Intriguing Lady

by Leonora Blythe

  “I heard someone remark that Lady Carmichael swears on Burke’s Peerage the way others swear on the Bible,” Roberta said with a chuckle. “It would be interesting to know how many of her guests she actually knows.”

  “Not many, I’ll be bound,” Mrs. Ashley said.

  “Which is why everyone seems so jolly and gay.”

  But Mrs. Ashley’s attention had been claimed by a friend, and Roberta’s last observation went unheeded as her companion walked away.

  “So everything appears so very jolly to you, does it, Roberta?”

  She spun round in her chair as she recognized the voice. “Stephen!” she gasped. “I had not expected to see you here. Indeed, one is always surprised to actually meet an old friend at such a gathering.”

  Stephen slid into the seat so recently vacated by Mrs. Ashley and smiled unpleasantly. “Then let us make the most of our time before we are interrupted,” he said.

  “Really, there is nothing I can think of to say that would be of interest to you, Stephen. Is Lady Anita with you tonight?”

  “Her presence will not stay my tongue,” he responded acidly. “She has at last begun to realize that she has to obey me. She will not dare move from her seat until I am ready to escort her home.”

  “Please, Stephen, I cannot like it when you speak so,” Roberta said. “And I’m quite certain Lady Anita would be mortified to hear you talk so scathingly.”

  “’Tis a pity you didn’t show more consideration for my feelings at our last meeting. I will never forgive you for that, Roberta.”

  “For goodness’ sake, don’t make a scene, Stephen. Remember where we are, I beseech you. You are attracting a good deal of attention already.” She looked about the room as she spoke. Her uncle was still engrossed in his conversation with Lady Jersey. Mrs. Ashley was nowhere to be seen.

  “I care nothing for the embarrassment I cause you,” Stephen replied. “In fact, it pleases me immensely to see you put to the blush.”

  Roberta, never having been the target of such hatred before, was nonplussed by the venom in his voice. “Really, Stephen,” she admonished, “I hardly think Lady Carmichael will appreciate your causing such a disturbance. Please leave me alone.”

  She spoke urgently, for she was suddenly gripped by a fear that Sir Nicholas would arrive and try to intervene.

  The pianist came to the end of his program before Stephen could continue to torment her, and he stood up to acknowledge the polite round of applause. Roberta rose, too, and quickly seized the opportunity this distraction provided to join her uncle.

  Stephen stared after her, his top lip raised in a sneer. There was still plenty of time in which to humiliate her.

  Roberta greeted Lady Jersey and her uncle breathlessly, and with a forced smile accepted Lady Jersey’s compliment on her dress.

  “Would you mind excusing my uncle?” she added distractedly. “I must speak with him for a moment.”

  “Take him away, Roberta, by all means, for I declare, my head is spinning from all the compliments he has paid me.”

  Lord Bromley laughed. “But I meant every one of them, Sally,” he declared. He took Roberta by the arm and steered her to a quiet alcove. “You look quite pale, my dear. What has overset you?”

  “Stephen tried to cause a scene,” she whispered. “I’ll be all right in a minute.”

  Lord Bromley looked at her in concern. “The devil, he did! Where was Ashley?”

  “She left my side to speak to an acquaintance, and suddenly he was there. Oh, Uncle, if only I had listened to what you said about him years ago.”

  “Let us not dwell on him any longer, and instead go in search of Nicholas,” Lord Bromley said. “I saw him arrive a few minutes ago, and if we are to still the malicious tongues of the people who witnessed your conversation with Stephen, Nicholas must fawn over you like a veritable popinjay.”

  “Was a man ever so poorly used?” she responded wryly.

  “Never mind,” Lord Bromley said. “In another week, you will be able to reject Nicholas’s advances and will be free to enjoy what is left of the Season.”

  Roberta’s spirits sagged a little at this unwelcome suggestion.

  “Ah! There’s Nicholas.” Lord Bromley raised a hand in salute, and Sir Nicholas strolled over to them.

  “Good evening, Roberta, John. I’m sorry I’m late, but my meeting with Lacey took longer than I expected.”

  “He knows what to do?” Lord Bromley asked softly.

  Sir Nicholas nodded. “And he will endeavor to discover exactly what information our colleagues have passed on to the comte. He will present himself at Grosvenor Square tonight, to report his findings.”

  “Good, good,” Lord Bromley replied. “I have a feeling we will be well served by Lacey.” He broke off as several people passed them. “I think we should enjoy what is left of the evening, don’t you? Take Roberta in to supper, Nicholas, and lavish attention on her. Keep Davenport at arm’s length. Roberta will explain why.” He relinquished his hold on his niece’s arm. “I’ll go in search of Mrs. Ashley, and mayhap we will join you.”

  Roberta stood awkwardly at Sir Nicholas’s side, feeling unaccountably embarrassed by her uncle’s presumption that Sir Nicholas wanted to eat with her.

  “I will understand if you have made other arrangements for supper,” she said.

  Sir Nicholas remained silent, frowning at Lord Bromley’s retreating figure. After a moment, he turned to her and gave her a penetrating look. “Why are you so anxious to be rid of my company?” he asked.

  “You misunderstand me, Nicholas. I will be grateful for any protection you can give me tonight, but any attention you show me will be misconstrued by a large number of people present. I just thought you would wish to avoid being the object of such gossip. My uncle doesn’t understand that.”

  “You are leaving something unsaid. What is the true reason for your agitation? Are you afraid Davenport will cause a scene?”

  Although he quizzed her calmly, his eyes reflected his concern. Roberta looked away in confusion. His solicitude unnerved her, and she found it impossible to voice the fears she had for his safety.

  “It’s Mrs. Ashley’s dream, isn’t it?” he pressed, and nodded his understanding when he felt her shudder. “Please, I beg of you, don’t be uneasy on my account. I will not allow Davenport to mar my evening.”

  “But you don’t understand, Nicholas,” she responded, clutching his arm. “He has already caused me a great deal of embarrassment and—and I know he won’t let it go at that. He’s acting like a man demented.”

  “Roberta, look at me,” he commanded.

  She lifted her head and stared at his dearly familiar smiling face. “Yes, Nicholas?”

  “Smile, please.”

  Her lips twitched, and suddenly she was laughing. “I know you are going to accuse me of being melodramatic,” she said shakily. “But sometimes I can’t help myself.”

  “The trouble with you, my dear Roberta, is that you read too many works of fiction. Look about you. How many people do you see? Nigh on a hundred?” She nodded. “Then explain to me how Davenport can possibly push his way through the throng and create a stir of any consequence. Now, shall we proceed to the tables and see what delights are awaiting us? Perhaps we can even resume the conversation we were having when the comte so rudely interrupted at Lady Winthrop’s. You were, if I remember correctly, about to enlighten me as to the origin of the word idiosyncrasy.”

  “I was?” she queried. “Oh, yes! In connection with your description of the Englishman’s style of waltzing. Dear me, that does seem such a long time ago. I will be delighted to continue that conversation once we are seated.” She laughed lightheartedly, and her last vestige of worry dissipated.

  Sir Nicholas’s benevolent smile hid his deep-rooted concern. He wished he could reassure Roberta that she had nothing more to fear from Stephen Davenport. Unfortunately, the truth was, the man’s presence was a constant menace. His own fears for her well
-being increased, and he wished now that he hadn’t suggested her further complicity in snaring the comte.

  The crowds about the laden tables were three-deep. Even so, Sir Nicholas deftly pushed his way to the front, keeping Roberta closely at his side. She watched admiringly, the seemingly effortless way with which he caught the attention of a lackey. He made everything seem so easy, a sharp contrast to the people surrounding them who were still struggling to be served.

  “I think this should satisfy our immediate pangs of hunger,” he said as the servant handed him two plates filled with lobster salad, ham, oyster patties and game pie. “Follow me, Roberta. I know of a quiet spot where we can eat in peace.”

  “Have you been to Lady Carmichael’s before?” she asked.

  “No. I took the precaution of looking over the premises before I joined you and your uncle. There’s a small chamber just past the drawing room where we won’t be subjected to a lot of curious stares.”

  “Do you always go to such lengths to insure that your téte-à-tétes with ladies are uninterrupted?” It pained her to think he did, for it served to remind her of his reputation as an accomplished flirt.

  “It has become a habit with me,” he responded lightly. “My foresight has usually stood me in good stead.”

  “Which is probably why you have never been discovered in a compromising position,” she said cynically.

  Sir Nicholas allowed this remark to go unanswered as he shouldered his way into the room. It was empty.

  “Pray be seated, Miss Rushforth,” he intoned with the formality of a butler. “I can then serve you your meal.” He put the plates on a nearby table and readied a chair for her.

  “You’re impossible, Nicholas,” she said laughing at his impersonation. “I find I can’t be out of sorts with you for more than five minutes at a time. Your attitude is so nonsensical. Serve me my meal, my good man, immediately.”

  He bowed low as Roberta sat down, and with a great flourish, spread the finely embroidered chair-back cover over her lap in lieu of a napkin. “I trust this small repast meets with your approval, Miss Rushforth. My kitchen staff toiled through the night, preparing it for you.”

  She dimpled, having no difficulty in matching his lighthearted mood, then waved airily to a chair on the opposite side of the room. “Won’t you please join me?”

  “Why, thank you, Miss Rushforth. Your condescension is most gratifying.”

  “And for goodness’ sake, stop addressing me by that name. It makes me feel so old.”

  He looked contrite and seemed about to apologize when another couple entered. “Even the best-laid plans sometimes go awry. I hadn’t anticipated such an intrusion,” he murmured. He nodded pleasantly at the couple and sat down next to Roberta. “You were wishing to discuss the origin of the word—”

  He broke off as a look of consternation spread across Roberta’s face. He looked in the direction of her gaze and swore softly. Stephen Davenport was leaning against the door jamb, staring at them disdainfully.

  Nicholas covered Roberta’s hand with his own and squeezed it reassuringly. “Pretend an indifference to his presence,” he said, “and perhaps he’ll go away.”

  “I think I’ll choke if I have to eat anything,” Roberta replied. “Please take me away.”

  “Of course, Roberta.” He rose and helped her to her feet. “Although I would like to know what has happened to the forceful young lady who managed, single-handedly, to cower the comte in France.”

  Roberta smiled and shrugged helplessly. It was impossible to explain why she had changed, for she didn’t quite understand it herself.

  “Never mind,” he continued calmly. “Act as nonchalantly as you can, my dear girl. When we pass him, look up at me and laugh as if in response to something I said.” She gripped his arm tightly, and they moved toward the door. With exaggerated politeness, Sir Nicholas paused by the other couple and bowed. He bid them a good evening and then continued toward Stephen, bending over Roberta as though listening to something she was saying. In reality, he was trying to shield her. Just as they drew level with Stephen, he threw back his head and laughed. Roberta looked at him quizzically for a moment and then joined in. “I told you it was nonsensical,” Sir Nicholas said, “but that really is the way some people conduct themselves.”

  “I think it quite shocking,” Roberta responded. “I would feel mortified if that happened to me.”

  They had passed Stephen by now, and Roberta breathed a sigh of relief. “And now, if you don’t mind, Nicholas, I think it high time I went in search of my uncle and Ashley. Excuse me, please.”

  “You’d be a damned fool if you did, Sir Nicholas,” Stephen said as he swaggered up behind them. “Too many people have excused her from too many things. It’s about time she was rightly served.”

  “You are a foolish drunkard, Davenport,” Sir Nicholas said coldly. “This time, I will excuse your behavior, but never again presume to address me in such a fashion.”

  “What do you know about anything?” Stephen demanded. “She’s drawn a spider’s web over your eyes, as she did mine. You’re the fool, Sir Nicholas, not me. I know her for what she is.”

  Sir Nicholas’s eyes blazed angrily as Roberta tried to pull him away. “I demand that you apologize to Miss Rushforth immediately,” he said, shaking off her hand. “I cannot allow your insults to go unchallenged.”

  “Please, Nicholas, it doesn’t matter,” Roberta murmured anxiously. “He’s deliberately trying to provoke you. Take heed of your advice to me. Ignore him, and perhaps he will go away.”

  “Don’t tell me you are going to let her ride over you in such a fashion,” Stephen sneered. “Isn’t it about time you took a stand?”

  “I have taken a stand, Davenport, and I’m still awaiting your apology,” Sir Nicholas responded coldly. “Do you make one or not?”

  “Your concern for the lady’s feelings is quite touching, but I’m damned if I can see why you should be so bothered. She is, as all of London knows, the one who jilted me, and will now, quite obviously, remain on the shelf for the rest of her life.”

  “Stephen!” Roberta exclaimed in horror. “How can you be so cruel?” She swayed against Sir Nicholas, oblivious to the crowd that had started to gather.

  “You had best retract your words, Davenport,” Sir Nicholas said quietly.

  “What right do you have to demand such a thing?”

  “I asked Miss Rushforth, not fifteen minutes ago, to become my wife. That, I think, gives me the right to demand an apology from you.” He grasped Roberta firmly about the waist, giving credence to his claim, and smiled at her. “Well, Davenport?”

  Roberta returned his smile tremulously, a sudden surge of joy making her heart beat rapidly at the prospect, nay, even the possibility of marrying Sir Nicholas. Almost as swiftly, though, her smile faded as she was forced to acknowledge it had not been a true declaration, merely a ploy to avoid embarrassment to her.

  Her spirits sagged, and she wondered how she had managed to delude herself as to her true feelings for so long.

  “Do I have to ask you again, Davenport?” Sir Nicholas’s voice, clipped in anger, brought Roberta to her senses.

  There was only one thing to do, she thought, before the ugly scene turned into a nightmare, and that was to persuade Sir Nicholas to take her back to Lord Bromley immediately.

  “I—I—don’t believe you,” Stephen blustered even as Roberta tugged at Sir Nicholas’s sleeve. “Is it really so, Roberta?”

  The crowd seemed to hold its breath as it waited for Roberta’s response, and then sighed its disappointment when, instead of answering Stephen, she turned to Sir Nicholas and in a firm, clear voice asked if they could not go in search of her uncle. “And I can only hope,” she added, drawing on the last reserves of her strength, “that we will not be subjected to another of Stephen’s Cheltenham Tragedies.”

  Much to her relief, Sir Nicholas nodded. But he gave her cause for further concern when he halted and turned
back to face Stephen.

  “I will deal with you later, Davenport,” he said.

  “Please, Nicholas,” Roberta begged. “Let us go now.”

  The crowd parted with some reluctance to allow Sir Nicholas and Roberta to pass, and broke out in excited chatter when they had disappeared from view. Stephen slipped away, unnoticed.

  Roberta allowed Sir Nicholas to guide her along the passage. Tears of rage and frustration pricked her eyelids, making it impossible for her to see clearly, although, her mortification at the insults Stephen had flung at her was as nothing, compared to her fear for Sir Nicholas’s safety. She was convinced the comte was behind Stephen’s deplorable behavior.

  Sir Nicholas felt her distress keenly, but wisely did not express his concern. “It puzzled me, Roberta, what attraction Davenport held for you,” he said in bracing tones. “I find him to be the most tedious of men.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” she responded in a small voice. “But, Nicholas, I do wish you hadn’t compromised yourself so on my account.”

  “I have done nothing of the sort,” he said. “And, what is more, I am still awaiting your acceptance of my proposal.”

  “I—I cannot. You know that. However, I shall be eternally grateful for your intervention.” She gave him a watery smile before continuing. “Please, please promise me you won’t seek an apology from Stephen. I’m truly afraid of the consequences.”

  “I will on the condition that you don’t reject my suit, at least for a while. I’m of the mind that we will manage to overcome any gossip if we stay together.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Roberta said unhappily.

  “Then I think you should let your uncle decide. Here he is now.”

  “Good heavens, Nicholas, what is this I hear?” Lord Bromley asked as he hurried up to them. “Some wild rumor has just reached the library, that you have proposed to Roberta.”

  Sir Nicholas nodded. “And I’m depending on you to persuade your niece to accept,” he said with a laugh.

  “Well, I have just left Ashley proclaiming to all her cronies that she’s not in the least bit surprised by the news,” Lord Bromley returned. “So, naturally, I had to pretend an equal lack of astonishment.”