A slight titter went through the group. Cecelia opened her mouth to say something, but Lady Williams chose that moment to break in. Just as well, Priscilla thought, given the look on Cecelia’s face.
“Your nephew is such a gentleman, Lady Fitzberry,” Lady Williams folded her hands in her lap and smiled prettily. “His offer to escort me home the other evening when I was virtually stranded was very chivalrous. I would have been in dire straits had he not done so.”
Priscilla thought she heard Cecelia smother a snort but she was too annoyed by Lady Williams comment to pay much attention. He took her home? How had that come about? And why hadn’t he mentioned it? Good Lord. She was jealous!
The other ladies were fascinated by Lady Williams’ remark. “Oh dear,” Mrs. Gibbons exclaimed. “Was there a mishap with your carriage? These modern conveyances can be so unreliable.” She shook her head. “Of course, I don’t really understand such things. Mr. Gibbons pats me on the cheek and tells me so all the time and as it seems to make him feel better, I don’t argue with him. Men can be so silly at times. But I digress. Why were you stranded, my lady?”
“It was rather difficult.” Lady Williams crinkled her brow and chewed on her lower lip as if trying to find the right words. “I’m afraid my escort for the evening became unpleasant. I’d rather not go into details but I felt it in my best interest not to allow him to see me home from Lady Almont’s ball.”
“But wasn’t Lord Bennett your escort that evening?” Lady Brenton asked with a shocked look on her face. “Heavens, I can’t imagine him being anything other than a perfect gentleman.”
Lady Williams looked down at her lap. Her voice quivered slightly. “As I said, it was difficult. I’d really rather not discuss it.”
A restlessness rippled through the group as they considered this. The idea that someone of Lord Bennett’s position and reputation had done something distasteful enough to upset Lady Williams’ was a morsel of gossip to be savored, even if one didn’t have all the facts.
“Please don’t be overly concerned on my behalf. The incident is over and done with.” She smiled bravely. “Lord Stratton was so gracious to intercede on my behalf. Is he perchance home today? Or has our little gathering sent him to his club? I know how men can be.”
“He’s in his office,” Cecelia answered. “With Papa away, he has to spend most of his days on estate matters. Between that and escorting me to various social affairs, he barely has a moment to spare.”
“He must have some free time.” Lady Murray turned a knowing look on Priscilla. “It’s my understanding that several of his afternoons have been spent in the company of a certain lovely young lady.”
Mirabella’s face suddenly lit up as if she had realized something wondrous for the first time. “I can well understand why, as Miss Hawthorn is such a charming girl. And Lord Stratton is terribly handsome, don’t you think? Of course all my nieces and nephews are attractive.” She beamed at Priscilla. “The two of you do look so well together.”
Priscilla flushed as Olivia patted her hand. All eyes were on her and she knew she had to say something. She looked at the expectant faces and said in a light tone, “Lord Stratton and I are friends, but I assure you that there is nothing more to it than that.”
There were several faint sounds of disappointment.
“The late Lord Fitzberry and I were friends before our marriage,” Mirabella said. “One never knows where a friendship will lead.”
Priscilla smiled at her. “I suppose, but at this time, we are simply friends.”
After several attempts, Olivia managed to steer the conversation to less personal topics. As Priscilla listened to a debate over the wisdom of cutting one’s hair to accommodate the newest styles, she noted the small gray kitten perched on the edge of a Chippendale table, its eyes riveted on Mrs. Gibbon’s bobbing feathers. Cecelia’s newly adopted stray, no doubt. The one, she assumed, that had caused Stratton so much trouble.
It was thus with only half an ear that Priscilla heard the approaching scuttle accompanied by a cacophony of panting and wheezing and mild sounds of human distress. Small hairy mounds of gray and brown fur studded with black eyes and harnessed to servants by purple leashes, pushed their way through the door.
“My darlings,” Mirabella cooed as she rose. “You’ve come to greet our guests.”
“Oh dear,” Olivia whispered to Priscilla. “He wasn’t exaggerating, was he? They do look like rats. I’m surprised no one is standing on the table and screeching.”
Priscilla leaned over to respond but she was interrupted by a low, hair-raising feline growl as the kitten made an impressive, if ungraceful leap to the mantle. Back arched, fur on end, she hissed and spit at the intruders.
The ladies watched, some with interest, most with horror as the terriers jumped and scrambled over one another trying to reach the kitten. Four broke free; the remaining managed to effectively twist and tangle their leashes around the legs of their handlers, tripping two footmen and trapping a third. A maid who had entered with a tray of scones, screeched and tottered as she tried to avoid a length of tightly stretched leash until a large pair of male hands gripped her shoulders and the instruction to be quiet was uttered in such a commanding voice that even the ladies didn’t dare say a word.
Mirabella slowly sank back down into her chair.
“Sit,” he commanded. The dogs sat, tails wagging, as they adoringly gazed at the tall man in their midst.
Stratton took in a breath. “Pardon my interruption, ladies,” he said evenly, “but I thought it best that I intercede before anyone was injured. My aunt’s dogs tend to be over excitable.”
“Now, Eugie,” Mirabella began. “That isn’t really fair.”
“Reeds.” Ignoring his aunt, he addressed the butler who was cautiously backing away from the dogs. “If you would see that Aunt Mirabella’s pets are returned to their quarters. I believe they need to learn a few more manners before they are ready for company.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Knowing better than to protest at this point, Mirabella clucked and cooed as the terriers were reunited with their respective handlers. Priscilla watched as Stratton stood towering over the lot, the fine muscles over his lips twitching ever so slightly and the brightness of his eyes the only indication he was desperately trying not to laugh. It was all so ludicrous that she quickly looked away, knowing if they made eye contact all would be lost.
Once peace was restored and the dogs had vacated the drawing room, the gray kitten cast a look of contempt at the guests then proceeded to tiptoe delicately back and forth around the Oriental porcelain urn on the mantle. Her loud purring filling the silence. It seemed quite clear that at any moment she would rub her flanks against the urn and send it crashing to the floor. Fascinated by the precarious situation, Priscilla held her breath as she waited to see what happened next.
“Cecelia,” Stratton said. “It might be best if you took Ashley upstairs.”
A strangled sound came from Cecelia’s throat as she nodded. Then she rose and cautiously plucked the kitten from the mantle. “Excuse me,” she murmured. “I’ll be right back.”
Catastrophe averted, Priscilla let out a long, slow breath.
“Well,” Mirabella said. “Wasn’t that interesting? My little ones can be so entertaining.” She looked at Stratton. “Won’t you have some tea, dear? Hannah made some of her lovely teacakes with lemon icing. I know how much you like them. And I know our guests would enjoy your company.”
“I’m afraid I must decline, Aunt Mirabella.” His tone was courteous, but firm. “As much as I would love to stay and spend time with such charming company, I’ve far too much work waiting for me. Please excuse me, ladies. Enjoy the remainder of your afternoon.” He executed an elegant bow and left the room.
The party soon broke up with only Priscilla and Olivia remaining. Mirabella slipped her arm through Olivia’s and said,” Do stay a little longer. We have years to catch up on.”
; “I suppose we could stay for a little while.” She looked hopefully at Priscilla. “Unless, of course, you have something planned for this afternoon?”
“Please stay,” Cecelia said. “Several of my gowns have arrived and I would love for you to see them.”
As much as she would have liked to rescue Olivia, Priscilla couldn’t tell Cecelia no. “I’d love to see your gowns.”
“How marvelous.” Mirabella beamed. “You two take your time. Olivia and I have so much to talk about.
Priscilla gave Olivia a sympathetic glance as Cecelia took her arm and pulled her from the room.
“Oh, heavens.” Cecelia giggled. “Wasn’t that the funniest thing? I thought I would nearly burst.”
After holding back for so long, laughter got the better of Priscilla. “I must confess I thought your brother was exaggerating about the dogs," she choked out. "It seems, I was mistaken.”
“For some reason they adore Eugene.”
The sight of them gathered around his feet was something Priscilla would never forget. “I don’t believe the feeling is mutual.”
“No, but Aunt more than makes up for it. She’s positively gaga over the beasts. But we’re wasting time. Come along.” Cecelia took her hand and towed her along until they reached a door about halfway down the corridor.
“This can’t be your chambers,” Priscilla said.
“Of course not. They’re on the next floor. This is Eugene’s office.” She knocked and without waiting for a response opened the door and pushed Priscilla inside. “I’ll be back to get you in a little bit.” Grinning, she turned and disappeared down the corridor.
Stratton sat behind a large desk that was cluttered with ledgers and stacks of papers. His office was smaller than Priscilla would have expected but she decided it suited him. The furnishings were of good quality with heavy masculine lines. Two leather chairs sat in front of the desk. On closer inspection she realized the legs of several chairs as well as the desk were well chewed.
Smiling, he rose and closed the door behind them. “Hello, love. Has the afternoon tea broken up?”
Just the sound of his voice caused a feeling of warmth to spread throughout her body and she wondered how she had managed to tell the ladies that they did not suit without choking on the words. “Yes. It seemed rather anticlimactic after you left. I had no idea you were so skilled at managing small animals. We were all very impressed. The ladies couldn’t stop raving. One would have thought you’d tamed a pride of hungry lions the way they carried on.”
He grinned. “I’m happy to have been of service.”
She gestured toward the chair legs. “Is this the room the dogs have been munching on?”
His frown lasted no more than a few seconds. “Yes. Bloody animals.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly moved her backwards until she was up against his desk. “Now, how much time do we have?”
A little tingle traveled up her spine. She laughed softly and murmured. “Not long enough for what you’re planning. Cecelia said she would be back in a few minutes.” A slight hitch caught in her throat as he lifted her onto his desk. “Your aunt and Olivia think I’m looking at Cecelia’s wardrobe.”
“So Cecelia arranged this? Mmm. I must remember to thank her.” He took her face in his hands and gently kissed her.
Suddenly she pulled back and frowned. “You’re a most frustrating man. I’ve completely forgotten that I’m angry with you."
He kissed the tip of her nose. “And why are you angry with me?”
“You took Lady Williams home the other night and didn’t even mention it to me.” She rested her hands on her hips and did her best to glare at him.
He stopped and grinned at her. “Are you jealous, Miss Hawthorn?”
She sniffed. “Certainly not. I simply don’t like you keeping things from me.”
“You have no room to talk.” He expertly maneuvered himself between her legs and scooted her forward. “And I wasn’t keeping anything from you. I failed to mention it because it was of no importance. I inadvertently walked into the middle of a quarrel between Lord Bennett and Lady Williams. She refused his escort home and my good breeding and exceptional manners dictated that I offer her a way home. You may blame both my mother and my education for that. However, from now on I shall inform you of every soul I convey in my carriage.”
Her hands curved around the back of his neck. “Please do.”
“I assure you that nothing untoward happened with Lady Williams the other evening. Aunt Mirabella and Cecelia were with me, and alas, there was simply no opportunity to ravish her.”
She drew his face to hers and bit down none too gently on his lower lip.
“Minx.” His eyes brightened with laughter. “You will pay for that later.”
"Oh, my." Touching his lip with her fingertip, she said, “Should I be frightened?”
“Terribly.” He caught her hand and pressed his lips against her wrist.
“I don’t believe she cares much for me.”
“Who? Lady Williams?”
“Yes.”
His handsome features drew into a scowl. “That’s utter nonsense. Everyone likes you. There isn’t an unlikable bone in your body.”
She thought, trying to decide how to best describe the animosity she felt radiating from Lady Williams. “She kept looking over at me. It wasn't a friendly look. At first, I thought my hair was mussed or I had spilled something across the front of my gown. It was very odd. I can't think what her problem might be.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
“Not a word.”
"Perhaps she was just out of sorts." His fingers found their way into her bodice. “We should continue this discussion later.”
They were interrupted by a knock. “I’ve come to retrieve Priscilla,” Cecelia called out softly.
“My sister has abominable timing,” Stratton muttered. He slid Priscilla to the ground and turned. “Come in, Cecelia.”
She stuck her head in the door and grinned. “I apologize for the interruption, but it had to be done. We must scoot upstairs before Aunt comes looking for us. We should be knee deep in silks and muslins by now.”
“Alas, life is full of disappointments,” Stratton commented. “I suppose I will survive this one.” He took Priscilla’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Hawthorn.”
Priscilla glanced over at Cecelia who was watching with great interest. She felt her cheeks burn. “Until tomorrow, then.”
Cecelia laughed as Priscilla joined her in the corridor. “The two of you are awfully moon-eyed over one another for a couple who don’t suit.”
Priscilla took her by the sleeve. “You must do me a favor,” she said. “I can’t explain the reason for it, but you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”
Cecelia looked over her shoulder, then bent her head toward Priscilla. “A secret romance! How positively thrilling.”
Stratton had just resettled himself behind the desk when Reeds appeared in the doorway. The butler had a pained look on his face.
He looked up and said, “Reeds if you’ve come to tell me anything more about the bloody dogs, you may just as well go away. I don’t want to hear it.”
“No, my lord, I wouldn’t presume to do so. Madame’s creatures are for the moment imprisoned in their quarters. But you have a caller.” He presented a calling card. “Lady Williams returned to collect her gloves and has requested a moment of your time. I have left her in the drawing room.” He paused. “The first floor drawing floor.”
Stratton wondered what she had done to insult the butler. The first floor drawing room was small, drafty and rarely used. And what did she want with him? A servant could have easily retrieved the glove. How very curious. Perhaps he would learn what caused her strange behavior toward Priscilla. “Tell her I’ll be there in a moment.” He closed the cover on his ledger and set it aside.
“Shall I bring her tea?”
He didn't even consi
der it. He would find out what she wanted and send her on her way. “No. I believe she just had tea.”
Reeds allowed himself a faint smile. “So she did. Very good, my lord.”
She was still standing when Stratton reached the drawing room. Believing he could learn more by putting her at ease, he courteously took her hand and bowed over it. “Lady Williams, how may I be of service?”
Her lashes fluttered and she graced him with a dazzling smile. “Forgive the intrusion, my lord, but there is a matter of some import and if you have a few minutes I would like to discuss it with you.”
His curiosity rose. What was the lady up to? He gestured toward a chair. “Of course. Please have a seat.”
"Thank you.” She seated herself with an accomplished grace, her half-boots crossed at the ankle, her hands neatly folded in her lap. “You’re most kind to see me. I trust you will consider it time well spent." Her lips compressed. Her gaze fell to her lap and a long moment passed before she looked up. "This is a little difficult, my lord. May I be forthright?”
A rosy blush tinted her cheeks and he wondered if she was truly embarrassed or if she was able to blush at will. He waved his hand in consent. “By all means.”
Her head tilted slightly as she looked at him. “This is the first time you’ve come to London for the season in a number of years. As I understand it, your motive was not your own amusement but rather to fulfill certain family obligations.” She paused. “Am I correct?”
“You are.”
“The social life of the ton is not your cup of tea.” She placed her hand on her breast, touched the small emerald pendant that ended just above her cleavage. It was a skillful pose and he had to admit that she was a stunningly beautiful woman--tall, amply endowed with hair as black as night and face like a goddess. And she tempted him not one whit. In fact, she rather annoyed him.
He gave a single nod. “Again you are correct.”
The Bewitching Hour Page 26