Noble Intentions n-1

by Katie MacAlister

  What Rosse hadn’t told his friend was that he himself had hired two more men with the sole purpose of following the earl and his countess. One of the men was even now in attendance at Lady Gayfield’s, in the guise of a hired footman. The other had been given an invitation to the rout, procured at no small social cost to Rosse, and was in attendance at the party. Rosse went over his plans again, satisfied he had done all he could to protect his friend and his lovely lady.

  “Lord Rosse?” That lady was now sitting across from him in his carriage and frowning in a most annoyed fashion.

  “I beg your pardon, Lady Weston, I was pondering a problem. What was your question?”

  “About Noble and this silly duel…”

  Rosse blinked at her in surprise. “You know about the duel?”

  “Of course I know about the duel; I was there when Noble challenged poor Lord Carlisle.”

  “Ah. Well…ah…I don’t believe it’s customary to acquaint the wife of the duelist with the facts, my lady.”

  “Regardless, you will. You are Noble’s second, are you not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Excellent. Then you must help me stop it.”

  “I understood that most ladies find it pleasing for their honor to be the subject of a duel.”

  “I am not most ladies, my lord.”

  No, she certainly was not. Rosse couldn’t help but grin at her as she continued.

  “I do not find the idea of my husband allowing another man to aim a pistol at him and fire a pleasant one, my lord, and I intend to move heaven and earth to make sure that he will not be in that position. Where and when is the duel to be held?”

  Rosse shook his head. “I have not yet met with Lord Carlisle, my lady.”

  “But it will be you who suggests a meeting time and place, will it not?”

  “As Noble’s second, my first duty is to attempt to resolve the situation by means other than dueling.”

  Gillian snorted a most unladylike snort. “You know Noble, and I assume you know Lord Carlisle — two more pigheaded, obstinate, proud men I’ve never seen. Neither will back down.”

  “I am in agreement with you there, my lady. Assuming negotiations for a peaceable end to the challenge fails, then yes, I will suggest a meeting time and place.”

  Gillian chewed on her lower lip as she pondered the situation, her brow furrowed in thought, her fingers absently twisting the beads on her midnight blue overdress. Suddenly her brow cleared, her eyes sparkled, and her mouth formed a charming smile.

  Rosse was struck once again with a sense of rightness that she and Noble should have found each other. If only they could see how much love they had to offer each other, he thought, and voiced the question that rose to his tongue. “You have thought of something to put an end to the duel, my lady?”

  “Yes, my lord, I do believe I have.”

  “And that is…?”

  “Better left unsaid to you, Lord Rosse, lest at a later time my lord accuse you of having a hand in it.”

  Rosse spent the better part of the journey to Berkeley Square trying to convince her of the folly of whatever plan she had dreamed up, but it was to no avail.

  Gillian needed desperately to see Charlotte. As the only person who knew she was investigating Noble’s past, Charlotte’s advice and help was invaluable, especially now when she had two immediate problems facing her — to find out what Lord Carlisle wanted, and to ensure that the duel did not take place. Since both items revolved around the same man, and threatened the health and happiness of her beloved husband, she felt herself perfectly within her rights to go against that husband’s wishes and meet with the very man he had ordered her to avoid. She wasn’t a fool, however, and knew that any meeting with Carlisle must take place in the presence of a witness to protect her reputation with both society and her husband. To be truthful, she didn’t care a fig about the former, but the latter concerned her greatly.

  Gillian greeted Lady Gayfield, who was delighted to have her present and asked whether the earl would be joining her soon. Lady Gayfield was newly married, and nervous about this, her second ton party. She was thrilled, however, that the two most talked-about members of society were going to be present.

  “Lord Weston will be here,” Gillian told the viscountess. “He had an important engagement, but he promised he’d be along later.”

  Lady Gayfield, feeling one Weston was good, but two would be better, especially if they could be counted on to do something scandalous like embrace publicly, was perfectly happy to wait until all hours for the arrival of the earl.

  “May I be allowed to say how much I admired your actions the past evening?”

  “My actions?” Gillian looked down at her faintly blue palms.

  “Your…your affectionate embrace. It was so very romantic, so full of passion and l’amour! If the mood were to overtake you again this evening, and you wished to embrace your husband in such a manner, I want you to feel free to do so. You are among friends, Lady Weston, friends who would not censure you for feeling what is right and natural for your husband.”

  Gillian tried not to let the corners of her mouth twitch. “Thank you, Lady Gayfield. Should I be overcome with emotion and find it necessary to kiss my husband, I will do so secure in the knowledge that I have your full approval.”

  “Indeed,” Lady Gayfield smiled delightedly and pressed Gillian’s hand, grand visions of the gossip that would fly from her party the following day should the Westones behave with suitably improper behavior, “indeed, I would not mind at all were you to give free rein to your emotions.”

  Gillian found the idea of the ton holding its collective breath waiting for her and Noble to display their affection very amusing.

  “You are, after all, newly wed.”

  “Very true, and while I appreciate the offer to heed the call of our passions and desires, I believe Lord Weston will draw the line at actually bedding me in front of your guests.”

  There were gasps behind her as others overheard her outrageous statement.

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Lady Gayfield gasped also, in mingled horror and delight. Who knew what Lady Weston would say next? She almost hoped it would be something just as shocking. If only the Westons would see fit to conduct themselves in a scandalous fashion, her reputation as a hostess of the most interesting ton parties would be made.

  Gillian made her excuses and escaped both Lady Gayfield and Lord Rosse and went in search of her cousin. She had passed from a reception room to the supper room but couldn’t find her, and was just about to peer into the card room when she spied a familiar figure seated in a corner next to an enormous palm.

  “Sir,” she said, making a formal curtsy.

  “Eh? Oh, it’s you, gel. Thought I’d see you here this evening.”

  Gillian seated herself on the love seat next to the wizened figure and prepared to interrogate the old man about his connection with Noble.

  His brilliant blue eyes sparkled at her from beneath his bushy white eyebrows, almost as if he could guess her thoughts.

  “You look as if you’d just met with a highwayman.”

  “I believe I did. An honorable one at that.”

  “Eh? Oh, Carlisle.”

  Gillian stared openmouthed at the frail old man. “Yes, how did you know?”

  “Bound to happen if you were looking in the proper place to uncover the secrets. Secrets and lies, I told you, and secrets and lies are what you’ve found.”

  Gillian reflected on that for a moment. “But which are the lies and which are the truths?”

  “ ’Tis for you to tell.” The old man clasped his rheumy hands together and leaned back against the red cushions. “Your heart knows what’s true and what’s false. A smart woman would listen to what her heart tells her.”

  Gillian sighed. “That’s just the problem. When I listen to my heart and try to act on its advice, I end up in trouble. Now Noble has challenged Lord Carlisle to a duel all because of my heart, and I
have to save him. It’s not easy being a woman, you know.”

  Palmerston snorted and closed his eyes. “No one said this journey would be easy, gel. If it’s a life of ease you want, it’s within your grasp. All you have to do is take it.”

  “But at what cost?” Gillian asked softly. “Noble’s happiness? I’d rather struggle on with the journey if that’s the price. He needs me, Palmerston, and I’m not about to give up on him when he needs me.”

  The old man didn’t answer. Gillian wasn’t sure if this was his way of dismissing her, or if he had actually fallen asleep. He was very old; it was probably the latter. She gave him a gentle pat on his knobby hand and slipped away quietly.

  She found her cousin a few minutes later.

  “Good evening, Aunt, Uncle.”

  Her aunt greeted her in a flustered, hesitant manner but didn’t seem to have forbidden Charlotte to be in her niece’s presence. Gillian curtsyed to her uncle, received a frosty look in return, and hurried over to claim Charlotte.

  “Char, I must speak with you.”

  “Later, Gilly. Mama is fishing for an introduction to the most divine viscount, and I believe Lady Weatherby is going to finally admit defeat with her poor plain-faced Anne and introduce me to him.”

  “This is more important than your divine viscount.”

  Charlotte looked disbelieving. “I doubt if anything could be more important than a divine viscount.” She snapped open her fan. “Unless, of course, it’s a divine earl, marquis, or duke.”

  “This concerns an earl, and one whom you were, a few hours ago, making the most obvious sheep’s eyes over.”

  “Lord Carlisle?” Charlotte asked.

  “The very same.”

  Charlotte whispered a few words to her mother and then followed after her cousin to a secluded corner.

  “I had assumed that Lord Weston would have forbidden you to see Lord Carlisle again after that delicious scene this afternoon.”

  “It’s hardly delicious when one’s husband’s life is in danger, Charlotte. And he did forbid me, but that’s of no matter now, because I simply must save him. Look, this came a few hours ago.”

  She handed Charlotte the letter she had received.

  “Oh, my,” Charlotte said, a worried frown wrinkling her brow as she took in the few lines. “You’re not going to do it, are you? Meet with him secretly? Tonight?”

  “It says he has important information vital to our quest, Charlotte.”

  “Well, as to that, you weren’t very forthcoming with him about your quest, you know.”

  “That’s because Noble believes him to be behind the attack. I had to throw him off the scent by implying we believed it was someone else who planned such a heinous crime.”

  “But I thought you believed that.”

  “I do, but Noble doesn’t, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, dear cousin, it’s the importance of keeping an open mind. No, my duty is quite clear. I must meet with Lord Carlisle, and not only ascertain what vital information he has, but also — not that it will do any good — beg him to consider apologizing to Noble and thus halting the duel.”

  “And if he won’t?”

  Gillian sighed. “I shall take steps to ensure they won’t meet tomorrow. I don’t wish to — they’re rather drastic steps — but I have Noble to think about.”

  “Why do I have a feeling your Noble won’t be happy with you thinking about him in such a manner?”

  Gillian waved off the question. “You must come with me once the meeting spot is named and be my witness.”

  “Have you been contacted yet?”

  “No, but the note didn’t say when I would be contacted, just that someone would let me know when and where I was to meet him.”

  “I will come with you, Gilly, but I think you should reconsider your actions. Lord Weston — oh, Gilly, there he is!”

  “Noble?”

  “No, the divine viscount. Isn’t he delicious?”

  “Quite fashionable,” Gillian said, viewing the dandified viscount with a giggle. “Those curls must have taken him forever to achieve.”

  “Mmm, but it’s worth the effort.” Charlotte started to move off toward her mother and the viscount.

  “Don’t forget, you promised you’d come with me!”

  Charlotte waved a hand in acknowledgment and went to meet the sprig of fashion.

  Gillian mingled, chatted, and even danced a few country dances before she received the instructions she awaited. A footman approached, bowed, and handed her a slip of paper. She read it quickly; then, with a glance through the rooms to make sure Noble had not yet shown up, she went to find Charlotte.

  “Well, blast,” she muttered when she found her. Charlotte was involved in a lengthy looking dance and was sure to be busy for some time. Gillian glanced at the note again.

  Third room on the left, second floor. I’ll wait ten minutes, then leave. Come alone. Well, she certainly wasn’t enough of a ninny to go alone to a stranger’s bedchamber with a man who was not her husband, but she did not wish to miss this chance to learn what Lord Carlisle knew, and to beg him to apologize to Noble. She waited until Charlotte was standing during a quiet moment in the set, and passed the note to her. Charlotte read it, nodded, and slipped the paper into her glove.

  Gillian waited as long as she could, watching a gilt ormolu clock nervously, but there was nothing for it but to go upstairs by herself. Charlotte was still engaged in the dance with her divine viscount, and nothing was going to pull her from that sort of an opportunity.

  Gillian toyed with the idea of asking a footman to accompany her but had a much better idea. She looked around for a servant, noticed a short, burly footman just behind her, and signaled to him.

  “Madam?”

  “I am feeling unwell, and Lady Gayfield has suggested I rest quietly for a few moments in a bedchamber upstairs. The third one on the left, second floor. I would like a maid sent to attend me.”

  The footman looked startled but murmured his compliance and left to carry out her instructions. She uncrossed her fingers and, feeling pleased with her cleverness, hurried toward the staircase.

  She climbed the stairs to the second floor, popped her head around the corner to make sure there was no one in the hallway, and scurried down, counting doors. “One, two, ah, here it is.”

  She slipped into the room and was surprised to find it empty, although several tapers had been lit. There was a large bed with blue and gold bed curtains, several pieces of mahogany furniture, a love seat against a far wall, a screen with embroidered peacocks, and a large painting reminiscent of Botticelli’s Venus. Gillian looked at the painting closely. Was that cherub doing what she thought he was doing?

  “I believe that’s by Smollett,” a voice from the other side of the room said. Gillian spun around and clutched her throat, then relaxed when she saw Lord Carlisle leaning negligently against the wall next to a wardrobe.

  “You gave me quite a start, my lord, but I am pleased you are still here. I was detained and feared you would leave before I could meet with you.”

  “And deny myself the pleasure of a few stolen moments in your exquisite company, madam?” Lord Carlisle strolled into the room and grasped Gillian’s hand in both of his, and brought it to his mouth. “I could not leave without gazing just once more into those deep, entrancing pools of emerald.”

  He kept his gaze locked on Gillian’s as he turned her hand over and kissed her palm.

  Gillian leaned closer. “You’re very good, my lord, but not nearly as good as my husband.”

  The smile that had been playing around the earl’s manly lips suddenly evaporated. He dropped her hand with a sigh.

  “Well, it cannot be said that I did not try.”

  “No,” Gillian laughed, “you did try. I’m sorry, my lord, but I do not wish to have an affair with you; I merely wish to know what it is you wanted to tell me about Noble, and to discuss this silly duel.”

  Carlisle said nothing for a m
oment, his black eyes somber. “Madam, will you accept advice from one who has known you but a short while?”

  “Advice? What sort of advice?” Gillian glanced toward the door. Shouldn’t the maid she asked for be arriving by now?

  “As I said earlier, I have every reason to believe Lord Weston murdered his wife.”

  “Oh, that,” Gillian interrupted dismissively. “My lord, we’ve been through that. No matter what Lady Weston told you, I refuse to believe that Noble acted as you have implied. He is simply not capable of such behavior.”

  Carlisle took her hand in his again but this time his eyes were serious and full of concern. “My dear, I know it is hard for you to admit, but your husband was responsible for his wife’s death, and for her suffering before that untimely event. I cannot help but worry that should his substantial temper turn on you, you might suffer the same fate as my dear Elizabeth.”

  “I appreciate your concern,” Gillian told him, giving his hand a slight squeeze. “But I am in no danger from Noble, nor will you ever convince me he had anything to do with his wife’s death. Now, if you could tell me the information about the attack on Noble you wish to impart, I would be most grateful.”

  Carlisle closed his eyes for a moment and was just about to speak when someone knocked on the door.

  “Oh, good, that will be the maid,” Gillian said as she started for the door.

  “Lady Weston?”

  It was a man’s voice at the door.

  “Oh, my,” she said with a guilty glance toward the earl.

  He held a finger to his lips and slipped into the wardrobe.

  “Yes?” Gillian opened the door. It was the short footman. He looked nervously to either side, then pushed the door back slightly and squeezed through the opening.

  “My lady, your husband has arrived and is seeking you. I would suggest you have your…rest…later.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. Um…” Gillian sent a concerned look toward the wardrobe. She hated to leave the earl without finding out what information he had about Noble’s attacker. “Can you be discreet…uh…”