Intriguing Lady

by Leonora Blythe

  When Jenkins appeared an hour later to inquire if Sir Nicholas was ready to eat, he found him sprawled on the sofa in a drunken stupor, the empty decanter by his side.

  Chapter 14

  Roberta returned to the carriage to find Polly weeping uncontrollably. When they finally reached Grosvenor Square, Roberta ordered Polly to bed and told her to stay there for the rest of the evening. And then, deciding to do the same thing herself, she mounted the stairs to her own room.

  “Excuse me, Miss Roberta,” the butler said when she was halfway up, “Lord Bromley would like to see you.”

  “I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she responded wearily, and wished she could refuse the summons. She wasn’t ready to face anyone yet.

  Fifteen minutes later, after she had changed her rumpled gown arid repinned her hair, she found Lord Bromley seated at his desk, reading a dispatch.

  “Aha, Roberta!” he said without looking up. “Take a seat; I won’t be long.”

  She sat primly on the edge of a leather chair. She knew her uncle’s moods well and could judge from the tone of his voice that he was displeased about something.

  The rustling of papers finally ceased, and when her uncle rose and faced her, his expression was troubled.

  “I suppose Nicholas has told you of my decision,” she said, unable to bear the silence any longer. “I’m sorry if you think I’ve let you down, Uncle, but the truth is, I find the comte’s attentions too awesome. I’m sorry to be so fainthearted and even sorrier that I refused to believe what you said of him earlier.”

  Lord Bromley shook his head. “I originally wanted to see you to applaud your decision,” he said. “When Nicholas told me of it last night, I felt vastly relieved. However, in light of the disturbing news I have just received from Williams, I’m afraid you have jeopardized your own safety. Why, in heaven’s name, did you call on Nicholas this afternoon?”

  “I—I—”

  “No, don’t bother me with petty excuses,” he interrupted testily. “The reason is not important; only the fact that one of the comte’s men followed you is. In view of your comments to the comte last night that you found Nicholas’s attentions an irritation, how will you justify your visit to his lodgings, should the comte ask?”

  “I didn’t think of that,” she murmured contritely.

  “Then it’s as well for you that I did. The comte is not a stupid man, Roberta, and if you see him again, he will find a way to ferret the truth out of you. That is why you will write to him this very minute to say you will be unable to see him as planned. I am sending you to the country for a while.”

  “But Uncle, I do have a plausible reason for my visit,” she said quickly, for although she was unwilling to encourage the comte’s attentions, the thought of being banished to Oxfordshire was equally abhorrent. “Really, I do. One the comte will believe without question.”

  Lord Bromley shook his head. “Don’t even waste your breath, for nothing you say will cause me to change my mind.”

  “Please listen to me,” she pleaded. “Can’t you see that the comte’s suspicions will be aroused if I suddenly disappear? I don’t mind seeing him if I’m properly chaperoned.”

  “Oh, very well!” he said irritably. “Tell me your reason.”

  “It’s quite simple, really. I discovered that Polly was being hounded by one of Nicholas’s servants, and I went to put an end to it. Poor Polly was in such a state, her work was suffering.”

  “Is that the truth?”

  “Not exactly, but it will suffice. Oh, Uncle, don’t you see? The comte would never question that explanation. In fact, it would please him to think that Nicholas’s servants, as well as Nicholas himself, are totally without honor.”

  He eyed her shrewdly for a moment. “The idea is not without merit, I’ll say that much,” he remarked in grudging tones. “I’ll think about it. But no matter what my decision is, if you behave so thoughtlessly again, I will send you to the country immediately. I simply cannot allow you to create unnecessary difficulties for Nicholas.”

  “I won’t; I promise.”

  “Still and all, you are not to go for that ride with the comte, even if Mrs. Ashley agreed to go with you. Receive him here, by all means. If he presses for your advice on the horses, take Williams outside with you and examine them in the square. That should be sufficient hint that after his behavior last night, you are not anxious to encourage his suit.”

  “You are so very sensible, Uncle. I will do as you suggest.”

  She smiled and kissed him on the forehead. “Good night, dear Uncle. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As tired as she was, though, sleep evaded her. Every time she closed her eyes, first Stephen’s face, then Sir Nicholas’s, rose in front of her.

  Was the woman who had felt so disgusted by Stephen’s offer to become his mistress the same one who had lain on the sofa with Sir Nicholas? she wondered.

  By rights, she should be filled with shame for having allowed Sir Nicholas to touch her so intimately. But she wasn’t. She had wanted him and would have given herself gladly. Yet what sort of woman did that make her? For she knew that, had Sir Nicholas taken her, he wouldn’t have offered marriage.

  The answer, she told herself wearily, must be that love was a deeper emotion. And Stephen had defiled the love she felt for him, by his offer. The attraction she felt for Sir Nicholas was not love; therefore, it made it easier for her to accept the fact that she desired him.

  “I don’t know.” She sighed unhappily. “Perhaps, like Sir Nicholas, I lack the ability to sustain a lasting feeling for anyone.”

  Finally, near dawn, she drifted off to sleep.

  It was past ten the next morning before Polly managed to rouse her, and even then, Roberta showed an unusual reluctance to rise.

  “The Frenchman will be here before you’ve completed your toilette, Miss Roberta. And Mrs. Ashley has been asking for you. She said it was urgent.”

  Roberta lay for another five minutes with her eyes closed and then swung her feet out of bed. “Ask Ashley to come in, Polly, please, and then be so good as to fetch me a cup of hot chocolate.”

  She sat down in front of her dressing table and was lazily brushing her hair when Mrs. Ashley entered.

  “Good morning, Roberta; how are you feeling? I was worried about you, my dear. Perhaps you should stay in bed. It’s not like you to be so reluctant to greet the day. You look pale.”

  “Please don’t fuss, Ashley,” Roberta begged. She knew her companion meant well, but she was in no mood for chatter. “As I told Polly, I didn’t sleep very well. I’ll be all right in a while.”

  Mrs. Ashley surveyed her dubiously for a moment. “Well, if you’re certain about that, for there is something most disturbing I must discuss with you. Lord Bromley tells me you accepted an invitation to go for a drive with the comte.”

  “No…no,” Roberta interrupted. “I’m not going.”

  “So I was given to understand. Even so, I can’t understand why you didn’t mention it to me.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you, Ashley. I’m sorry if my thoughtlessness has upset you.”

  “I can only think that you knew I would oppose such a jaunt,” Mrs. Ashley continued, heedless of Roberta’s interruption, “which I was forced to tell Lord Bromley, in case he thought I had been remiss in my duties. I must insist that you discuss your plans with me in future.”

  “Where is my uncle?” Roberta asked wearily, unequal to the task of staying Mrs. Ashley’s tongue.

  “He went out just after breakfast, with someone who looked like Sir Lacey. In fact, I must remember to ask Lord Bromley if it were indeed he.” She broke off when she saw that Roberta was paying no attention, and then added with some asperity, “If only Sir Nicholas would be more dogged in his attentions, I’m sure that dreadful Frenchman would be discouraged.”

  “You are forgetting, Ashley, that Sir Nicholas’s interest in me was a sham.”

  “It’s a pity, for I find him to
be exceptionally worthy. I wouldn’t have believed him capable of the thoughtfulness he displayed at Lady Winthrop’s.” She broke off as Polly entered with the hot chocolate. “I’ll await you in the green salon,” she added before departing.

  As Roberta sipped her drink, her thoughts strayed to Sir Nicholas. “Exceptionally worthy!” she mused, and then laughed. “He should feel honored that he stands so high in Ashley’s estimation.”

  She was still thinking about Sir Nicholas when the comte arrived. He was at his most charming, and bent low over each lady’s hand.

  “Are you ready, ma chérie?” he murmured to Roberta, and frowned when she shook her head.

  “I’m—I’m afraid I don’t feel well enough,” she said. “There was no time for me to send a messenger to tell you of my change in plans. I beseech you to forgive my beggarly manners.”

  His frown deepened, and he looked at her in disbelief.

  “You must blame me, monsieur,” Mrs. Ashley interposed. “I have forbidden Roberta to stray far afield today. She has been overdoing things of late.”

  “I trust you don’t hold me responsible for overtaxing your charge, madam.”

  “No, of course not. If there is any blame, it must be laid at Lord Bromley’s door. He kept Roberta up until the small hours this morning.”

  Roberta shrugged as the comte looked to her for confirmation. “Then I will have to wait until another day for your advice on the horses,” he said.

  “Indeed not,” Roberta responded. “Such is the shame I feel, I have asked our coachman to join me outside so we can all examine them.”

  Mrs. Ashley pursed her lips in disapproval but refrained from commenting. Roberta moved to the bell rope and tugged it. Now that she knew she no longer had to endure the comte’s lovemaking, she felt extraordinarily calm. Perhaps, she thought, when she talked with him outside, she might introduce Mr. Lambert’s name into the conversation. If she were able to report some strange reaction, that would surely prove to Sir Nicholas that she hadn’t been completely cowed by her recent experiences.

  “You rang, Miss Roberta?” the butler inquired patiently.

  “Please ask Williams to join me outside,” she said, “and have Polly bring my cloak and bonnet to me.”

  The butler withdrew.

  Roberta smiled at the comte. “Shall we go?” she asked. He took his leave of Mrs. Ashley and followed Roberta out of the room. “I don’t think your companion approves of my company,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

  “Pay no attention to Ashley,” Roberta said. “She’s merely worried about my health.”

  Polly joined them in the hall and helped Roberta into her cloak; then the comte took Roberta’s arm and led her outside.

  “Do you like the look of the horses?” he asked as his groom sprang to attention. “I think the look is as important as the performance, don’t you?”

  “I most certainly do not, monsieur,” she said emphatically. “Showy horses do not necessarily perform well, and I think the ones you have today will prove my point. Ask your man to walk them a few paces.” She paused as the comte issued some instructions to his servant, and then watched as the man led the horses down the road. Williams joined her and stood awkwardly to one side as she suggested, “Why don’t you bring them back, Williams, and get a feel of them yourself?”

  He grunted and moved away.

  “Although, monsieur,” she continued, “I can tell by the way your coachman is handling them that they have hard mouths, and will prove difficult to control.”

  “And I was convinced you would agree with me,” the comte murmured.

  “But that would have been most unfair of me,” she protested. “You did ask me to give an honest evaluation, didn’t you?”

  The comte nodded. “It is sometimes easier, though, for one to pretend to feelings one doesn’t really have.”

  “Really, monsieur! If that is what you believe, then I am surprised you asked me for my opinion.”

  “Please don’t take offense, Mademoiselle Rushforth. Most women of my acquaintance are not so forthright. And I am glad I asked you for your advice. I will inform Sir Geoffrey that I’m not interested in purchasing his roans, after all.”

  “A wise decision,” Roberta replied. “I know of some other horses that will suit you. I also happen to know that, if you make an offer for them now, you will be able to get them for a reasonable price.”

  “You interest me. I have not heard of such a team to be had in London.”

  “The animals I refer to are not to be found here—yet. An old and dear friend of my uncle’s died recently in Yorkshire, and as executor of the estate, my uncle is putting the entire stables up for sale.”

  “How do I know that these beasts will suit me?” he asked curiously.

  “Ask anyone you wish what they think of Mr. Lambert’s horses,” she responded airily. “He was well known in London for keeping one of the best stables in England.”

  She watched him closely as she spoke and thought she saw his eyes narrow in speculation for a fleeting second.

  “A Mr. Lambert, you say? I don’t think I ever had the pleasure of meeting him.”

  He sounded thoughtful, and Roberta pressed on, determined now to shake his confidence. “That does surprise me,” she said casually, “for he was quite a gadfly in his day. Indeed, he was proud of the fact that he never missed an important social function.”

  “I said I had never met him,” the comte interposed quickly. “But now that you mention it, I do believe I recall his name being spoken by Lady Jersey. A gambler, wasn’t he?”

  Satisfied that she had at least forced him into making that admission, Roberta merely nodded. “He certainly enjoyed the dubious pleasure provided by card games. However, be that as it may, would you like me to inform my uncle that you are interested in seeing the horses? They will be in London next week.”

  “Indeed. You are most kind. Perhaps you will be well enough to ride with me then?”

  Roberta laughed nervously and shook her head. “I have no wish to offend you by my lack of interest in your horses. It’s just that my uncle wouldn’t approve of my venturing so far afield unchaperoned. Indeed, after yesterday, I am most anxious not to overset him further, in case he does as he threatened and sends me to the country.”

  “After yesterday?” he questioned with obvious interest. “What did you do to give Lord Bromley such offense?”

  “I—I—nothing, really. But sometimes he can be a stickler for convention.”

  “You can tell me what you did, Mademoiselle Rushforth,” the comte said. “You know I won’t be shocked.”

  “If you must know, I discovered that my maid was being hounded by one of Sir Nicholas’s servants. The poor girl was in tears and didn’t know what to do.”

  “So you decided to visit this man at Sir Nicholas’s lodgings?”

  There was a note of incredulity in his voice that Roberta ignored. Instead, she nodded firmly. “I know it’s not the thing one normally does, but I could not stand by and let Polly suffer. And I’m pleased to say that my call wasn’t in vain. It was unfortunate for me, though, that my uncle called for carriage before I returned, else he would never have known about what he termed my ‘distressing escapade.’”

  “I’m glad you told me about it,” the comte said quietly. “You see, I was walking down Albemarle Street yesterday and saw you leave Sir Nicholas’s lodgings. I was surprised, as you can well imagine. Especially after what you had told me about your feelings toward Sir Nicholas. Your visiting him didn’t make any sense at all.”

  Roberta’s reaction was to recoil, as though shocked by the implication of his words. “I should think not!” she declared. “Why, I didn’t even inquire whether he was at home, for the only thing on my mind was to insure that his man ceased his pursuit of poor Polly.”

  “Did it not occur to you that Sir Nicholas might have instructed his servant to form that particular connection?”

  “What on earth co
uld he hope to gain by such a move?” she exclaimed. “No, monsieur, I would never consider that a possibility.”

  The comte smiled knowingly, which Roberta didn’t like it at all.

  “You think I’m being silly?” she asked.

  “No, no, ma chérie. It’s just that I can see exactly what Sir Nicholas would hope to gain by such a move. But let us say no more about it. You have resolved your domestic crisis in a most resourceful way, and I commend you.”

  Roberta relaxed slightly and beckoned to Williams. “What is your verdict?” she asked.

  “They’re as mealy-mouthed a pair as you are likely to find,” Williams responded disdainfully. “I wouldn’t want them in my stable.”

  “Mademoiselle’s sentiments exactly,” the comte said. “Please accept my thanks for the trouble you have taken.” He pressed a coin into Williams’s hand, not realizing that his action insulted Williams, and turned his attention back to Roberta. “I will bid you a reluctant farewell, mademoiselle, and look forward to the next time we meet.”

  “Perhaps that will be at Lady Carmichael’s,” Roberta suggested quickly in an effort to hold his attention. She didn’t want him to see the look of outrage on Williams’s face.

  “Unfortunately, no, mademoiselle. I shall be out of town. However, I will definitely return in time to see the horses you spoke of earlier.”

  Roberta allowed a look of disappointment to flit across her face, but, in truth, she was surprised at this piece of information and wondered if Sir Nicholas knew. With a dainty shrug, she said, “Then I will not bother to keep a dance open for you.”

  “But I will insist on standing up with you twice the next time we meet at a rout, which I hope will be Lady Devonshire’s, next week.” He moved closer. “Have you given any thought to what I asked you at Lady Winthrop’s?” he whispered.

  Roberta, taken aback by the directness of his question, bowed her head demurely. “I daren’t, for the present,” she murmured. “If my uncle discovers I have agreed to a secret rendezvous, he will not hesitate to banish me from London.”