What would Christian say? she wondered. He was as concerned for her reputation as her own mother seemed to be, she thought with frustration, but she would simply have to explain to him why it was imperative that they attend this party. Reputation or no reputation, she had to figure out who killed Mr. Tinker if Linton were ever to be free of the veil of suspicion.
And he had agreed to assist her in her investigations. If he balked then she’d simply have to remind him that he’d given her his word.
Hurrying out to her waiting carriage, Maddie made her way home and began planning her attire for the next evening.
* * *
The next evening found Christian waiting impatiently in an unmarked, closed carriage for Maddie to approach. For discretion’s sake, he’d asked the coachman to wait in the mews behind Essex House, so that Maddie would not be seen from the square.
She’d sent round a note yesterday afternoon informing him that they’d be attending a card party at Lady Emily’s house. And though he’d wanted to send back a note inquiring whether she was possessed of all her faculties, he had instead sent back a hastily scrawled assent. Maddie was strong-willed enough to attend with or without him, and knowing just who Lady Emily counted among her close personal friends, he would prefer to take her there himself. He knew that he was willing to do the right thing by her should he compromise her reputation. He couldn’t say that same for the Duke of Endover, Lord Phillip Bynes or Lord Tretham. Not to mention Colonel Sebastian Grant, whom he knew from his days in the army and disliked. Strenuously.
Thus it was that he welcomed Lady Madeline, wearing yet another gown that set his teeth on edge—this time in a deep gold color that brought out the highlights in her hair and offered up her bosom like the main course at a banquet—into the dark carriage.
“You’re looking…” He searched for the right word to describe the gown. “Fetching” sounded too wholesome. “Ravishing” was too … something else. Delectable? True, but entirely inappropriate. “… well,” he finished lamely.
As if she had heard his mental discussion with himself, Maddie gave a laugh. “I must admit that it does make me feel quite scandalous,” she said. “It’s as if the gown affects my whole personality. Which is silly, I suppose, since I am still the same old Maddie. But it does give one a certain—”
“Yes, rather,” he broke in before she could finish the thought. He was having a hard enough time keeping his hands to himself. Hearing her describe how the silk felt against her skin would send him over the edge.
Changing the subject to a safer topic, he said, “What do you know about this party?”
“Very little,” she admitted, not commenting on the shift in topic. “Lady Emily didn’t tell me who would be in attendance. Just that it would be a group of friends. I don’t think it would be at all surprising should we find her usual crowd there.”
“The other entertainments offered tonight,” he said, watching the way the moonlight illuminated her face, “don’t seem to be of the sort that would draw attention from her friends. Aside from Juliet and Deveril’s musicale, there’s the theater.”
“Yes,” Maddie agreed. “Of course, those are the respectable entertainments you mention. Lord knows what sort of other vices are available throughout London.”
Mind on the mission, Christian reminded himself, though all sorts of vices he’d like to engage in with Maddie raced through his mind. “Lord knows,” he echoed, giving himself a mental shake.
“Do your cousins know about this plan of yours?” he asked, suddenly wondering if Cecily and Juliet had informed their husbands and whether he should expect a request for pistols at dawn sometime in the near future.
He wasn’t sure how he knew it, given the dimness of the carriage as it rolled through the streets of London, but he sensed she was blushing. “They know,” Maddie told him after a moment. “At least, Juliet and Cecily both know that I plan to prove that Linton was not involved in Tinker’s stabbing. They do not know that you have agreed to help me.”
Christian wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
“Why not?” he asked.
“I do not want to worry them,” she said simply. “Plus I know that they would want to help, and I don’t want them to risk their own reputations because of something my brother did. He is my brother, and my responsibility.”
He didn’t point out the unconventional nature of her declaration. In polite society it would be the other way around, with her brother claiming Maddie as his responsibility. It did her credit that she felt so protective of him, but he found himself once again feeling no small amount of anger on her behalf. She should not be burdened with this matter. It should be handled by her father, or both her parents.
But Maddie had always been unconventional, and a bit of a mother hen for those she loved. It was one of the qualities that made her so … he deliberately made a mental diversion around the word “lovable” and chose “appealing” instead.
“So,” he said aloud, “I will not find myself flayed alive by either of them should something untoward happen.” He wished he could say the same of their spouses, but thinking back to the circumstances of their own marriages, Christian felt somewhat safe from persecution on that score as well.
“Nothing is going to happen,” she chided. “We are simply looking into the matter of Mr. Tinker’s murder.”
“Yes,” he agreed ironically, “nothing ever happens in the pursuit of murderers. ’Tis the safest pastime imaginable.”
“Do not be glib, my lord,” she chided. “I am not a simpleton. I realize there are certain dangers. Besides, I thought that was the reason I brought you along. For protection.”
“Yes, of course that’s why you brought me along,” he muttered. “For protection.”
They fell into an uncomfortable silence. Despite his promise to her that he would come along on this visit tonight, he couldn’t help but feel as if he were leading a lamb into the lion’s den. He did not know how much Maddie knew about the sorts of things Lady Emily and her friends—Lord Linton included—got up to, but he had a feeling she’d be leaving tonight’s entertainment with a bit less innocence than when she entered. Which made him angry on some level.
Thinking to hint that perhaps she didn’t need to protect her brother all on her own, he said, “I spoke with your father yesterday.”
He watched her mouth fall open in surprise and, too late, realized the implication of what he’d just said.
“You did?” she asked in a high-pitched voice. “Wh … why would you do that?”
“He spoke with me, rather,” Christian said hastily, feeling like a thousand fools. “He approached me in the park to ask what might be done to help your brother.”
“Oh.” The relief she infused into that one word was hardly flattering, but Christian could not blame her. It was hardly every young lady’s dream to be proposed to in an unmarked carriage on the way to a scandalous card party. Or, he rather thought it wasn’t Maddie’s. Even so, he felt a pang of disappointment at her response.
Trying to move the conversation forward, he said, “I think you might have a bit more faith in his determination to protect your brother’s reputation. In fact, I think if you were to abandon your plan, you might trust in your father to see to it that your brother is cleared in the matter.”
But that was obviously the wrong thing to say. “I’m afraid you don’t know my father as well as I do, my lord,” she said. He did not like being “my lorded” by her. “He disapproves of Linton’s every action. I know he might wish to see to it that my brother escapes the ultimate punishment for his association with Mr. Tinker, but he believes that Linton needs a dose of reality. What better way to give it to him than to allow him to be frightened into toeing the straight-and-narrow path?”
Christian didn’t bother arguing. He’d only spoken to Lord Essex about the matter once. Doubtless Maddie knew her parents better than he did. Even so, he believed her father was not so willing to let h
er brother linger under the cloud of suspicion as she thought.
“He does control the purse strings,” Christian said. “That might prove to be incentive enough for your brother to curb his habits.”
“It hasn’t thus far,” she said with a weariness that made him wish to gather her close and comfort her. She shouldn’t burden herself with this. “Linton had a small inheritance from our grandmother and he went through it rather quickly. He needs his allowance to make ends meet. I am actually quite surprised he is not deeper in debt than he is already considering his fondness for gambling,” she admitted, “but I suppose he wins more than he loses.”
Their conversation was aborted when the carriage came to an abrupt stop.
A sharp rap on the door, doubtless the footman’s attempt at discretion, alerted them that they’d reached their destination.
“Into the breach,” he said to Maddie, who suddenly looked very young and very vulnerable in the half-light of the carriage. Resisting the urge to kiss her on the forehead, Christian instead offered her his hand, and as the door opened and the footman lowered the step, he handed her out.
Ten
Maddie was grateful for the strength of Christian’s arm as he led her into Lady Emily’s drawing room. She counted seven couples seated around the room, some at card tables, and others lounging on chairs and sofas and divans.
Their hostess floated forward, her gown a deep crimson confection that brought out the roses in her cheeks and looked extraordinarily well with her dark hair.
“Lady Madeline, Lord Gresham, what a pleasure to see you,” Lady Emily said, offering her hands to Maddie, and a short curtsy, which Maddie couldn’t help but see showed her bosom to perfection. A jolt of jealousy ran through her as she watched Christian notice. Of course it wasn’t as if he could help it, given that there was hardly anywhere else for the poor man to look.
“When Lady Madeline told me she’d be bringing an escort, I had no notion it would be you, Lord Gresham,” the widow said with a half smile. “I’ve been trying to persuade you to attend one of my little social evenings for months now but to no avail.” She turned to Maddie. “You must tell me your secret, Lady Madeline.”
How different this Lady Emily was from the one she’d encountered in Felsham’s, Maddie thought. Gone was the intelligent lady who loved to read, and in her place was this flirtatious siren. She’d known the other woman had a reputation for seductiveness, of course, but she hadn’t counted on her practicing her charms on Christian.
Hands off, she thought as she smiled in what she hoped was a mysterious manner. “I don’t think there is any great trick. If you wish to know the truth, we are often at loggerheads with one another. Perhaps you are simply too agreeable.”
Something like respect flashed in the other woman’s eyes before she nodded. “Yes, I might have guessed Lord Gresham is keen on verbal and other sorts of sparring.”
Before Maddie could retort, Christian broke in. “We don’t wish to keep you from your guests, Lady Emily,” he said briskly, holding Maddie’s arm in a firm grip. She was annoyed at his interference, though she supposed it would not do to tear out her hostess’s hair before the party even began.
With a slight nod, as if she were ceding the point to Christian, Lady Emily went on. “I think the card tables are all filled up, so you’d be best with one of the parlor games. I believe the group with Lords Tretham and Bynes is about to begin a round of secretary.” She gestured to a table in the corner where a mixed group of ladies and gentlemen talked. Waving in the other direction, she went on. “And Endover’s is playing charades. I’ll leave the choice between the two up to you.”
With a curtsy, she left them alone to make their own decision. Maddie suddenly felt naked as the other partygoers watched them without bothering to hide their interest. She supposed it was unusual for new people to add to their numbers.
“Let’s get started,” Christian said in a low tone beside her. She was glad suddenly that she hadn’t tried to attend this party alone. Gratefully, she clung to his arm, drawing strength from his presence.
“Which do you prefer?” she asked, looking from Tretham’s group to Endover’s.
As an aspiring author—though it felt like ages since she’d concentrated on her novel—she was quite good at wordplay so she would feel confident enough with the group playing secretary, a parlor game that involved making up stories. And Tretham had been there on the night of Tinker’s murder. The Duke of Endover, however, was known to be a bit of a gossip, so he might be more forthcoming with details about Tinker’s interaction with the rest of the group.
“Secretary,” Christian said firmly. “It is unlikely that there will be any time for conversation during a game of charades.”
Maddie couldn’t argue with that logic, though she hoped that there might be time to speak to all of the assembled group before the evening ended.
“Secretary it is,” she said, allowing him to lead her to Lord Tretham’s group.
“I must warn you,” she added, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, “that I play to win.”
Patting her hand, Christian smiled. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less.”
* * *
“Before we begin, I shall go over the rules,” Lord Bynes said to the partygoers assembled round the table.
Christian had taken the seat to Madeline’s left, and she was flanked on the other side by Lady Mary Stokely, who was as silly a woman as ever he’d met. Still, he was grateful that Tretham was seated on the opposite side of the table from her at least. He was far too handsome for Christian’s comfort, and his flirtatious manner with Maddie had begun to grate on his nerves.
“I shall give you each a pencil and a piece of paper,” Bynes said, handing the sheaf of pages to Mrs. Lawless on his right. “You are each to write your name at the top of the page, and then fold it in half and place it within the hat, like so.” He demonstrated, and placed his paper within a battered top hat that sat in the middle of the table. If the fellow meant to explain every last detail of play it would take an hour for the instructions at least, Christian thought impatiently.
“Once everyone has placed his page into the hat, we will pass it round the circle and each person will choose a page. It goes without saying that if you choose your own, you should put it back and withdraw another.”
When everyone had received a pencil and written his or her name on the sheet, they set about folding them, and placing them into the hat.
Christian marveled at the ability of some of his fellow guests to write at all, much less their full names, given the amount of brandy they had already consumed. But he supposed writing while intoxicated was a skill needed for signing gambling vowels, among other things. Folding his own page, he dropped it into the hat, hoping that he was the only one who could feel the excitement emanating from Maddie. She’d been the first to put her own page in and now tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the game to advance.
“Now,” Bynes said, obviously taking his duties as game master much more seriously than his companions, who were giggling and in general not paying the man much heed. When they did not seem willing to stop their side conversations at his announcement, he cleared his throat and rapped upon the table. “Ladies and gentlemen, please pay attention.”
“We’re not in school, old chap,” Tretham complained, “you needn’t behave like a bloody prefect.”
Christian inwardly winced at the curse, but none of the ladies—Maddie included—seemed to be offended.
“I thought he preferred the role of naughty schoolboy,” said Mrs. Lawless, giggling, “caning and all that.” She was a blowsy widow whose gown left very little to the imagination. And she had clearly had far too much champagne.
Christian saw Maddie redden at the loose talk, and cursed himself for agreeing to bring her here. She had no business here with this lot.
“I say, Mrs. Lawless,” he said in an easygoing tone his soldiers would have known preceded a set
-down. Reining in his temper, however, he let that be his only comment. It would not do to alienate the very people they hoped to get information from.
He had assistance, however, from an unforeseen ally.
“Indeed,” Tretham said to the widow with a raised brow. “We mustn’t let Lady Madeline think that we’re savages. Young unmarried lady and whatnot.”
Not taking offense, Mrs. Lawless merely giggled again, reinforcing Christian’s assessment of her sobriety. Or lack thereof.
“As I was saying,” Bynes continued, his annoyance at the interruption making him grow peevish. “Everyone should take a paper from the hat, and write his opinion of the person whose name is listed at the top of the page.”
He paused for dramatic effect.
“You may begin … now.”
If Bynes were hoping for a fevered rush of hands to draw out their pages, however, he was doomed to disappointment. The hat was passed from person to person in a very civilized manner, until everyone had withdrawn a name. And then silence reigned as they set about writing.
Christian opened his page and was annoyed to see Mrs. Suzanne Newsom’s name. He only knew her slightly and that was as a social acquaintance and not a friend. He could hardly say what he really thought, that she was pretty enough but had more hair than wit. Nor could he mention her tendency to carry on rather indiscreet flirtations with younger men. Frowning, he used the pencil to scratch the words “excellent dancer” beneath her name. Which was true enough.
He folded his paper back again and tossed it into the hat, his arm brushing Maddie’s as she put her own paper in.
The zing of sensation between them almost made him jerk his hand away. He stopped himself from hiding his reaction to the rest of the room, however. He had no problem with the other men in the room assuming there was something between them. Indeed it would be better for Maddie if they thought she was under his protection. Not as his mistress, which would put her beyond the pale, even with this set. But his response would hardly do that. He simply did not wish them to think she was without protection. Especially now that Linton was from town.
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