuvered himself around a servant struggling with a serving cart on the ice and glided nicely to Caroline’s side.
“Caroline,” he said, placing his hand around her trim waist. “Skate with me.”
Donald scrunched up his rather prominent nose. “Lord Darington,” he said with a bit of a sneer. The boy really ought not to sneer, it did not help his looks in the least. “I had heard that you decided to leave your country cave and rejoin society.”
“And you heard right.” Terrance pushed off, taking Caroline with him, and leaving Donald to his sneering.
They moved in silence, Caroline quite proficient on her skates. He noticed that they fit perfectly against each other’s sides. Just as they had fit perfectly facing each other.
Conclusion: they definitely fit.
“Thank you,” she said finally.
Terrance glanced down at her in surprise. She was beautiful. The hood of her fur-lined pelisse framed her face, soft against her glowing cheeks and shining eyes. “You look lovely,” he said. “I like you in pink.”
Caroline’s cheeks reddened even further, and she looked away quickly, assuming great interest in the ten-piece orchestra set up on the pier. “I daresay you are an incredible liar, Lord Darington.” She made a soft sound that was probably meant to be a laugh, but Terrance knew it wasn’t. Not really. “I am sure no one would ever describe me as lovely.”
“But I did.”
She blinked up at him, and this time she really did laugh. “Yes, I guess you did.”
Terrance tried to think of how to say what he wanted to ask her. “You cannot believe that you are ugly” was what came out. Not quite right, but good enough.
“Oh, of course not,” she said quickly. “Well, that is to say…I am not saying that it is fact that I am not ugly, I mean…” She shook her head. “Obviously, I have no idea what I’m saying, but, suffice it to say, Lord Darington, I know that I am not ugly, but I am not lovely, either. I am most definitely not an extreme, you see, just very much in the middle.”
“You are perfect, then.”
She stumbled over her skates and nearly fell, but Terrance held on to her tightly. Perfect, most assuredly so, he thought, his hand at her waist. Not too thin, but not too thick, absolutely perfect.
He remembered the feel of her soft lips beneath his own, her sweet breath mingled with his, and decided that Lady Caroline Starling was beyond perfect. And it really was not just because he wanted to throw her down right there on the ice and ravage her until her eyes shone green like emeralds.
Really, it was not because of that at all.
Well, maybe a little.
But mostly it was because her eyes turned green, a startling fernlike color, when she cried. And when she kissed him, or yelled at him. Lady Caroline Starling had a passion within her that would make some man very happy someday.
If that man even realized that it was there. Terrance shot a dark glance at Lord Pellering.
Lord Pellering would never realize that passion lurked within Caroline. The man probably had no idea that passion lurked in anyone that didn’t bay at the moon and chase foxes up trees.
Actually, in the last few days, Terrance had begun to hope that maybe he might be the perfect man to uncover that passion and keep it burning at more regular intervals than it did at the moment.
In fact, he was rather sure that he was.
But to convince Lady Caroline was going to be rather difficult. Worth it, but difficult.
He had been holding her hand very lightly, but now Terrance threaded his fingers through hers.
She shivered, and he felt it against his chest.
“Are you cold?”
Rather than answer, Caroline just shook her head.
“Why did you cry at the theater?”
She stiffened, but then just as quickly she seemed to wilt against him. She shook her head, and this time she sighed as well. “I do not know,” she said quietly.
“Ah.”
She stiffened again, and this time she stayed that way. Terrance knew that somehow, somewhere he had once again
flirted with her ire. He did seem to do that a lot.
Caroline moved as if she would try to push away from him, but though it nearly put them into a snowbank, Terrance held on to her.
“You know, Lord Darington, I think you are even more pompous than Lord Rake.”
Lord Rake. Terrance wracked his brains. Did he know a Lord Rake?
Pompous? Terrance could not help but laugh. Him? Pompous? Being that he could barely speak his thoughts, that he had been declared brain damaged, actually, only two years before, he rather thought “pompous” an unfair description.
But suddenly he remembered that Stu had basically just called him the very same thing. Terrance’s silence must make him seem that way.
Stu understood. Caroline did not.
In fact, the servants and people of Ivy Park had seemed to take a very long time to get used to him as well.
“I…” He tried to find the words to tell Caroline. But finally he just said, “I would never make you cry.”
Now that was good: short, but sweet and rather romantic if he did say so. He congratulated himself even as he suddenly hurtled toward a snowbank.
It wasn’t until he was firmly imbedded in the treacherous mound of cold snow that he truly realized that Lady Caroline Starling had just pushed him headfirst into the thing.
Hm. Perhaps he had not been as romantic and sweet as he thought? Right. He was starting to understand with new clarity how very much easier it had been to woo women as a scoundrel and a rake than as a man in love and with marriage on his mind.
Good God, he was most definitely in love. Terrance knew this completely, because when he shook the snow from his hair and levered himself onto his knees, he did not wish to throttle the glaring Lady Caroline.
Well, maybe he did, but just a little.
No, he actually felt more compelled to make her understand.
Interesting, that.
“You wouldn’t make me cry, Lord Darington?” Caroline asked with definite tears glistening in her very green eyes.
“You are the only reason I have ever cried.” And with that cryptic statement she shot off away from him, away from the entire party, in fact, moving quickly out of sight and around a bend in the river.
“I think, Dare, that you have lost your touch with the ladies.”
Terrance looked over to see Stu reaching down to help him up.
“Yes.” He took his friend’s hand and steadied himself on the ice. “It is confounding. I finally try to understand one of them, and I am now more confused than ever.”
Stu just shrugged. “Still, Dare, I must say that you might be right about that chit.” His friend squinted at the spot they had last seen Lady Caroline. “She may not be all that bland. She looked quite fetching today, actually.”
Terrance turned a glare on Stu. The man put his hands up as if to ward off an attack. “Not that I noticed.”
They both looked again at the bend in the river.
“I am going to marry her,” Terrance said.
“Right.” Stu nodded. “I thought so. Could tell, actually, as you were skating.”
“But she is very angry with me.” Terrance looked back at his friend again, who stood tapping his right forefinger against his bottom lip. “I don’t know why, exactly.” Terrance cocked his head. “Do you think you might?”
Stu tapped some more. “I just might.”
“Yes, I thought so. Could tell, actually, when you started tapping.”
Stu curled his right hand into a fist and folded his arms in front of himself. “That gets me in trouble at the gaming tables as well.”
“Yes, I know.” Terrance nodded. “I used to beat you often.”
“Right, right.”
“So.”
“It is cold today, isn’t it? Coldest winter I’ve ever known, I think.”
Terrance did not say a thing.
“I think I was rather abrupt with them…no, I know I was very abrupt with them, Lady Caroline and her mother, that is, when I was terribly worried that you would die.”
Terrance arched one brow.
“I hate it when you do that.”
Terrance did not move.
“Okay, then, I knew you were not going to die, of course. You came through well enough in the hospital in France. But you looked awful, really, your head all bandaged up. And the doctors all said that you would never speak again, and probably have a damaged intelligence even if you did.”
Stu grinned at him, but Terrance did not even crack a smile.
“Yes, well, the intelligence is still there, isn’t it?” Stu said morosely.
“I’d say.”
“But, anyway, I had to bring you home, and I didn’t want to take you to London. So I wrote a letter to Lady Darington and told her she had to leave Ivy Park.”
Terrance spent a short moment trying to remember the exact word he needed to say. “Leave? How quickly?” Terrance asked finally, a very bad taste in his mouth.
Stu started to tap his lip again. “Goodness, it has been nearly, what, three years, Dare. I can’t really remem…”
“Stu?”
“Two days, yes that was it. I gave them two days.” Stu shuffled closer. “But, Dare, I was at my wits’ end. I mean, I didn’t want anyone to know about your injury. I wasn’t sure what you would want. Or if you’d ever want anything again. I was just trying to do the best I could under the circumstances.”
Terrance sighed heavily, and then he closed his eyes. “Shh,” he said, finally.
Stu stuttered to a halt.
“You are a loyal friend, Stu.”
Stu bowed his head, scuffing the ice with the toe of his skate. Which made him fall. But he scrambled up quickly.
“You did me a…” Terrance knew the word in his head, but he had to work to make his mouth say it. “Justice,” Terrance finally got out. He glanced over the skating party and shook his head on a sigh. “They would have ripped me to shreds.”
“Yes, now they all just think you’re a pompous ass.”
Terrance frowned fiercely.
“Which is good!”
Terrance realized that his friend was right, and his frown eased. And then he chuckled softly. “Yes. They don’t think I am…” The word would not come.
“Damaged?” Stu supplied helpfully.
“Yes.”
With a grin, Stu slapped Terrance on the back, and fell again.
Terrance helped Stu to his feet. “Still, I have to woo. But I never say what is right.” Terrance pushed against his brow with his forefinger. “This courting business produces horrendous headaches.”
“Ha! That has nothing to do with the bullet in your head, old boy. It has to do with women. They speak some other language none of us can comprehend. Communicating with females isn’t easy for even the best of us.”
Terrance glanced over at his friend. “You being ‘the best of us’?”
Stu frowned. “Well…I, er…”
“Who can’t speak?” Terrance teased.
“Right then, I’ll race you to the pier, that’ll put you in your place, all right.”
“No, the ice is too thin at the pier.”
Stu rounded his mouth as if dramatically surprised. “Long sentence there, man.”
Oh yes, Stu was good at tit for tat. He was also wonderful to tease. Terrance loved that about his friend. He needed it desperately. “Around Lady Witherspoon and back. On your count.”
“Go,” Stu said without counting, and they were off.
Chapter 5
It was clear to all onlookers that Lady Witherspoon was not at all amused when Mr. Ronald Stuart, while racing upon the ice against Lord Darington, crashed into her and knocked her into a most awkward prone position, causing her skirts to rise in a most indelicate manner.
Copious attempted apologies, tendered by both Mr. Stuart and Lord Darington, were, by all counts, rebuffed.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 4 FEBRUARY 1814
“Oh Duchess,” Linney mo
aned. “I think I am going to die.”
Duchess just burrowed closer to her under the covers.
Linney was sick, very sick. She was hot and achy. Of course, it was entirely her fault. It was only a matter of time, after all, if one started running out her very own front door without her coat on and taking off from skating parties with nowhere to go, and no escort to take one home.
“Linney, dear!”
Linney squeezed her eyes shut against her mother’s strident tone.
“Oh, leave me alone,” she muttered into the down of her blanket.
The door opened. “Linney, Lord Pellering is here. You must get up.”
“I don’t feel well, Mother.”
“Be that as it may, Lord Pellering is here!”
Save me from Lord Pellering. This thought popped into Linney’s head, and she really did want to run away suddenly. She could not possibly marry someone who made her so completely miserable, could she?
And it was not fair at all to Lord Pellering that he made her miserable. He was quite an agreeable man, really. But, well, he had no hair.
And he liked his hounds altogether too much. That just could not be right.
Oh Lord, she was just as pompous and horrible as Lord Darington to think such awful thoughts.
Lord Darington. A jumble of emotions made it feel like her skin was hot and cold at the same time. No, her skin was hot and cold at the same time. She was sick, for the love of pete.
Now she really did want to run away.
Her mother barged into her room and stood over her bed. “He is going to ask for your hand, Linney. I’m just too thrilled. I rather thought you would never make a match.”
“Thank you so much, mother.”
“Well, you are to be six and twenty, after all, Linney. When I was your age, I was married already with a child.”
With a long sigh, Linney peeked out from beneath her covers. “I am truly ill, Mother. Please tell Lord Pellering that I shall see him at another time.”
“I shall do no such thing.” Georgiana stripped Linney’s beloved down-filled coverlet from the bed.