Countess So Shameless (Scandal in London)

by Liana Lefey

  “Why on earth would anyone choose to display such a horrid thing?” Mélisande exclaimed with quiet revulsion.

  Their audience was a pair of young ladies. Even at a distance, Alessandro immediately recognized one of them. There could be no mistaking the pile of fiery red curls that bobbed as Lady Lydia Hampton bent to whisper in her companion’s ear.

  A soft, high-pitched titter echoed back down the hall.

  Ignoring it, the couple ducked into the library to join the others in games until the last dance. They’d be safe from prying eyes there.

  The moment the door closed behind them, Mélisande seemed to relax. The sight of Stamma hunched over a chessboard by the fire brought a smile to her lips.

  He looked up as they entered, his face brightening.

  “No, don’t get up,” Mélisande called, waving him back down.

  The chair opposite was empty. In fact, there were very few people in the room. A trio of gentlemen played cards at another table and a footman stood nearby. Otherwise, the place was deserted. Taking the seat across from her friend, she observed the board.

  Alessandro noted that he’d laid out the pieces to replicate his game with Philidor.

  “I see you’re still ruminating over that old game,” Mélisande grumbled, wriggling deep into the thickly padded chair. Her shoes dropped to the floor one by one as she tucked her feet beneath her skirts, relaxing against the back of the chair with a long, contented sigh.

  Alessandro smiled inwardly, finding her blatant disregard for convention endearing. Apparently, Stamma was used to her contrary behavior as well, for the man didn’t even bat an eyelash. Flashing his opponent a brief smile, the master reached out to move the white king’s side bishop.

  Mélisande took over for black and made her move, a deliberate variation from the game Philidor had played.

  For a long while, the only sounds were those of the pieces clicking across the board, the fire crackling in the hearth, and the low murmurs of the men playing cards in the corner. They played twice more. By checkmate of their third game, several more people had trickled silently into the room to watch.

  Throughout, Mélisande made no move to adjust her dress or posture. She appeared completely at ease, curled into her chair with her toes peeping out from beneath the edge of her gown, a faint smile playing about her mouth as she pitted her wits against those of her renowned opponent.

  The fact that she was able to comfortably ignore her observers and concentrate well enough to win the last game spoke to the sharpness and self-discipline of her mind. Alessandro was again impressed.

  Stamma broke the long silence. “That was a new strategy, Melly. I wasn’t aware you’d been studying other styles of play.”

  She smiled sweetly, giving him an impish wink. “It is always good to study the paths one’s enemy tends to take, the better to catch him in an ambush.”

  The men in the room chuckled, including Stamma. Just then a footman entered and announced the last dance of the evening would be played in one quarter of an hour.

  Mélisande uncoiled, reaching down for her shoes, but Alessandro got to them first. Quick as lightning he snatched them away, eyes twinkling as he knelt at her feet.

  “May I?”

  “Am I Cendrillon, then?” she laughed. “And are you my prince?”

  “I am indeed, but I need no crystal slipper to lead me to my heart’s desire,” Alessandro whispered, grinning as he grasped one of her slim ankles. Gently, he slid the shoe onto her slender foot with a bold caress.

  Eyes afire, Mélisande lifted her other foot.

  Stamma chattered on about chess and some of the personages he’d met on his travels throughout Europe, ignorant of the fact that neither of his companions were listening to a word he said.

  Back in the ballroom, they found Pelham, Stanton, and Miss Charlotte chatting with Lady Angelica and Miss Doulton. The mischief Alessandro had set into motion was already coming to fruition, for Angelica gazed at Reggie with calf eyes, while her little lavender-eyed friend looked at Pelham as if she’d like to eat him with a spoon. When her would-be rival grew distracted by their approach, he noted how Charlotte took the opportunity to station herself at Pelham’s side. By the time Miss Doulton took note, her stealthy takeover was fait accompli.

  Mélisande nudged Alessandro gently.

  “But what of you?” he whispered, a sharp stab of disappointment piercing him at the thought of having to give up even a single moment with her.

  Her lips firmed in denial, condemning him to the sacrifice. At the last minute, however, he was saved by an eager young man who boldly broached their circle to beg the privilege of Miss Doulton’s last dance.

  With one last regretful glance at Pelham, the girl accepted.

  Alessandro floated Mélisande through the steps of the quadrille, the music swirling around them, the colors and sounds of the ball blending as in a dream until all they could see was each other. The last note sang out on the violin strings, and while everyone else called praises to the host and hostess, the pair slipped out onto the terrace.

  The air was cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the swelter and closeness of the ballroom. Together they breathed in the fresh air, listening to the haunting cries of the peacocks calling from the lawn, watching the footmen put out the lanterns lining the garden paths. One by one, the lights winked out like stars fleeing the dawn, leaving only darkness behind.

  “I would like to call on you tomorrow.”

  “People will think you’re courting me if you call so soon after tonight’s display,” she teased, her lips curving.

  “Would that be so bad?” The words had slipped out before he’d had a chance to think them through. What had possessed him to say such a thing? He barely knew her, and what he did know made his question seem very foolish indeed. She’d made it clear she didn’t want a husband. “It would most certainly save us a great deal of trouble, should we ever be caught in a compromising situation,” he added, attempting to justify himself. “And when you tire of my company, you may publicly toss me out on my ear.”

  “We will not be caught,” she assured him. “If you wish to call at my residence, you may, but I think it better for you to do so as a friend, like David or Monsieur Stamma. If people thought I’d accepted you as a suitor, I would have every unmarried man in England knocking on my door all over again,” she grumbled. “We must be discreet. I’ll begin making arrangements immediately.”

  “I look forward to the day,” Alessandro murmured. “However”—he moved in behind her—“should you find yourself unwilling to wait until that time arrives, simply send word and I shall call at your window.”

  “First I was Cendrillon, now I am to be Juliet? Alas, my dear Romeo, I believe climbing the trellis an unnecessary risk to both your neck and my reputation. A suitable location will be ready within the week, a place where we may take our time in comfort and privacy.”

  Alessandro knew when to concede. The message was clear: she wanted to be in control. He smiled softly into the darkness. “Until tomorrow, then, Countess,” he said, taking her hand from the railing to place a soft kiss on its palm before laying it over his arm and leading her back inside to find her companions.

  Every time his eyes met Mélisande’s as they awaited the carriage, he felt a silent calling between them. It sang in his blood and hummed in his bones.

  Finally it was time. She smiled back at him as he handed her up into the carriage, her eyes twin glimmers of torchlight reflected back at him from the darkness. The footman shut the door, and in a clatter of hooves and creaking of wheels, she was gone.

  Another pair of eyes followed Mélisande’s departure: eyes filled with cold fury. Jaw clenched, Herrington turned before Gravina could catch him staring.

  She deliberately taunted him, luring other men into her nets while snubbing only him.

  Slowly, breath by breath, serenity reinstated itself. Let the temptress shake her feathers with her ridiculous Italian plaything, for no
w. Once his suspicions were proven to be truth, her little game would be over. Then the witch’d have to play according to his rules.

  He had only to wait for word from Whitehurst. The ship should reach France by the end of the week. Once his man reached Versailles, it was only a matter of time.

  PLANS WITHIN PLANS

  MÉLISANDE COUNTED THE seconds as they rolled away from Ludley’s house. Any moment now...

  “Melly, I was thinking perhaps Charlie might stay with Reggie and me for the remainder of the Season,” David said, his tone casual. “Your offer to oversee her debut was a generous one, and I know you enjoy each other’s company, but it may be better for her to remain under her brother’s care, considering recent developments.”

  “Allow me to reassure you that Charlotte’s interests remain paramount in my considerations,” Mélisande replied. She knew exactly why David was making such an offer, and it nettled. Though she might be putting her own future at risk, she had no intention of risking Charlotte’s.

  Perhaps it might not be so bad if people thought Alessandro a legitimate suitor after all. As long as he behaved himself appropriately, no one would be the wiser. Her own reputation might suffer a bit from the appearance of blind stupidity, but she would be excused for having had a temporary lapse of judgment over a handsome face. It was a perfectly acceptable price to pay to preserve Charlotte’s good name.

  And when it was time, she’d do exactly as he’d suggested and toss him to the dogs in front of God and all of creation.

  Her mind worked, piecing the plan together. As long as their public interactions were conducted with all due propriety, it would work. If he ever grossly misbehaved, however, she’d have no choice but to end all visible association. A chaperone who allowed a man to take liberties with her person might signify a possible lack of chastity in her charge, and that was something she could not allow. The stain of such a scandal would never be fully washed off.

  “Should the circumstances warrant it, I swear to you that I will ask that Charlotte be removed from my house,” Mélisande countered. “I will request her relocation before I allow my actions to endanger her good name. You have my word. I have no desire to be the cause of her ruination.”

  “Ruination?” asked Charlotte. “Reggie, David—what on earth is she talking about?”

  In the pitch black of the carriage’s interior, Mélisande touched the tip of her slipper to David’s foot in warning. “His Grace has asked permission to court me, Charlotte. And I have given it. His reputation is the source of David’s concern.”

  “But, but—you hardly know the man!” Charlotte gasped. “You’ve only just met! How can you even consider accepting?”

  “Actually, I met him years ago, in Versailles.” Mélisande patted the concerned little hand that had found its way onto her arm. “Upon meeting again tonight, we discovered our feelings for one another remain unchanged.”

  Charlotte’s mouth hung open. “You never mentioned an unrequited love to me.”

  Mélisande winced at her assumption of love, but let it go. “My parents had commanded me to stay away from him, Charlotte. I was terrified that he would speak of me to his friends and reveal my disobedience, so I gave him a false surname. Then I couldn’t figure out how to tell him the truth. We left Versailles so quickly that I never had a chance to do so. I dared not tell Maman and Papa about him. I held my tongue out of cowardice.”

  “How awful,” whispered Charlotte.

  “He told me tonight that once he realized I was gone, he searched for me, but to the few people in Versailles who knew of my existence, I was Mademoiselle Compton, not d’Orleans.” Mélisande patted Charlotte’s hand again, laughing a little. “I can only guess that heaven must intend for us to be together, for Providence has reunited us against all odds. I could not accept his proposal immediately, of course, but I have given him permission to court me.”

  “And how do you intend to avoid Charlotte’s becoming caught up in your scandalous romance?” David interrupted, spoiling the moment. “The man’s reputation is well-known.”

  “Really, David, you worry overmuch,” Mélisande answered, wanting to throttle the sarcasm right out of him. “As long as he behaves properly, there is no danger. I shall speak with him and explain the situation. He is a gentleman, and I’m certain he shall conduct himself appropriately.”

  David’s disbelieving chuckle sounded across the blackness. “It isn’t his behavior that concerns me, Melly. He’s predictable, at best. However, your actions tonight, specifically your little disappearing act, bespoke an extreme lack of good judgment,” he admonished. “You’ll be lucky if you aren’t painted a strumpet in tomorrow’s papers.”

  “Word of his suit should remedy any untoward presumptions,” Mélisande countered. “As for my conduct, I shall be a paragon of proper behavior, I assure you.”

  David’s soft, derisive laughter floated back to her from the shadows. “Yes, I can well imagine. But you’d best be careful when not in public, as well. If you get caught—”

  “Then I shall deal with the consequences!” Mélisande aimed a swift kick at his shin with the pointed toe of her jewel-encrusted shoe. His responding grunt of pain was most satisfying.

  “What do you mean ‘get caught’?” asked Charlotte.

  Much to everyone’s surprise, Reggie answered her. “They intend to become lovers, Charlotte. Before the wedding takes place.”

  “Reggie,” began Mélisande, “I don’t think it quite—”

  At the same time, David growled, “That isn’t precisely how I’d have p—”

  “What difference does it make?” Charlotte’s irritated voice rose above the hubbub. “They are to be married, after all.”

  “What difference?” exclaimed her brother, sounding much put out. “Clearly, our mother left several gaps in your education. Important ones!”

  “Winifred’s sister told her that it’s quite common for couples to indulge in certain intimacies before the vows are spoken,” Charlotte said in an urbane manner, dismissing his concerns.

  “Winifred’s sister is a complete—”

  “Why should Melly be held to a different standard than half the people we know, including our own parents?” she continued, ignoring him. “I can count, you know. A few years ago, I realized your birthday came a good deal earlier than it ought. By some two months, I believe. I’m no fool to believe you were simply ‘eager for this world,’ as mother put it when I asked.”

  “Charlotte.” His voice had taken a definite edge.

  “I know you think me a sheltered ninny, Reggie, but the truth is that I’m not nearly as ignorant as you think. I’ve grown up with you and David, after all,” she laughed, sounding far older than her years.

  “I’m not entirely sure what you mean, Charlotte, but if you imply that I have been anything less than a shining example of gentlemanly behavior in your presence, I shall take great offense,” Reggie huffed. “And if you imply that Pelham has behaved inappropriately, I shall be forced to call him out, so think carefully before you speak.”

  “I imply nothing of the sort,” Charlotte admonished. “Reggie, I’ve been hearing of David’s adventures since I was ten. Our parents whispered about his behavior when they thought I wasn’t listening, my friends have relayed all manner of interesting tales, and if that isn’t enough, his mistresses were the talk of the powder room at tonight’s ball! At least until the waltz,” she added peevishly.

  She struck the final blow before he could counter. “You ought to know your own conduct of late hasn’t been viewed favorably, either. Winifred told me tonight that your reputation is almost as bad as David’s now.”

  “Me?” Reggie sputtered. “What have I ever done that could possibly even begin to measure with Pelham’s level of degeneracy? If you’re going to make comparisons, choose someone other than the devil himself for my rival!”

  “Have a care,” said David.

  “You bloody well know it’s true!” Reggie retorted.r />
  “How either of you can dare criticize Melly for falling in love is beyond reason!” Charlotte shouted over the men. “Hypocrites, the both of you! And don’t give me any nonsense about it being different for men!”

  Stunned silence followed her outburst.

  “Now then, gentlemen, if you please,” Charlotte continued, having once more gained everyone’s attention. “We are all adults here. If Melly wishes to discreetly sample the pleasures of marriage before the vows are spoken, that is her choice. Once her engagement is announced, it won’t matter in any case.”

  “Charlie, I’m afraid it isn’t quite as simple as you think,” David said as Reggie let out an indignant croak.

  “I’m afraid it most certainly is,” she shot back. “And you needn’t take that patronizing tone with me. Why just last Season, Lady Willoughby was caught in a terribly compromising situation with Lord Willoughby, but once they announced their engagement, everyone was falling over themselves to have her at their parties. She was in no way ruined. Why should Melly be any different?”

  Mélisande choked. While alarmingly humorous, Charlotte’s innocent misunderstanding could prove useful. If anyone did dare comment, she would jump to squash any ugly rumors.

  “Charlie, you’re absolutely right,” said David, sounding contrite. “I’ve been terribly unfair in all this. After all, Melly certainly deserves to be given the same leniency as everyone else. I suppose we need not worry as long as you and Gravina are discreet, right, Melly? After all, you will be man and wife as soon as decency allows.”

  “Indeed, and as such, there is absolutely no need for any further upset,” cut in Charlotte. “I should remain with Melly until the wedding as a show of support.”

  “You’ll make a lovely maid of honor, Charlie,” David drawled.