She waited, trying to still the fluttering in her stomach. He smiled at her, but the friendliness failed to light his eyes.
"I am prepared to forgive all his debts to me and arrange to cancel the others if you will consent to be my wife, else," he sighed, "Percy must spend quite some time in debtor's prison."
"How much does my brother owe?" she asked after a moment.
"You could not begin to pay, my lady."
"Perhaps not, but together with my elder brother, William, we might reach some arrangement."
"Percy would not accept help from William," Savernake told her simply.
"You are right," she agreed. "Let us then be reasonable."
He smiled. "Reasonable. Certainly. Simply give me your assent and all shall be taken care of. You hesitate.” He rose from his chair, tall and lean, and walked to the window. "I shall then list the advantages of marrying me. You may have observed my sense of style, my skill in conversation. I am not unhandsome and retain some popularity among the highest circles. You would be free to remain in the country while I visited the city at various times of the year." He tilted his head, smiled. "There. You see, I am quite reasonable. I might also add that I do know precisely how to bring a woman to ecstasy with my touch."
Alianora watched him in fascination during this self-congratulatory recital.
"Still, she hesitates," he sighed, as if a woman should swoon at his words.
"You possess a remarkable opinion of yourself, my lord," she said in amazement. The thought of Lord Cerestone ever saying such a thing almost brought her to laughter, but she schooled her face to a cool expression. "But I can—"
"Perhaps," he interrupted, "this will convince you at last." He was not pleased with her hesitation. He had never had trouble convincing heiresses to accept him; it was the avenging mamas, or brothers, he added, who ruined his plans in the past. This was the first time he had an heiress in his hands who had no protector. At this moment he could even kidnap her if he chose, but that was a last resort. From his coat pocket he pulled a letter sealed with red wax.
"From your brother," he told her.
She took the missive and broke the seal. Inside, in rather shaky copperplate, Percy apologized for his weakness, stated his great fear of going to prison, begged her not to report his problems to William for she "knew how William could rail at one," and pleaded with her to fall in with Lord Savernake's plans for the earl had agreed she might remain at, Grassmere while married to him. Her life would not change substantially in any way and Lord Savernake was not such a bad fellow, was he?
For a time she held the letter, unseeing, then laid it down on the table not noticing how it soaked up the spilled ale. Did she have a choice? Oh, Percy! How could he ask such a thing?
Taking advantage of her confusion, Lord Savernake thought it time to show her a little of the delights in store for her. She would certainly not refuse him then. He helped her stand, removed her bonnet, deftly pulled out the pins that held her braids in their coronet. When he began to loosen the plaits, letting his hands brush over her face and neck, she came to herself.
"My lord, no! You may not do this," she said angrily. "Even were we to marry I would not allow this—this intimacy."
"Surely, you would not see this as a marriage of convenience?" he told her in a rather silky voice. "You have had no experience in physical pleasures between a man and a woman. Let me introduce you."
She had no experience in refusing men's advances—there had never been the slightest need at Grassmere. Every man there had known her from childhood and respected her as the daughter of her father. Even the visiting knights, with the singular exception of Lord Savernake, treated her with the greatest chivalry. Chivalry was what she was accustomed to, a respect for her person and her desires. She had tried to be polite and indirect as Katie suggested, but it had not succeeded.
She pulled away, glaring at him. He was surprised at the desire she sparked in him, rather magnificent in her anger, blue eyes flashing, the braids, partially undone, sending forth rippling waves of gilt over her shoulders. It would please him tremendously to take her above right now, anticipating the wedding. Her stance told him it would be quite a battle, however, and he liked his women rather more willing.
"I shall not require an answer now," he offered generously. "Tomorrow will do, at Georgina Everhurst's ball. Yes, that would be rather ironic."
"That is—that is so little time," she said a little breathlessly. Could she put him off until she discovered another way out of this dilemma? Refusing outright would endanger Percy and her protective instincts came into play. She would try and save him another way, sacrifice her portion. If she remained at Grassmere, she would never need it anyway.
"Perhaps it is very little, but remember," he said with eyes narrowed, "your brother has very little time. I should be forced to reveal his whereabouts to the creditors." And it would soon be time to move again, he thought in frustration, although being seen about town with an heiress had quieted his own creditors for the nonce. "And one cannot predict the dire effect the scandal would have on your father. Only think! There would be no more tournaments. No one would wish to be associated with such scandal for fear of being tainted."
That left her cold. She must protect Percy. She most certainly must shield her father.
"For all this hard work," Savernake continued, "I believe I deserve something. A kiss."
Seeing his intention, Alianora backed toward the door. Where she would go once out of the room she knew not. Perhaps the landlord would lend her a mount. Lord Savernake caught her as she struggled with the door.
"Come," he whispered. "Let us sample a little of wedded pleasures, my love," he ended with no trace of love in his voice, his eyes, or his manner. He pulled back a moment. "You have no pins by you?"
"Pins! Yes!" She grabbed for her reticule. But her captor was faster. He pushed her against the door and smothered her with his lips.
She felt disgust, felt the rough boards pricking her back, felt his hands as they took great liberties. With an unfeminine growl, she shoved him from her, pulled the door open, and ran.
And crashed into a broad chest. Protective arms immediately surrounded her.
"Oh!" she said with a sigh.
Chapter Eight
"Cerestone, how unfortunate," greeted Lord Savernake angrily, brushing dirt from his coat sleeves and straightening his cravat.
“Heiress hunting again?" said the viscount over the top of Alianora's head. He turned to her, putting his hands on either side of her face. “Has he harmed you, my lady?"
She shook her head. "No, we had merely stopped for refreshment."
“He did not force himself on you?" Lord Cerestone asked, looking again at Savernake.
“N-no. I was frightened by a—by a mouse," she ended lamely, embarrassed at her foolishness in coming here alone in the first place and not wishing to mention anything of her brother.
“You see, Cerestone. A harmless outing. We were having quite a pleasant interlude until you arrived."
The viscount pressed his lips together, eyes as cold and hard as emeralds. He looked from one to the other wondering what to believe—Lady Alianora's fright seemed to come from more than a mouse. He had seen her feed one to her hawk without flinching. He suspected that Savernake had become too friendly but could do nothing if Alianora denied it. And if it had happened, why would she deny it? He continued to frown fiercely, although when he looked down at her flushed face his expression changed to puzzlement.
She looked away from him, hating to lie. "I do say," called a voice from the taproom. "Shall we be going, Cerestone?”
Savernake sneered. “Brought your odd fish friends with you, I see." But even he recoiled before the viscount's flare of anger.
"You should take more care in your words, Savernake," he said softly. "One might take offense. One might then retaliate."
"One could take offense at threats, but one is not fearful today. Lady Alianora," Savernake
said, taking up one of her hands. Cerestone could not help noting how she leaned away from him but left her hand in his. "Shall we return to town? I believe our afternoon has been sufficiently ruined."
"Oh, Savernake, did I not tell you? How careless," the viscount said, blinking slowly. "Someone left the stable door ajar and your team is, by now, halfway to Margate. We shall have to return Lady Alianora to the bosom of her family. Rotten luck. It should take all night to find them."
Savernake's eyes glittered with frustrated anger. "I believe you shall pay one day, Cerestone," he warned. "And it will be my great pleasure to make certain you do."
"As you will," the viscount invited and bowed, becoming, more cheerful. "And, now, my lady, I see that you are missing your bonnet and reticule. Fetch them,” he ordered the barkeep, who had stood watching with his mouth open.
Lord Cerestone did not smile as he handed her into the landau. He had to accept her word that nothing had happened, although he would never trust Savernake, not with his sister and not with this lady. Unfortunately, Alianora was not his sister, and he had no right to interfere.
Alianora greeted Buck Rasherly and Henry Parkington, asking how they had been since last they met. They exchanged pleasantries as the carriage rode slowly back to London. The conversation lagged.
"I say, Cerestone," said Buck, looking over the landscape with an oversize quizzing glass set in a chased-silver handle. "Was my interference timely at the inn?"
The viscount smiled, the wind ruffling his dark hair. "Quashed my temper."
Buck nodded in satisfaction. "Wouldn't do to duel if one can help it. Nasty business, possibly fatal."
Alianora's eyes widened. Had it almost come to that? A duel? Surely not! Lord Cerestone was a historian not a duelist. He would be killed! The thought chilled her. She looked at him wishing she might thank him for saving her, but that would be admitting she had needed rescue—something she had already denied. Would that he would look her way so that she might smile to show that everything was well, but he seemed to find the hedgerows and meadows of more interest. Had he developed a disgust for her after discovering her alone with Lord Savernake? She found that thought intolerable.
"I am quite looking forward to tomorrow's ball, my lord," she said, trying to break the pensive mood.
"I look forward to the following day," Cerestone answered, "so that my life might return to some semblance of normality."
"Waste of time," Henry declared. "Balls, routs, never had such pain in m'feet."
"That is because you jump and stomp about so in the dance that it is a wonder you still have feet, dear boy. You must slide and glide with a minor hop or two."
Henry snorted. "Sliding and gliding—s’for hogs on ice, not human beings."
"And jumping and stomping are for enraged bulls," Buck drawled, turning stiffly and nodding at his friend. "Or a clodhopper."
"Never hop clods, ride over them," Henry told him.
"I beg you, Lady Alianora, tell Mr. Parkington something of the joys of the dance," Buck said.
"Some might find it difficult to execute the steps," she allowed with a suppressed smile. "But I believe the executioner eventually learns to cut a figure."
Buck lost control for a moment and laughed, delicately. Henry brightened and said, "I say!"
Lord Cerestone turned to look at her. "As long as he does not give the cut direct."
"Or cut to the quick," Buck added.
"A mortal wound," said Henry.
"And all because of a simple dance," Cerestone said, shaking his head. "Indeed, Hal, you'd best stay away from the ballroom."
Alianora laughed and they continued to send sallies back and forth until the landau reached Katie's house. The viscount escorted her to the steps.
"I should beware, my lady," he told her softly, "of bad eggs. They are apt to turn on one."
She laid a hand on his sleeve, saying lightly, "I am not yet in the basket."
He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Call on me should you find yourself so."
She looked up at him, amazed at how her hand tingled beneath his lips. How differently she felt when Lord Cerestone touched her.
"A friend may help a friend, may he not?" he added, his countenance serious, his eyes slightly worried.
She nodded.
"But friends might not always be about when needed." That was the best he could do without interfering any further.
Gently extricating her hand, she thanked him for seeing her home. He nodded and left as the butler opened the door.
She did not sleep well that night, wishing profoundly that she might speak to Percy before making a decision about Lord Savernake. She sat up in the bed. Perhaps she could find him—no. She lay back down. How would she do so? Only Lord Savernake knew Percy's whereabouts and he seemed disinclined to reveal them.
She sat up again. Perhaps she could insist on seeing Percy first, put off answering the proposal until then. But—no. She lay back down. Time was short. By the following day Percy could be in prison.
Sitting up yet again, she put her face in her hands. How had life become so complicated? She reached out a hand in the dark. Oh, how she needed a friend!
* * *
Katie fluttered about, quite excited and in high spirits as they prepared for the Everhurst ball. Her sherry brown eyes sparkled and her dark ringlets shone about her face. She stood just behind Alianora who was seated before her dressing table mirror.
"There! Did I not tell you? How lovely you look! I vow, no man shall be able to resist you tonight."
That was not a cheery thought for Alianora.
Katie put her hands on Alianora's shoulders. "Why so sad, dear sister? You shall be seeing Lord Cerestone tonight," she added enticingly.
That brought a smile from Alianora.
"There, so much better. Now, tell me what you think."
Alianora looked in the mirror. Katie had persuaded her to allow her to cut the hair around her forehead and cheekbones and a new fringe of soft curls framed her face. The rest of her hair had been gathered in a knot at her crown with long curls dangling down her back. A silver filigree bandeau sat on her head like a crescent moon.
"It is so different but I think I like it."
"Of course you do! You shall be all the rage. Now, the gown."
She and the maid helped Alianora dress, carefully working to avoid ruining the elaborate coiffure. The gown had arrived only an hour ago—someone had also been awake all night!—and, fortunately, fit perfectly. It was a tunic dress—with an underfrock of white crepe and the tunic of gentian blue moiré, draped and caught at the shoulders and waist with silver-spangled ribbons. On her feet she wore white velvet slippers. Sapphires Katie had given her were set in a silver parure around her neck.
"Gloves and shawls and then we must be leaving,” Katie said, stopping before the mirror to puff out the sleeves of her plum silk gown, pressing flat the gold braid on the square neckline. "You are the living image of a Greek goddess, I vow!" she said as they descended.
Sarah popped out of the dining room to admire her lambs, causing Alianora further embarrassment. Alianora had already attended several balls—something prior to the Season, Katie had told her—and danced the waltz at Almack's, but this was her first true ball of the Season. She managed, however, to hide her fears from Katie. After all, would she not be seeing Lord Cerestone? Could she not enjoy the ball just a little before she gave Lord Savernake her answer?
Katie was speaking as they rode to Grosvenor Square, that she had heard from William only the day before and that he might be able to come to town sooner than he had hoped. The words faded in and out until Katie mentioned Lord Savernake, saying that William hoped his sister would not see too much of him, that Savernake was not a desirable companion.
"But do not let it distress you," Katie quickly assured her. "There will be so many men about tonight that you shall not, in all likelihood, even see him."
Alianora only wished that could be so.
The coach stopped, moved forward, stopped, encountering a good deal of traffic in the square, but it was not long before they were able to alight. They ascended the steps to the ballroom and waited with a number of people to pass through the receiving line. Alianora met Georgina's mother, Lady Cerestone, and encountered Georgina herself in high good looks, dressed all in white with primrose ribbons and pearls. Lord Cerestone stood nearby, dressed in a dark blue coat of superfine, white dimity waistcoat, and breeches of drab kerseymere. His cravat was modestly tied, of a sparkling white lawn in the folds of which rested a diamond. He took her hand in greeting.
"Ravishing, my lady," he said softly.
She felt shy all of a sudden. "Thank you, my lord."
He smiled. "Are you as nervous as I am?" She nodded. "May I claim two dances immediately?"
"A host's prerogative?" she questioned.
"A host's pleasure," he said, signing her card. "I hope you enjoy the ball."
She left to join Katie who was with her friends. They immediately complimented Alianora on her gown and her hair, their friendly words adding to her self-consciousness. She glanced about the ballroom, noting the primrose material draped from the ceiling as if, as Lord Cerestone had suggested, they were indeed inside a huge tent. Pine swags dotted with white roses hung from the musicians' balcony, were wrapped about the freestanding Ionic columns, and framed the doorways. There were masses of potted palms. Mirrors hung high on the walls reflected the candlelight, making the room quite bright. There were so many people! Alianora was amazed. Everyone moved about constantly from group to group, talking, laughing, plumes waving, jewels sparkling, perfumes wafting through the air like invisible ribbons.
She relaxed a little when the one person she so dreaded seeing did not appear to be there. At least not yet. Men began to cluster about her, bringing friends who wished an introduction and a dance. Buck Rasherly signed for a contredanse as did Henry Parkington.
The receiving line dissolved and the musicians began tuning their instruments, finally breaking into a minuet, the favorite opening dance of the Prince Regent. Lord Cerestone led his sister to the floor and they danced alone for a few minutes—Georgina Everhurst's introduction to society. Alianora saw only Cerestone, how he moved with such grace, how proud he was of his sister. Candlelight brought out the sheen of his dark hair and highlighted the planes of his face. With his broad shoulders and lean body he seemed more athlete than historian. He handed his sister to another and those engaged to dance moved onto the floor, including Alianora with a Lord Fitch.
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