by Lucy Adams
Lord Millerton grinned. “He did an admirable attempt at pretending he did not know the lady,” he said, as Bridgette nodded her agreement. “But I am certain that he does, in fact, know of her.”
Lady Madeline chewed her lip for a moment. “Now, what is it that we are to do next?” she said, looking from Bridgette to Lord Millerton. “Lord Chesterfield has told me the name of one of his ships, if that is of any use?”
“Oh?” Bridgette was immediately interested. “What is it?”
“‘The Rose’,” Lady Madeline said, with a wave of her hand, her features twisting. “Not at all romantic, which was what I am certain he was implying.”
Lord Millerton sucked in a breath at this, making Bridgette and Lady Madeline look towards him at once.
“‘The Rose’?” he repeated, as Lady Madeline nodded slowly, her eyes wide and lit with confusion. “I am sure that is the name of the ship that Madame Bereford spoke to myself and Lord Hearst about when we first visited her.” He shook his head, his fingers bridged as he settled his elbows on his knees, his eyes jumping from one place to the next as he considered what had been revealed. “She did not mean for us to remember it, of course, for it was merely a tiny remark that was meant to unsettle us, but now I am quite convinced that Lord Chesterfield is in business, or connected in some way, with Madame Bereford.”
Bridgette’s heart quickened, her excitement growing. “Then what are we to do?” she asked, as Lady Madeline’s hand stilled on the spoon that she had been stirring her tea with. “Are we to bring that information to him? Tell him what we know?”
Lord Millerton shook his head. “Certainly, it is time to bring this all to a conclusion,” he said, after a moment or two. “Our aim is to ensure that Lord Chesterfield tells us everything without any further prevarication.”
Bridgette’s hands tightened together as she saw a light appear in Lord Millerton’s eyes. “What do you intend to do?” she asked, quietly. “What can we do to ensure that we know everything?”
Lord Millerton paused for a few moments longer, before a tiny smile caught the corner of his mouth. “We are to play a trick on Lord Chesterfield,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. “If we have Miss Sarah here, then can we not use her to our advantage?” His voice began to rise, his hands gesturing wildly as he became more and more animated. “She will be able to tell us how Madame Bereford conveys messages to those that she wishes to call upon her, for whatever reason.”
“But what if she has a special seal?” Bridgette interrupted, frowning. “What if —”
“We shall make it an urgent note,” Lord Millerton said, quickly, the gleam in his eye growing. “So that he will not have time to reply to her, will not have time to even question what she says. And when he appears, we will be there, ready to find out everything.” He looked at her again. “Everything,” he said again, all the more firmly. “That includes finding out the truth about your husband, about Lord Hazelton’s death and about Lord Chesterfield’s ships.”
A swell of hope crashed over her as she held his gaze, realizing that, very soon, the whole matter would be at an end. She would be freed of it all, returned back to the lady and the situation that she had once been.
But I do not want to be as I was, she thought to herself, quietly. I want Lord Millerton to be in my life, in my every single day.
And, from the look in his eyes, Bridgette was quite certain that there was a very good chance of what she wished for soon coming to pass.
“I will go and speak to Miss Sarah at once,” she said, rising to her feet. “Lady Madeline, please, continue to take tea for as long as you wish.”
Lord Millerton got up from his chair. “I will need to go and speak to the League, to ensure that everyone knows what we are to do next,” he said, a flicker of excitement in his expression. “I would hope that, come the morrow, we will have the note ready to be delivered to Lord Chesterfield.”
Bridgette threw out a hand, stopping dead in her tracks as an idea hit her square between the eyes.
“Wait!”
The room fell silent, with both Lord Millerton and Lady Madeline staring at her with matching expressions of astonishment.
“His ball,” Bridgette whispered, suddenly recalling that not only was Lord Chesterfield throwing a ball some two days away, it was a ball that she was invited to. “Are you to attend, Lord Millerton?” She watched his eyes widen as he realized what she meant, seeing the same excitement in his eyes as was in her heart.
“Yes, I am,” he answered, as Lady Madeline let out a squeak, her hands pressed tightly together. “You think we should have the message delivered to him then?”
Bridgette nodded slowly. “He will see us all present there and —”
“Therefore will not have any cause to suspect anything untoward from any of us when the note is delivered!” Lady Madeline exclaimed, getting to her feet quickly. “And all we shall have to do, thereafter, is to arrive at Madame Bereford’s establishment shortly after!”
Lord Millerton nodded fervently. “And I shall have some gentlemen from the League waiting outside Madam Bereford’s to ensure that neither Lord Chesterfield nor the Madame can escape.”
“Just ensure it is not Lord Pilkington,” Bridgette said, with a wry smile. “I am sure he has got far too many painful memories of the last time he stood outside a building!”
Lord Millerton laughed, reached out and pulled her close. “Wonderful, Lady Callander!” he exclaimed, his arms tight about her waist. “You are quite wonderful.” His lips grazed her forehead as he reluctantly let her go, his hands drifting away from her. “Then we have two days to ensure everything is prepared.”
“Two days,” Bridgette replied, aware of the warmth that whispered through her from his touch. “And then let us pray this will all be over.”
Chapter Twelve
“Might I say that you look quite beautiful, Lady Callander.”
Sebastian smiled at how quickly she reacted to his words, noting the blush to her cheeks, the demure way her eyes dropped to the floor. “I mean every word, Lady Callander, I assure you.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks colored a little more but when she raised her eyes to his, they were filled with a deep tenderness that he felt push itself directly into his heart.
“You look very handsome indeed,” she told him, as he smiled at her. “I do hope you intend to sign my dance card?”
He held out his hand at once. “I would like to do so very much,” he told her, relieved that the waltz was still, as yet, untaken. “The waltz, Lady Callander?”
She nodded eagerly, and he wrote his name there quickly, as though someone might snatch it from his hand in a moment.
“And the quadrille,” he murmured, writing his name for a second time and wishing that he could take each and every free dance remaining, so that Lady Callander would not dance with another gentleman. “If there is time remaining for that.”
He looked up to see her eyes flare, only for her tiny, flickering smile to fade away, her gaze moving to something just behind him.
“Lady Callander!”
Sebastian froze, the sound of Lord Chesterfield’s overly cheerful voice sending a shudder through him. A shudder that had never once been there before he had begun to suspect that his acquaintance was involved in something untoward.
“Lord Chesterfield,” Lady Callander murmured, bobbing a quick curtsy. “Your ball is wonderful, if I might say so.”
Sebastian turned and smiled at Lord Chesterfield, forcing himself to be as relaxed and as assured as usual. “It is,” he agreed, as Lord Chesterfield grinned, his eyes dancing. “A most remarkable occasion, indeed.”
“I am delighted to hear you say so,” Lord Chesterfield replied, still smiling. “I am also thrilled that Lady Madeline is in attendance with you, Lady Callander!”
Sebastian tensed as Lady Callander looked back at Lord Chesterfield, her smile not even flickering. “But of course,” she cooed, sweetly. “Lady Madeline’s father
is taken unwell and I knew just how much she wished to be present this evening. I was glad to have her join me.”
Lord Chesterfield chuckled, reaching for Lady Callander’s wrist without even asking if he might peruse her dance card. Sebastian forced himself to remain calm despite the fact that he wanted nothing other than to shove Lord Chesterfield’s hand away from Lady Callander. He could tell by the shock on Lady Callander’s face that she was horrified at what Lord Chesterfield had done. A gentleman did not seize a lady’s hand and lift it in order to steal her dance card without even so much as a by-your-leave! And yet that was precisely what Lord Chesterfield had done, treating Lady Callander with such disrespect that it sent a flurry of anger swirling through Sebastian’s veins.
“The country dance and the cotillion,” he said, with a broad smile, finally releasing Lady Callander’s hand. “And look, now, the country dance is almost at hand!”
“I thank you,” Lady Callander said, with what Sebastian knew was a forced smile. “Two dances is very kind of you, Lord Chesterfield.”
He laughed, but it did not reach his eyes. Instead, Sebastian was quite certain there was something of a darkness within his gaze. He wanted to step in, to refuse Lord Chesterfield to take Lady Callander out to the dance floor but forced his lips to remain tightly closed, his eyes fixed to Lady Callander instead.
She was smiling gently at Lord Chesterfield, not even a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.
“I hope you have secured dances from Lady Madeline,” she said, a slight hint of teasing in her voice. “I should not like to take from her what should, I think, be hers first!”
Lord Chesterfield chuckled, the sound low in his throat. “She was the very first lady I spoke to,” he assured her, a slight dip of his head accompanying his words. “And yes, I have made quite certain that I have the dances I wish from her, although I must admit I wanted eagerly to take all of them for myself.”
Lady Callander smiled, whilst Sebastian felt a small unsettling kick in the pit of his stomach that both he and Lord Chesterfield evidently had the very same sentiment.
“Ah!” Lord Chesterfield exclaimed, without so much as glancing at Sebastian, “the country dance is upon us, Lady Callander! Shall we go?”
Sebastian gave Lady Callander a smile, inclining his head towards her. “I look forward to our dance, Lady Callander,” he said, hoping that she took some encouragement from his smile.
“I will make sure to return her to you,” Lord Chesterfield laughed, leading Lady Callander away before she could even say a word in reply.
For the entirety of Lord Chesterfield and Lady Callander’s dance, Sebastian felt as though he were being forced to walk over hot coals. He was almost in pain, his heart thumping furiously, sweat trickling down his back, his hands clenching and unclenching as he watched them.
Finally, the music came to an end and Sebastian forced himself to turn away from the dance floor, reaching for a glass of champagne so that Lord Chesterfield would not see him watching and waiting for the return of Lady Callander. Something twisted deep in his gut, something uncomfortable and unsettling. A warning, mayhap? Sweat broke out on Sebastian’s brow as he turned back towards the dance floor, instantly realizing that Lord Chesterfield had not, in fact, brought Lady Callander back to him, where he had intended to go, but rather was now walking with her away from him, towards the other end of the room.
“Lord Millerton?”
He whirled around, panic rising in his throat as he saw Lady Madeline staring at him, her eyes holding nothing but confusion.
“You — you appear distressed,” she said, frowning. “I came to inform you that Lord Lexington has taken his leave and that the note will be delivered to Lord Chesterfield within the hour.”
Sebastian blinked furiously, his heart still in a panicked rhythm. “Lord Chesterfield has taken Lady Callander to the dance floor but has not returned her to me as he said,” he blurted out, his words falling over each other in a rush to leave his mouth. “There is something about his manner tonight that troubles me.”
Lady Madeline’s eyes flared with worry. “I — I shall go to her, of course,” she said, quickly, her voice rising with anxiety. “Where did he go?”
Sebastian gestured to where she had gone, feeling utterly useless as he watched Lady Madeline hurry across the dance floor, her beautiful silver gown making it appear as though she was floating across the floor. Everything in him wanted to charge after her, to make certain that Lady Callander was quite safe, but instead he forced himself to remain precisely where he was, drinking champagne that he did not even taste.
Finally, much to his relief, Lady Madeline and Lady Callander came back across the floor, arm in arm. Lady Madeline said something and Lady Callander laughed, her eyes bright. They did not come directly towards him but rather veered to the left, pushing forward through the crowd until he could not see them any longer.
His heart still hammering, Sebastian went in search of them at once, moving quickly without any regard for those around him. His eyes tore through the guests, looking for the silver and light green gown that brought such a beauty to Lady Callander’s eyes.
Finally, he found them.
“Lady Callander!” he exclaimed, much too loudly, given that everyone near to him turned their heads to see how he chased after the ladies. A little embarrassed, Sebastian quickly added, “It is to be our dance!”
Lady Callander, hearing him, turned her head and smiled brightly, although he noted at once the way that a slight tremor caught the corner of her mouth. “Is it that time already, Lord Millerton?” she asked, teasingly, as he drew near. “Let me just check my dance card.”
He caught her hand, holding it tightly, his eyes searching her face as she slowly lifted her head, her lips no longer curved into a gentle smile but rather tight and angry.
“What happened?” he asked in a low voice as Lady Madeline looked on. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing,” Lady Callander replied, quietly. “He did not do anything to me, Lord Millerton.” She glanced towards Lady Madeline. “Instead, he wanted to make it quite clear that if I encouraged Lady Madeline away from him in any way, then he would do all he could to make certain that I was no longer welcome in society.”
Sebastian’s mouth dropped open.
“He was quite changed,” Lady Callander continued, softly, although there was a hint of steel in her gaze. “Furious, I believe.”
Lady Madeline shook her head. “Does he not expect me to know of what he has done, then?” she asked, angrily. “Does he expect you to remain silent about it?”
Lady Callander nodded. “Yes, I believe he does,” she said, quietly. “I will not pretend that I was not rather intimidated when he leaned over me in such a fashion and practically demanded that I come with him for a few moments, but I knew I dared not refuse.”
“I was worried when I saw him lead you away,” Sebastian told her as he gently placed his hand on hers. “Lady Madeline found you, at least.”
“I did,” Lady Madeline answered, firmly, her eyes flashing with rage. “He was leaning over Lady Callander, speaking to her in low tones and with one finger shaking in her face.” Her lips twisted and she tossed her head. “I made pleasantries, of course, stating how lovely it had been to watch them dance and telling Lord Chesterfield that I looked forward to dancing with him also.” She let out a mirthless laugh. “Lord Chesterfield’s manner changed in an instant when he thought that I had overheard something of what he had been saying.”
“I am just very relieved indeed that you managed to secure Lady Callander,” Sebastian said, earnestly. “And that you yourself are quite all right, Lady Callander.”
She smiled at him then, her eyes gentle. “Your concern is appreciated, Lord Millerton, but I was not in any real danger. He merely wanted to shout at me and threaten me harshly, but I do not think he would have done anything untoward. His main concern is Lady Madeline. He does not want her to think ill of him and, from what I u
nderstand, fully intends to court, propose to and marry you, Lady Madeline.” Her gaze shifted to her friend. “I will tell you now that I do not believe it comes from a place of affection.”
Lady Madeline did not sigh nor look troubled in any way. Rather, she simply shrugged, her mouth a thin line. “I expect he wants my dowry for his own purposes,” she said, without emotion. “Purposes that we shall soon discover, I am sure.” Her eyes snagged on someone over Sebastian’s shoulder. “Look.”
Sebastian turned his head to see a footman hurrying across the dance floor towards Lord Chesterfield, who was leading another young lady out to dance. He did not allow himself to continue watching, knowing that even a small glance in Sebastian’s direction might warn Lord Chesterfield that something was wrong.
“I am not certain whether or not this is our dance, Lady Callander,” he said, “but might you step out with me regardless?” He held out one hand to her and with a smile, Lady Callander placed her own in his.
“I would like that very much,” she told him, leaving Lady Madeline watching them both — and Lord Chesterfield also — from the edge of the ballroom.
“He has glanced at us both,” Lady Callander murmured, as she curtsied, “but is reading the note repeatedly. Oh!” She stepped forward into the beginnings of the dance, her hand pressed to his as they moved around in a circle.
“He is dancing,” Sebastian muttered, seeing the gentleman as they circled the other way. “Perhaps he is not about to —”
“Let us simply enjoy the dance,” Lady Callander replied, looking up into his face as they stepped forward and then back again. “And thereafter, see what Lord Chesterfield does.”
Sebastian nodded, smiling calmly at her as they continued the dance, finding himself relaxing into it as he shared it with Lady Callander. He had not often danced with her and found himself almost desperate to take her into his arms. Finally, as the last part of the dance came to fruition, he was able to place one hand about her waist, the other holding her hand tightly, swinging her about as the music swirled around them, making him smile with delight.