A few seconds of stunned silence followed this poison, even Ianthe temporarily bereft of speech. Lady Richards sat up. Instead of denying it, she said with some vigour, 'I do not think the difference so huge between a baron and baronet's daughter, Lady Fox. And let me tell you that the Duke of Cumberland once danced with my daughter and said she was charming!'
Lord Fox grinned briefly at the lioness defending her cub, and met Lady Richards' eye.
'I suppose the Royal duke considers it his duty to dance with every lady in town,' said Curtis with a sneer.
'Only the pretty ones,' remarked Lord Fox.
'Fox!' His step-mama slapped a hand on the table. 'Are you telling me that you and Miss Sarah Richards are … are…' Words failed Lady Fox at this.
'Oh, no your ladyship,' gasped Sally, hardly knowing how it had come to this, 'I assure you…'
'I have not spent more than a minute alone with Miss Richards since her arrival,' mused Lord Edward Fox, 'but she seems a very pleasant person. Perhaps I should pursue the acquaintance.'
Sally heard herself let out a squeak at this, and clutched her napkin to her chest, but His Lordship had finished his meal and rose from the table with a slight bow to Lady Fox. 'I meet with Henderson,' he said, referring to the estate manager, 'You must excuse me.'
Ianthe stood up too, and after bobbing a curtsy, ran after him. She caught him in the hall. 'Lord Fox!' she called.
He stopped and looked around. 'I'm busy,' he said unpleasantly.
'Whoever Henderson is, I'm sure he can wait a few minutes. I'll follow you into the study.'
'I have already said you are not permitted there. And the Estate Manager is there already.'
'Oh, is that Henderson? You must introduce me before he goes!' She pulled on his sleeve and he looked down at her hand, astounded. 'The green salon then,' she said, and pulled him in that direction.
He jerked his sleeve from her grasp, but followed her anyway, wondering why. 'I am waiting,' he said coldly once they had entered.
'I just wanted to tell you that you did very much better today. You attacked her weaknesses and did not only respond to her attacks. Very well done!' she congratulated. Lord Fox clenched his jaw. 'However, your passion led you into the quagmire once more. You are now officially a suitor of Sally Richards,' she added sweetly.
He briefly looked stiffer than ever — and enraged, but at this last he sank in a chair and put his hands over his face, defeated. The enormity of his words, about a woman circumstanced as Miss Sarah Richards was, had hit him harder with every step he had taken from the dining room. What had possessed him? The evil influence of Ianthe Eames, he knew. The attempt to put his stepmother on the retreat had led his unfettered tongue to utter that stupidity. He groaned.
'Of course, you could do a deal worse,' continued Ianthe, as though looking on the bright side. 'She is a delightful girl of good spirit, intelligent and very pretty.'
Each new adjective sounded a death knell in his soul, and he hung his head lower. It was true, he could not hurt such an innocent now that those angry words had left his mouth. "Pursue the acquaintance" he had said. There could be only one meaning to that for an unwed, unprotected female. A louder noise left him, and he rolled his head on the chair back, eyes closed.
After some seconds, he heard a giggle. 'I'm only teasing. Sally wouldn't have you.'
Lord Fox's head shot up and he looked hopefully into the laughing eyes of Ianthe Eames. 'Do you think so?'
'Of course! You have not been pleasant to her at all during her visit.'
'That is true,' he said, remembering with relief. 'It would not be unusual for her to have taken a dislike to me,' he added hopefully.
'Oh, she has!' said Ianthe. She smiled as he put his head back once more and uttered a sigh of release.
'Thank goodness!' he said. 'My dashed temper.'
'Yes,' said Ianthe comfortably. 'But there is no saying but that your kind words over breakfast may have given her thoughts a different direction. She might develop a tendre after all. She did say you were handsome, remember.'
He shot up again. 'Never say so.' She kept her mouth prim. Lord Fox grasped at her hands with the air of a drowning man. 'Miss Eames, please help me!'
She laughed down on him then. 'Don't fear, I am playing with you. Sally is not such a zany. She knew why you spoke so.'
He shut his eyes with deliberation and sighed. He still had her hands and squeezed them enough to make her squeal. 'I should be angry with you for deceiving me, but I find I am too relieved. I shall have words with you later on this head, when I can muster my dislike.' He made to stand up.
Ianthe's large dark eyes looked down at his hands and she said, 'Oh, I cannot foist you on Sally, you know. I may have quite other plans for you.'
'What on earth…?' He looked up, but Lord Fox found himself once more alone, only the warmth in his hands saying that Miss Ianthe Eames had ever been there at all.
He did not know why, but as his meeting with Henderson was coming to an end, he called a footman to summon Miss Eames to the study. As she entered, smiling, he said to the interested subordinate, 'Mr Henderson, this is Miss Eames, who wished to make your acquaintance before you left.'
The confused Henderson, a red-headed Scot of middle age and intelligent appearance, bowed and blinked as the most beautiful young lady he had ever seen, in a pink muslin day dress with long gauze sleeves, smiled at him beatifically. 'Can we converse as I walk you out, Mr Henderson? I have lived on the continent all my life and my father did not have an estate. I confess I find your occupation fascinating.'
Henderson, with a bemused look at Lord Fox, saw his nod, and said pleasantly, moving to the door, 'Well if it is not too dull for you, ma'am, I should be pleased to talk of it with you.'
Fox watched them go, wondering what she was about. But as he had been in this state of wondering since she arrived, it made little difference. Did she wish to know the running of Studham in particular, or was that too simple? Perhaps she wished to know more about estate management in preparation for running a great house like Audley. Then again, she was a person of energy who seemed to be interested in everything around her. He would strive not to tease himself about it. But he wondered why he had let her have her head.
Chapter Eight
Lady Aurora Worries
Mr Wilbert Fenton, ever the fashionable gentleman, but with an outré touch around the waistcoat area that suggested the dandy, was lounging on a chair very much at his ease, reading a racing journal. Past forty, he was no longer given to ruinous gambling indulgences, many years of such behaviour had palled, but he was ever the sportsman and occasionally indulged in speculative bets based on knowledge, not luck. He had always been a clever man, handsome and slender of body (though for many years he had feigned corpulence to appease the insecurities of his friend, the Prince Regent) and his indulgences had concealed another life abroad, where he had performed secret services for the crown. The visit of Ianthe Eames had brought back memories of those times, and he had even been able to divulge aspects of these adventures to his beloved wife, Lady Aurora. She had found it all vastly amusing, but she had not seemed astonished. His wife had intuited things about him that he had never revealed.
He had thought he'd married his wife at this late age as a convenient arrangement for them both. He was to give her an entrée in society once more (that had been denied her because she had chosen to run a discreet gaming den instead of starving after her ruinous husband had died); she was to supply the wealth. That freed him from continuing to leech on his kind older brother, Sir Ranalph Fenton. But all this had ceased to be the basis of his marriage to the beautiful Countess Overton as soon as he had touched her. The convenience of the marriage had been, after that, the mere result of their love.
Though he was still reading, Fenton was aware that his wife had twitched twice, and now moved to the window in a distracted fashion, and then back to her chair. He had approved, as he always did, of her exquisite taste today. Her dress was slim
mer that the prevailing English fashion. The under dress was caught under her bosom close to her slender figure, with only the sage green muslin overdress fluttering around her now, adding softness.
'Are you going to tell me,’ he drawled, not looking up, ‘or shall I guess?'
'Oh, it is nothing, my dear.' His wife was not fooled by his careless tone and sought to reassure him.
'I shall tell you, then.’ He said, laying down his paper. ‘You are worried about Ianthe.'
'If it were not the Foxes, Wil dear, I would not be concerned. But Lord Edward is so miserably forbidding, and Her Ladyship is a cat that I still remember from my young days. She is ten years my senior and still was not married to the widowed Lord Fox yet but had set her eyes on him. She was hideous to me my entire first Season because he once paid me a compliment.'
'As I remember it, Fox did not give out compliments. He must have been moved by your amazing beauty, my dear.'
'Well,' said his wife, 'I suppose he might have been, but his manner of delivery terrified me. Mama later told me that he approached my papa, who would not allow it.'
'He must have been twenty years your senior!' said her husband.
'Oh, Papa would not have scrupled at that. It was that he wished to sell my beauty to a higher bidder.'
At this, Mr Fenton came forward and took his wife in his arms consolingly. She submitted to this for a few seconds before pulling back to look at him and say, 'I just cannot bear the thought that the poor child should be under the same roof as them, Wil. I do not know Lord Fox well, but what if he is like his father? I was crushed by him entirely.'
'Well, Ianthe has lived a different life than you had at that age my dear, she will not be so easily crushed. She has more spirit than any girl I know.'
'Yes, but her father is only months deceased, and to be put into such a household when one's spirits must be at their lowest doesn't bear thinking of.'
'And so?'
She threw herself against his chest again. 'What shall we do, dear Wil?'
He touched her hair affectionately. 'Kent. Now, who could we be on our way to?'
'Oh, shall we visit Studham?' Lady Aurora said, delighted, looking up at him again. 'I know it is a bore to go, but it would put my heart at ease. If it is too awful, we shall just take her back with us. We can persuade her, can we not?'
'If need be, I will persuade her, never fear.'
'Sometimes, my darling, you look quite dangerous.'
'Come closer, and I'll remind you how dangerous I can be.'
Lady Aurora, elegant society beauty, lowered herself to giggle at this, as her husband kissed exactly the right spot on her neck.
***
The residents of Studham did not meet again until they were all ready for the evening, dressed for the carriage ride and waiting stiffly in the hall. Curtis had been there first, and Ianthe had complimented his appearance in evening wear. ‘You look very handsome,’ she said in a friendly fashion.
Curtis rejected the familiarity, answering, ‘I suppose that you ladies are handsome too, but as mama suspected, you might be rather overdressed for your positions.’ At Lady Richards’ gasp, he flushed rather. But held his head up, ignoring them further.
‘It is admirable, Mr Fox, that a young boy be guided by his mother’s opinions and quote them,’ said Ianthe in an even voice. Curtis looked at her for half a second, attempting a sneer, before she added, ‘But a man should take responsibility for his own views and manners, don’t you think?’
Fox had joined them, heard Ianthe’s words and saw Curtis’ inflamed face. His brother was, at least, ashamed. But Curtis face then took on a hard look, and he feigned ignoring Ianthe and the other ladies. Too set on his path, thought Fox, but still… Fox would think about the shame Ianthe had prompted Curtis to display.
Fox opened his mouth to say something now, but Ianthe took him to one side, ‘How dreadful to have had only Lady Fox as a mama,’ she whispered.
Fox stopped and thought, looking again at his brother. Because Curtis was fawned on, while he himself was ignored, Fox had always thought his brother blessed. But then he remembered the difference between the true warmth of his early life and the poisonous indulgence that marked Curtis’. Ianthe was looking up at him with those deep eyes, seeing his realisation.
It had been decided that two carriages would avoid a dreadful squeeze and presently they arrived before the open doors, one a smart modern travelling coach and another heavier vehicle from a different era, but that was nevertheless a handsome beast, polished for the occasion. Curtis handed his mama into the first of these and joined her, while the Richards and Ianthe Eames moved towards the second. Lord Fox stood undecided for a moment, having been stiffly avoiding the Richards' eyes as he stood in the hall. But he called after Curtis, 'As you protect your mama, I should accompany the ladies…' and moved in the direction of the other carriage.
The baron sat stiffly once in, barely nodding at the other occupants, looking out of the window into the twilight, his classical profile in relief, looking stern.
'Oh, dear Lord Fox,' said Lady Richards leaning forward to touch his knee, 'Do not fear! Ianthe explained everything!'
Fox was startled by the touch, the endearment (which he had not heard before and did not feel he deserved) and her words. He was afraid of just what Ianthe Eames might have said, for much of what she uttered was a complete mystery to him. However, as he looked across at the open, smiling faces of the Richards, and rather reticently to one side to Miss Eames, he relaxed a little. It was hard not to when three ladies were beaming at one. He still was not clear about the reason, but he gave a half smile for a tenth of a second, and was rewarded by Miss Sarah Richards saying, 'Thank you, my lord!' He nodded, still unsure what he was to be thanked for, but too fearful of the explanation to ask questions. He was being drawn into intimacy here, something he avoided at all costs, and he knew who he had to thank for that. He cast a glance of dislike in the direction of his left shoulder, but the woman only laughed. He could not bring himself to frown at the Richards, whose joy seemed to be in part made up of relaxation of a terrible tension. And after all, that Sarah Richards and her mother would put too much meaning on his rash words at breakfast had been his greatest fear. But Miss Richards, if she suspected his words were real, would now be looking at him in either disgust, or coldness, or on the other hand, maidenly modesty. She betrayed none of these but gave him instead the open trust of friendship. This was better than any alternative, he supposed, but he was not quite comfortable.
'Have you been to Audley before, my lord?' enquired Lady Richards comfortably.
'Yes, but not for many years. When I was a child we visited frequently. My own mother was intimate with the late marchioness.'
They talked of this and that for the rest of the journey, Lady Richards directing the conversation onto easy topics, and Fox relented his stiffness just a little, and became nearly polite.
***
Ianthe had been so amused by Fox's demeanour in the carriage that the cold looks from Curtis and Lady Fox earlier were banished. He had sat, looking particularly handsome in evening dress with its dazzling white waistcoat, black coat and fawn knee breeches, trying to look stern but merely looking terrified. Somehow, she had seen from the first time she had spoken to him, the pain in his fox-coloured eyes. He tried to be cold and unapproachable, but she had seen great fires banked down there. His rages had said it: here was a man of passion that had to burst out. No doubt he had other outlets in gentlemen's pursuits, but he tried to keep his emotions in check. Though she had played with him, she had known that he had twice approached her with kindness. He had meant to reassure her and then to close off again, in the same way he treated the Richards. But she had not chosen to let him retreat.
It had taken but a sharp fingernail to scratch at his great wall of protection. She watched as the two Richards ladies, having found the opening in his shell, opened it up further. He was trying not to give way even now, was wary and
fearful. But Ianthe was determined that such a splendid man should not live a life so cut off from both others, and even himself.
He looked very handsome tonight, with his brown hair curling against his high collar, his usually serious face softening a little under Lady Richards' warmth and Sally's offer of friendship. Ianthe would continue to drag him from safety whether he liked it or not.
She thought, though, about the incident in the study when he had begged for her help, grasping her hands. Sometimes, when he was physically close to her, Ianthe had to acknowledge that Lord Fox might hold the whip hand. Near to him … well, she was no longer totally in control.
The whole party was looking splendid tonight, Ianthe thought now. Sally was in a charming green silk that enhanced her colouring and Ianthe had been moved to place a simple coronet of ivy and forest flowers in her rich brown hair. Lady Richards was dressed in white and silver, looking very pretty indeed. The girls had prevailed upon her to dispense with her cap and display the thick brown curls to advantage. Ianthe was wearing a claret coloured sarcenet, such a fine silk over a slim satin under dress. It was darker than the preferred English fashion for young ladies, but it suited her pale skin and dark curls admirably.
Ianthe caught a shy look that Lord Fox directed at Lady Richards when she had asked him a personal question and could have sworn that he was just a boy. The passionate, loving boy who had been hidden behind his wall, she thought. He would put up a fuss later, no doubt, would try again and again to push them away, but it was much too late. His fate was sealed.
She knew that her own interest in Fox was particular. She had not quite decided what it was. His eyes looked at her with more annoyance than admiration and that amused her. He offered her rescue, but she felt that it was he who needed it.
Chapter Nine
Dinner at Audley
The opulence of Audley, though less obvious in the twilight, nevertheless made Lady Richards gasp as the carriage bowled towards it. She was, Sally noted, vastly excited at her first social event since their arrival and looking as pretty as a girl in her best silver-trimmed evening gown. Lord Fox handed all three ladies out of the coach himself, and they entered the vast doors of Audley into a brilliantly lit grand hall, chattering their admiration for the marble floor, the vast chandelier, and the number of servants that the marquis had felt necessary to greet his guests. Lord Fox moved behind them, amused at their gaiety, but the presence of Lady Fox and her son in the Hall, newly divested of their outer wear, effectively stopped them. In a more subdued fashion, they handed their garments to the waiting attendants, overseen by a butler who they heard called Forrest, of such majestic corpulence that it was a mystery how he might perform his duties. He had the air, though, of ancient magnificence that went well with the marble hall. Ianthe's eyes danced when she caught Lady Richards' startled gaze.
Ianthe and the Fighting Foxes: The Fentons Book 4 Page 6