Theodora

by Christina McKnight

  The embarrassment of his needing to track down Lady Theo’s residence to collect his hoyden of a sister was infuriating and embarrassing. Adeline had agreed to return home in time for her fitting, and Alistair had misguidedly believed her—the thought of her lying before her friend was something inconceivable to him.

  Alistair had to settle his account with Miss Cleo, and he’d decided to attend with Adeline, see for himself all the garments worth the king’s ransom he’d been billed. Luckily, he had, or he would have never known she’d missed the fitting. And unluckily for his sister, she wouldn’t be allowed out of the house again without him or Abel to escort her.

  The shock on the butler’s face when Alistair had pounded upon Lady Theo’s door had been one of utter bewilderment that had swiftly turned to unease. Alistair had been shown to a drawing room quickly enough, and it was only then that he saw the irony of his calling on Lady Theo without Lord Cartwright’s permission—or so much as a proper introduction.

  His fury at Adeline was too great to care at the moment.

  The fire in the hearth blazed, causing Alistair to grow uncomfortably warm as he paced the room. He needs must calm himself, or he’d frighten Lady Theo…again. And, truly, he was angry at Adeline, not her friend. It would be beyond impertinent of him to take his aggression out on the innocent woman whose only misstep was befriending Alistair’s wayward sister.

  Alistair removed his jacket and slung it over his arm as he moved to inspect a shelf farthest from the fire and view several obscure items set carefully upon stands. One was a scroll, tightly bound. An odd thing to display, as one could not see what words it held within. Another shelf held several books—in no discernible order to Alistair, though they all seemed to focus on geography, one about the great desert plains in Africa, and another about the rich soil found in the New World. Certainly not subjects he was prepared to find in a lady’s receiving room.

  “Mr. Price?” Lady Theo squeaked behind him. “How may I help you?”

  He turned toward her, not having heard her enter the room—his demand caught in his throat. She wore the simplest day gown of pale blue, making her ordinary brown hair seem a much deeper brunette as it fell about her shoulders.

  He swallowed, shaking his head softly to banish the thought of what her silken waves would feel like against his cheek. “My apologies for calling unannounced, but I am looking for Adeline. She did not arrive home from your picnic to attend her fitting. By chance, is she here?” he asked, but Alistair hadn’t the slightest clue where his sister would be if not with Lady Theo. His siblings were new to town, and they were not acquainted with many people as yet.

  She took a step back, her shoulders tightening as she avoided his stare, almost as if she sought to hide the answer he’d clearly seen in her eyes. Lady Theo was not adept at lying—likely never having the need until her acquaintance with Adeline. He felt a bit responsible for that burden.

  “She…well…” Lady Theo stuttered. “She departed with Georgie and Josie in time to arrive home for her fitting, Mr. Price.”

  Her claim was about as convincing as Adeline’s too fair skin—Alistair being aware she applied powder to give the illusion of a fairer complexion. But what did Lady Theodora have to hide from him?

  And why was she willing to risk his anger for Adeline?

  “And she was headed directly home?” If she insisted on lying, then he would push her to say the words aloud.

  “I would assume so.” She still hadn’t met his intense gaze.

  “Let us say she did not, indeed, go home. Where would you presume she went?”

  “I would not wish to guess or assume anything, Mr. Price. Should I know more than I do?”

  Answering a question with a question—a tactic she’d likely learned from Adeline. Lady Theo must have been warned of his extreme aversion of others answering his questions with other questions. “I would suspect that since you and she are so close—“

  “We are not that close,” she said, cutting him off.

  “Close enough to have shared a room at school for six years and dined together this afternoon.” He dared her to deny him once more.

  “I am sorry, but I am unaware where Miss Adeline went when she departed my home,” Lady Theo said. “If by chance I hear from her or the other women, I will send word immediately.”

  “Very well,” Alistair gave in, allowing Theo her secrets. “I will do the same. If she arrives home, I will send word that she is safe.”

  “That is much appreciated,” Theo said. “Now, if you do not mind, my mother and I are expecting visitors shortly.”

  “I thought your mother had plans that would not allow her to attend your picnic.” He raised a brow.

  Obviously stunned, it took Lady Theo a moment to get her thoughts in order before she spoke—and Alistair would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy catching her off guard as she had him the day before. “Yes, well, she arrived home not long ago, and we have guests arriving any moment. As I said, I will send word if I hear from Adeline. My butler can give you Lady Georgina’s and Lady Josephine’s directions if that would help.” She turned to walk toward the door, signaling their visit was at an end. “Squires will see you out. Good day, Mr. Price.”

  “It was a pleasure seeing you again,” he called. Lady Theo’s shoulders tightened at the word “pleasure,” and he watched the sway of her hips as she led him into the hallway.

  “Theodora?” a voice called. “My heaven’s, what dress are you wearing? It is certainly not suitable for our esteemed guests.”

  Alistair retreated several paces into the room to hide his presence. His calling on Lady Theo was not entirely proper as she hadn’t been introduced to society. That she was friends with Adeline did not rectify that fact.

  “Mother,” Lady Theo said, her footsteps speeding up—along with the sway of her backside—as she moved down the hall toward the other woman. It was as Alistair had suspected, she’d kept her footsteps light when entering the room to speak with him. “I had a surprise visitor, but I am finished now and was coming to find you.”

  “Well, I suppose there is not enough time for you to change. At least Marianne was able to tame your wild locks this morning.” The women’s voices receded as they moved away from Alistair and Lady Theo’s receiving room. “Mr. Oliver Gladstone will arrive any moment. I know you will find him to your liking.”

  Gladstone? That holier than thou scoundrel who owed money to every gaming hell and bordello in London? That man was to no one’s liking.

  Alistair would feed his sister to a horde of hyenas before giving her over to a rascal such as Gladstone who called himself a gentleman.

  However, Lady Theo’s suitors—and her future in general—did not concern Alistair any further than where it pertained to Adeline’s current whereabouts. Convinced Lady Theo and her mother had retreated far enough away, Alistair made his way to the foyer to depart, Lady Theo’s butler nowhere in sight—Lady Josephine’s and Lady Georgina’s directions forgotten.

  Unfortunately, his good luck did not last for a knock sounded at the front door, and the butler appeared.

  The butler eyed Alistair, silently wondering why he was still there Alistair was sure, but the man’s manners kept him from speaking out of turn.

  “I was showing myself out, my good man,” Alistair commented when the butler made no further move to answer the door.

  Alistair grasped the knob and opened the portal wide, coming face-to-face with Gladstone.

  “Mr. Price,” the man hissed. “Whatever are you doing here?”

  “Gladstone,” he replied. “I would ask you the same thing. There are no card tables within these walls—nor scantily clad women.”

  “I am here at the dowager countess’s behest, to meet her daughter, Lady Theodora.” Gladstone looked down his pointy nose at Alistair, which was a feat as the man was almost a foot shorter than he. “Though, I cannot ascertain any reason you’d be here.”

  Alistair was uncertain whet
her to admit he’d come to see Lady Theodora, himself. “I came to speak to Lord Cartwright. Unfortunately, he is away from home at present.”

  “Ah, well, I had heard Abel was looking for a post at the museum. I guess my sources were correct.” Gladstone stepped around Alistair and allowed the butler to take his jacket, Alistair’s own still draped over his arm. “It must be quite taxing being the spare heir.” The man visibly shuddered, and Alistair took yet another calming breath to suppress his retort.

  “But do we all not wish for a bit less responsibility and the ability to live a carefree life?” Alistair emphasized the term, knowing that Gladstone was close to having his massive amounts of debt called in and his townhouse seized. “Perhaps I will see you at the tables shortly—maybe at my club?” At the man’s outright venomous glare, Alistair continued, “Oh, that is right. White’s does not take kindly to members who are unable to pay their bills. I guess I won’t be seeing you at White’s anytime soon—though Abel is looking forward to his sponsorship being approved shortly. I suppose being a spare isn’t as bad as it appears.”

  Gladstone’s face flushed a bright red, although Alistair was unsure if it was his anger or humiliation that cause the heat. Gladstone was the only son of a merchant. His designs to marry into the ton were well-known.

  With a sense of accomplishment, Alistair strode out the front door.

  He must call on Lady Theodora’s brother presently to dissuade the man from entertaining any type of offer from Gladstone to court or wed Lord Cartwright’s sister—that was, as soon as Alistair located Adeline and locked her in her room until the season was underway.

  Chapter 4

  Theo entered her mother’s salon while the dowager countess hurried to the foyer to collect Mr. Gladstone. Theo’s mind was on one thing: escaping her house to search for Adeline. She needed to warn her of Mr. Price’s fury over his sister’s failure to arrive home as expected. The Whitechapel tourney would be starting in an hour’s time—with no hope for her friend to return home before the sun began to set.

  Adeline’s plan had been flawed from the very beginning, and her friend hadn’t needed Theo to point it out.

  Theo sat heavily in her favorite chair by the window. A part of her knew Adeline’s troubles were not her making, but that did not alleviate Theo’s guilt over Mr. Price’s irritation with his sister. If only she’d been able to concoct another lie quickly—something that would have appeased Price and kept Adeline from further trouble. Her friends would never trust her again with anything.

  She stood when Mr. Oliver Gladstone entered the room, taking in his roundish figure—more suitable to an aging vendor outside Hyde Park than a gentleman on the fringes of the ton. He would certainly do himself an enormous favor by taking up fencing or even horseback riding to counteract the structure he’d clearly inherited from his mother, Mrs. Eugenia Gladstone, the daughter of a baron who’d married a wealthy merchant. Even his jet-black hair lay oily across his forehead as if his mother had given him a haircut before he’d arrived to meet Theo.

  Theo had had occasion to meet Mrs. Gladstone several times when the elder woman came calling at their townhouse. From what Theo could remember, it was highly likely the mother and son shared a lady’s maid for their hair and fashion styles.

  After entering the room, Mr. Gladstone continued to speak with her mother, the Dowager Lady Cartwright, and did not spare Theo a single glance. It gave her ample time to take stock—the way he smiled, his lips pulling back in a harsh slash across his face with his teeth yellowed and crooked. His skin was pale to the point of appearing as discolored as his teeth. He would certainly benefit from a dusting of white powder—mayhap when they were better acquainted, she’d send the gift round to his home.

  Mr. Gladstone stood with his shoulders squared, likely thinking it made his less-than-average height appear taller, though all it succeeded in doing was highlighting his protruding paunch.

  Theo could scarcely believe the difference between the man who’d just departed her home and Gladstone. Where Mr. Price stared at her intensely every moment they shared space, Gladstone could not be bothered to make her acquaintance or even so much as nod in her direction. Possibly he was hampered by poor sight and truly couldn’t see her standing only five feet from him. Surely that was the only plausible excuse for making such an uncouth first impression.

  “Mr. Gladstone,” the dowager countess finally said, cutting off their talk of—heavens knew what; Theo hadn’t been listening. “May I present my daughter, Lady Theodora Montgomery.”

  Gladstone turned to face her as Theo stepped forward. As he appraised her, she noted his beady eyes inspecting her as if she were a piece of livestock at the auction house. Everything her brother and Judith had instilled in her shouted this man was not right for her—and most certainly, no intelligent woman of the ton.

  “Lady Theodora Montgomery.” He gave her a slow, unsteady bow, and she feared for a brief moment he would topple to the ground before her. She even had the good sense to take a small step back in case he did careen to the floor. It would not do for them to find themselves entangled on the rug; however, he righted himself with a little less grace than most men. “Our mothers have spoken of this day for many, many years. It is an honor to meet you.”

  Theo got the sense it was anything but an honor. “And you, Mr. Gladstone.”

  “Do have a seat, Oliver, dear,” Theo’s mother chimed in, ushering them back toward the lounge. Dear? She’d never once heard her mother speak in such a soft, endearing tone. The dowager stood before the only chair, making it necessary for Theo and Mr. Gladstone to share the lounge. It dipped precariously as he sat next to her, his thigh brushing hers before Theo scooted the few inches away. “I am sorry to hear your mother was unable to accompany you, Mr. Gladstone.”

  “Yes, well.” Gladstone used the guise of clearing his throat to move closer to Theo once more. “She is overly occupied by her charitable deeds. My mother hopes to visit someday soon.”

  “Very good,” her mother said. “I will see where Olivia is with our tea. Do speak amongst yourselves, I will return shortly.”

  She shot a scolding glare at her mother’s retreating form. It was all a bit too contrived for Theo’s liking. She’d arrived in London from school only a fortnight ago, and proper entertaining dresses had been delivered only the morning before—and now, Gladstone was calling.

  Even more suspect was his calling at a time when Cart and Judith were out with the children.

  Her mother could not possibly think they would make a favorable match. It had nothing to do with his birth as a merchant’s son or his lack of title. It had everything to do with the lecherous stare he’d given her when they’d been introduced.

  “Lady Theodora,” he started, shifting his body slightly to face her. “I was told you attended Miss Emmeline’s School of Education and Decorum for Ladies of Outstanding Quality in Canterbury. How did you fair?”

  “Very well. Thank you for asking.” She’d spoken of this topic only the day before with Mr. Price, yet Gladstone’s question seemed a nicety to elicit no information deeper than that her stay had been agreeable. She decided to test the depth of his interest. “Headmistress has done a fine job of hiring adequate instructors in all subjects ranging from the sciences to arithmetic to literature.”

  His brow rose in shock. “All of those subjects? I fear your mind must have about burst from all the useless knowledge. I am certain a woman of your standing favored tutelage in decorum and etiquette far more than the likes of which men study at university.”

  Useless knowledge? Theo routinely visited the British Museum with Cart and attributed far more time to her studies in geology and literature than learning the dances popular in London’s ballrooms or which hat and gloves suited which dress.

  “I, for one, will not push such high expectations on my daughters,” he confided in a whisper, leaning ever closer to Theo, his knee rubbing against the fabric of her blue gown. “It is not necessar
y for their delicate minds to be weighed down by learning anything past basic reading and arithmetic for keeping the household ledgers.”

  Theo only nodded, unable to voice how drastically her views differed from his.

  He must have taken her silence to mean she was enthralled with all he spoke of. “It is also my belief, as well as my family’s—and dare I say, yours—that females be learned in child care and serve as proper hostesses for their families. It is a far more valuable trait for a woman to learn obedience to her father—and later, her husband—than notions of science, do you not think, Lady Theodora?”

  “Obedience, Mr. Gladstone? In what regard?” she asked, her left eye twitching at her annoyance with the man, her clasped hands tightening in her lap at the thought of what he could mean.

  “My mother and father were betrothed at a very young age—my mother only one and ten years.” He paused, a faraway, blissful look entering his eyes. “My father, being almost at his majority at the time, was able to guide my mother’s learning. She was schooled in all things domestic. My father credits her proper upbringing for his continued success in business.”

  Theo’s jaw tightened at the mere thought of the elder Gladstone perusing a child for his bride.

  “How is that?” She shouldn’t be insisting on further answers as it only delayed her departure for Whitechapel. “If you will forgive my forward questioning.”

  “Very worthy inquiry, my lady,” he said, his hand coming forward to settle on hers. She stilled the urge to pull her hand back. “She was raised a submissive girl who honored a man’s wishes; therefore, allowing my father to aim all his efforts toward his business, not worrying about a wayward wife.”

  “Yes, your father is a lucky man,” Theo agreed, though her heart went out to his mother—for all she’d been deprived of in her life.

  “Now, do not hear me incorrectly, I am progressive in many ways—take that I do not see the need for women to sit before the hearth and work at their needlepoint for hours on end.” He chuckled at his self-proclaimed radical view. “I have found an inventor in Scotland—but you are not interested in the history behind this all—but he has a machine that not only sews, but also embroiders, making darning and needlepoint unnecessary.”