Lisette hesitated. Surely she had not overlooked an engagement? Garvey was handing the reins to his tiger and jumping lightly down. She glanced at Strand. His face was devoid of expression, but the smile had left his eyes.
"Surely you err, Garvey," he said, a pronounced sardonic ring to his voice. "Miss Van Lindsay could not have forgot so impressive a gentleman as yourself.''
Garvey flushed a little, but at once riposted, "There, you see, ma'am? Even Strand knows a real gentleman when he sees one."
Lisette stifled a gasp. Strand stiffened, and Bolster, who had watched this dangerous interchange uneasily, walked to his side. "C-come on, old f-f-f-" he said urgently.
"Fellow," Garvey finished for him, and stepped forward.
A large, growling, and muscular bulldog was suddenly between the group and the advancing Corinthian. Strand snapped, "Brutus!" and the dog checked, but did not relax his threatening mien.
Garvey also halted. "Gad, Miss Van Lindsay." He looked straight into Strand's cold eyes. "I believe you were right when you said 'twas a most unattractive creature!"
Beneath his tan, Strand was very pale, but those blue eyes fairly blazed, and the jut of his jaw was alarming. Lisette felt Judith's trembling hand slip into her own. In another moment there would be a challenge—and she the cause! She dared not offend Strand, and had no wish, to hurt Garvey, and therefore said quickly, "Do you know, sir, you are mistaken. My engagement was to drive in the park with you this afternoon—not this morning."
"True," lied Garvey, wrenching his eyes from Strand to smile down at her. "But—c'est tragique—I find I am unable to be in Town this afternoon. Can you deny me?" His contemptuous gaze returned to Strand. "Under the circumstances?"
"Oh, very well." Lisette glanced to the scared Judith. "But, my sister—"
"Why, Bolster's a good fellow," said Garvey. "He will see Miss Judith safely home."
The slight was as cutting as it was obvious. Bolster frowned, but Strand ignored it and declared, "We will be most happy to escort your sister home, ma'am. The price you must pay is to allow me the time Garvey has relinquished this afternoon."
Garvey scowled, but before he could speak, Lisette turned and held out her books. "Thank you so much, Mr. Strand. In that case, will you be so kind as to take these home for me?"
Strand accepted the books. He was still pale and his eyes savage with anger, but he said in a controlled voice, "Gladly. I shall call at three."
It was earlier than was customary, but the weather was still too cool to make a later drive desirable. Lisette nodded, gave her hand to Garvey, and was assisted into the vehicle. Garvey took up the reins. His tiger released his hold on the bridles of the team, sprang back, then made a dash for the back of the phaeton as it rolled past. He clambered onto his perch and sat like a graven image, arms folded and back ramrod straight.
"The impertinence of that beastly fellow!" fumed Garvey. "I may find it necessary to teach him a lesson in manners!"
Very conscious of the pair of small ears behind them, Lisette was silent, If such a man as Mr. Garvey could really have been her champion, how gratefully she would allow him to shoulder her burdens. But in this situation, no one could help. Stifling a sigh, she said softly, "I could wish you had not repeated my remark about Brutus. I fear Mr. Strand may have placed a wrong interpretation upon it."
"I certainly hope he did! Oh, I know it was very bad in me, but truly, I could not resist. And if it should drive him off, it will have been worthwhile. I admit most of London's bachelors are my rivals, but that particular individual I will not tolerate! Some of the things I hear— And that such as he would have the gall to pursue so pure and highly born a—"
"Sir!" Lisette interpolated. "Your servant!"
"Who?" He glanced over his shoulder at the boy. "Lion?"
Lisette laughed softly. "Your tiger's name is Lion? But, how quaint!"
"I must have named him with a premonition that someday it would cause you to laugh in just that delightful way," he murmured. Lisette blushed. She said nothing, but Garvey sensed her embarrassment and said, "Never worry, dear lady, he would never betray me. Would you, Lion?"
" 'Slight, sir," said Lion woodenly.
"You'd not dare, you young rogue!" Garvey grinned. "At all events, ma'am, I must not complain of Strand's despicable conduct, since it has enabled me to have you here, beside me. Only see how the sun came out today—purely to shine on your beauty." He peered down at her. "I am most grateful you came.
"You must suppose me to be fast, I fear. But—you both seemed so angry, and I could not bear to be the cause of real ill feelings."
They turned into the park and, slowing his team, Garvey said grimly, "You are not, ma'am. What I feel for Justin Strand goes beyond— But enough of him! Likely you would prefer to walk for a little?" He drove along beside the Serpentine, then pulled the team to a halt and tossed the reins to the small Lion. "Walk 'em!" he said tersely, and springing out, reached up to aid Lisette from the vehicle.
He led her along a winding path until they came to a secluded seat, away from the water and the more travelled areas. It was improper, she knew, to be alone with him like this, but her heart was so heavy she scarcely heeded that knowledge. For a few minutes they sat in silence. Glancing up then, she saw Garvey patiently watching her. "Oh, your pardon!" she apologized. "I fear my thoughts wandered."
"And sadly." He took up one small, gloved hand. "Miss Van Lindsay, will you do me the honour to confide in me? What has brought such sorrow to those lovely eyes?"
"Sir—I am indeed grateful, but—"
"If you are truly grateful, then—oh, pray forgive if I rush matters. But from the very first moment I saw you—"
Appalled, she tried to free her hand. "No, do not. Please. You must not."
"How can I help myself? When first I called at your house I had no suspicion I was about to be dealt a leveller. I had thought only to—" He stopped, as though having been betrayed into saying more than he'd intended, then rushed on in a voice husky with emotion. "You are thinking I should speak to your father, and indeed I mean to do so. Ah, my dearest, most adored of ladies, can you not know how hopelessly I am fallen in love with you?"
The pleading intensity, the glowing warmth in his eyes vouched for his sincerity. Remotely, Lisette wondered why she felt trapped and afraid, instead of being delighted. It must, she thought, be because of the circumstances and her dread of wounding him. She drew her hand away. "No, oh, never say so! Truly, I had no thought to bring you sadness!"
He stiffened. "I am to be refused, then? I see." And in a tight, restrained fashion, "I should not ask, I know. But—is there someone else?"
She wrung her hands, wishing she had never come with him.
"Yes. No! That is—oh, I cannot say, but—but I am not free to—"
"Not free?" he echoed harshly. "No, by God! And not happy, either! You are not officially betrothed, but someone hounds you. Is that it?"
Her eyes stinging with sudden tears, Lisette shook her head.
Garvey again captured her hand and held it tightly despite her efforts to pull away. "You are being intimidated, I'll lay odds! Who dares to frighten you? If it is that wretched Strand—I've seen him go into your house several times. I knew he was about some devilment, but—"
"You have seen him?" she echoed unsteadily. "But how can this be? Have you been watching my home?"
He smiled ruefully. "Day and night, dear lady. I fairly haunt the neighbourhood. Just to be close to you brings me joy—even though you do not guess I am there."
Overwhelmed by such devotion, she blinked. "Oh—how dreadful! I had not realized your affections were so deeply engaged."
"They are. And thus I implore that you do not speak with such finality. Am I to be denied all hope? What is the hold he has over you? Do you love him? Lisette, please tell me if that is so, and I'll—I'll not trouble you further."
She said miserably, "I have not named Justin Strand, sir. Or—any other gentleman. My�
��my future is arranged. I can… say no more."
His voice low and throbbing with anger, he declared, "Strand was right! It is that same filthy idol—the god of gold! I never thought when he bragged—" He checked, bit his lip, and grated, "Forget I said that."
Horrified by his verification of Beatrice's warning, Lisette cried, "Strand bragged—in your hearing, sir? About—me?"
"I should not," he muttered. "But—oh, devil take him! If I hear him boast one more time that money can buy anything, I—" Again, he mastered himself, and did not complete the threat.
With tears of shame and rage glistening on her lashes, Lisette whispered, "Then, it was truth!"
"He does hound you, doesn't he? By heaven, I'll call him to account, the encroaching mushroom! And rid you of him."
Lisette was so distressed as to feel actually sick, but she fought off the sensation. It was not beyond the realm of possibility that Garvey would do just as he said. He had been out before, she knew, and was considered very dangerous. Quite apart from her natural horror of duelling, it would be to no avail. If he was wounded or slain she would have an even heavier weight on her heart, and if he killed Strand, not only would she consider herself to blame, but the man's affairs would certainly pass to his sister. The Van Lindsays would get short shrift from that jade, and thus be in even worse case. She therefore begged that Garvey not even think of so dreadful a thing. "It must only make matters worse. And besides, there are other considerations that I cannot reveal to you, that would make such a tragedy pointless."
Garvey's green eyes were very empty all at once. "Other considerations? Such as, ma'am?"
Lisette gave a weary gesture. "As I said, I cannot discuss them. Please take me home now, or my—"
He leaned closer, demanding, "What other considerations? Your father has been listening to idle gossip, perhaps? My friends do not please him—is that the sum of it?''
Lisette made as if to stand but, infuriated, he so far forgot himself as to catch her wrist and 'pull her back. "Perhaps I should speak with—"
A brightly coloured ball bounced around the bend, closely followed by a little boy in grass-stained nankeens. Lisette seized her opportunity and stood as two nursemaids wheeled their small charges along the path. She walked rapidly away, keeping her head slightly averted, praying they might not recognize her.
Her hope was vain.
"Oho!" breathed one of the nursemaids, her plump features wreathed in a grin. "If Miss hoity-toity Van Lindsay's his latest flirt, the cat's in with the chicks, and no mistaking!"
" 'Ere," said her friend, eagerly. "Oo was it, Ada? I know 'er, a'course. But oo was the genle'man?"
Ada imparted with relish, "That there 'gentleman,' me dear Flo, was none other than James Garvey! Him as is a bosom bow of our Florry Sell!"
"Our oo?" asked Flo, her brow furrowing.
"Ow, come on, Flo! You know who Florrey Sell is. Our Prince, duck."
"Prince? Oh, you mean George? Wot did you call 'im?"
"Florrey Sell! Lawks sake! Ain't you never heard that? It's what they called him when he was young and fair."
Flo uttered a disparaging snort. "Fairly fat, if you ask me!"
"The point is that Garvey's thicker 'n thieves with him. And you know what they say about the Regent!"
"No," breathed Flo, her eyes very wide. "Oo does?"
"Ow! Flo!"
Lisette entered the house through the areaway and asked Cook to send a light luncheon to the breakfast room. She further astonished that lady by washing her hands at the kitchen sink, for she had no wish to be seen by any member of the family until her nerves were quieter. She took off her bonnet and shawl in the breakfast room and ate her luncheon in solitude, her thoughts on the shocking truths James Garvey had divulged. She tried not to dwell on Strand's infamy. He was no gentleman, which she should have realized at all events, and to expect him to behave like one must only court disappointment and deepen her dislike of the man she was apparently doomed to wed. Garvey had apologized for his anger, but once they were in the phaeton, neither had spoken until they reached Portland Place. Lisette had stolen an occasional glance at him and discovered a pale face and frowning brow, the green eyes brooding. He had escorted her to the door, shaken her hand and said his goodbyes very properly, but the grimness had persisted, and she was left with a dread of what he meant to do.
She had no intention of mentioning his declaration, but it was evident that Judith had spoken of the earlier encounter, for when Lisette started up the stairs, her father called her down again and into his study, where he asked if she wished that he warn Garvey off. Something in his daughter's wan expression alerting him, he demanded, "What? Has he had the impertinence to address you?"
She pointed out, "You must remember, Papa, that at first you were all that was amiable. We can scarce expect the poor man to comprehend why our attitude has changed. He has been very kind, and—"
"Kind, d'ye call it? To subject two ladies to that disgraceful fiasco this morning? I call it damnably rag-mannered. Little Judith was still frightened when she come home, though Strand had done what he might to calm her. Had he not kept himself in hand, Lord only knows where things might have led! I'll be dashed if I don't begin to think well of that young fella!"
Relieved that his attention had strayed from the offending Garvey, Lisette pleased her papa by informing him that Mr. Strand intended to call, to take her driving.
"Then you will want to change your dress," he said, accompanying her to the stairs. "And I fancy Judith is waiting to speak with you. She is in the parlour. With Beatrice."
Lisette's pause was barely perceptible. Walking on, she thought that this day showed little promise of improving. Beatrice could be charming when she chose, however, and was evidently in good spirits, because upon entering the parlour, Lisette found her sisters laughing merrily together.
"Here you are at last!" exclaimed Beatrice, standing to give her a peck on the cheek. "Such an age you have been! But Judith has kept me entertained with her account of this wicked novel she has been reading. What Mama would say I dare not guess, but I could not keep from laughing when she told me of Sir Montague. She says his description fairly matches Justin Strand—tall and bony, with evilly glistening eyes. Is she not a naughty little puss so to mock him?"
"And ungrateful!" Lisette flashed an angry glare at Judith. "You forget, do you not, that Mr. Strand was so kind as to escort you home this morning?"
"Well, I did not need his offices," declared Judith, her nose in the air. "Lord Bolster and Brutus were sufficient of an escort. And besides, not only is Mr. Strand socially beneath us, but he's not near so handsome as Mr. Garvey."
Beatrice laughed, but Lisette exclaimed, "For shame! Whatever else he may be"—and little did they know how low!—"he is a—a friend of my father. And Grandmama thinks the world of him!"
"Scarcely a glowing recommendation." Beatrice sat on the sofa again, and tittered, "Lud, girl, why do you rage at us? One might almost think you were becoming fond of the creature."
"Then one would be most foolish! It is simply that I cannot abide unkindness. Which reminds me, I had thought you were going back to Somerset with William?"
"Oh, he went back." Beatrice shrugged. "But I decided to stay in town for a while. I am invited to visit Dorothy Haines-Curtis. She is upset because she was obliged to send Harry Redmond about his business. The Redmonds are bankrupted, you know, so she is well rid of him. And why my plans should be any of your bread and butter, I cannot guess."
Lisette, who was fond of Sir William, fixed her with a cold stare. "Can you not?"
Beatrice's eyes fell. She stood, exclaiming, "I declare, I cannot be in this house above an hour without coming to cuffs with someone! Nobody cares how I feel—nor what my life is like in that lonely old house… miles from any excitement!" With tears coming into her dark eyes, she said on a sob, "Nobody even tries to understand!" And with a flounce of silks, she sped from the room.
Lisette turned
to Judith. "I think it will be as well, dear, if we forget what Beatrice just said. She likely does not mean it."
"Oh, yes, she does. She is bored. She doesn't like that house in Somerset. And I doubt she likes William very much, either." Abandoning the air of sophisticated languor she had copied from Beatrice, Judith now bounced up, saying with ghoulish appreciation, "Was that not a famous confrontation this morning? I was sure Mr. Strand was going to take off his glove and cast it in Mr. Garvey's teeth! How thrilling that would have been! I probably would have fainted away."
Lisette said dryly, "So might Mr. Strand. I hear James Garvey is a dead shot!"
Chapter 5
Promptly at three o'clock Mr. Justin Strand was announced and at once strode swiftly into the drawing room. Lisette had been idly turning the pages of Ladies Magazine and looked up, startled, schooling her features into a smile that died a'borning. In anticipation of a carriage ride, she had donned a high-necked gown of cream silk, the bodice overlaid with ecru lace, and had selected a fine straw bonnet with a high poke trimmed in the same shade of lace. Mr. Strand, however, was dressed very formally in an impressive dark brown velvet jacket, fawn knee breeches, and a magnificent cravat in which a great topaz gleamed. Not a little dismayed, she rose as he marched across the room to halt before her.
"Good afternoon," she faltered, holding out her hand. "I must thank you, Mr. Strand, for your—your understanding this morning. And for escorting my sister home. Perhaps I should call my mother. I'd not realized you meant to come up, and—''
His clasp was firm, brief, and icy cold. "And it is improper to be alone with me," he said in his brusque way. "I know. That is why I asked the footman not to announce me until I was up here. There is something I must discuss with Mr. Van Lindsay. I am told he is at home, but first, I must know. Miss Lisette—have you taken me in aversion?"
With the moment of truth upon her, she stared at him in blank shock. He was a little pale, and the thick light hair with its tendency to turn upwards at the ends was rumpled as though he had run a nervous hand through it. Those intense eyes seemed to burn through her defences so that she lowered her own and lied, "Why, no. But—but, I know you so slightly, sir. It is very—er, soon to—to—"
Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 07] - Married Past Redemption Page 7