“It’s clear that Lady Tabitha and Miss Faulkner don’t intend to be separated much this Season, so we have that working for us. When you call upon Lady Tabitha, I can call on Miss Faulkner at the same time.”
“We’ll have to be sure she dances as many sets with us as possible at balls,” Noah mused aloud. “And always the supper dance.”
“Always.”
“Do you think you can convince Miss Faulkner to stay with Lady Tabitha even more than normal? Without raising her suspicions, that is.” If Miss Faulkner suspected something was amiss, she might go to either Raynesford or Shelton, or perhaps even to their father, Newcastle. If someone was going to avenge Lady Tabitha’s honor, Noah wanted it to be him. The men in her family might not allow him that privilege, if they discovered the situation.
“I’ll do what I can.” Leith glanced over his shoulder to where the other gentlemen of their party were still sitting. “Write the wager down. We need to get back before they start to wonder what is holding us up.”
Once more, Noah dipped the quill in ink. But he couldn’t write their wager on the same page as Oglethorpe and Eggerley’s vile bet. He couldn’t bear to look at it any longer. He turned to a new page, then found he could take a breath again. He marked down the details, closed the betting book, and shoved it with disgust across the table.
Chapter Six
Lud, Father’s carriage felt overcrowded and stuffy. This presented Tabitha with a rare instance to wish she could breathe some London air.
She had known Owen and Elaine intended to accompany her to the ball that evening, so their presence had not come as a surprise. But for some reason, Toby had changed his mind at the last moment and decided to join them. Not long before that, Father had announced his intentions of enjoying a night spent in company instead of holed up in his study, as he had done so often since Mother passed. Tabitha was pleased about her father’s decision; she could have lived a perfectly content life without Toby’s change of heart.
The atmosphere in the carriage was not helped by the fact that Toby had been in one of his moods since the previous afternoon. One might think him a female experiencing her monthly courses with the way he behaved like a cat that had been tossed unceremoniously in the pond.
His conduct in relation to Tabitha, in particular, was rather galling.
Just that morning at breakfast, he had flopped down at the table and scowled in her direction when she greeted him with her usual “Good morning.”
“And why would anyone think it good?” he had grunted, glaring across the table at her as he chewed a mouthful of kippers. “It is morning, after all. Well before noon. One ought to have the common decency to respect that some of us would prefer not to be awoken by the sounds of chirping birds and the sight of a bright sun blinding us through the open windows at this ungodly hour of the day.”
His surliness chafed more than usual.
She had not been the one to insist his windows be opened, after all. That decision had been made by Lord Leith. The earl had called rather early in the day, it was true, but he had declared it urgent that he speak to Toby. Tabitha knew that rousing her twin in such a manner was the most effective way to ensure he would actually get out of bed—in fact, it was one of the few methods one could employ against Toby.
Lord Leith’s purpose for waking her brother at such an hour was none of her concern. But Toby’s behavior in the matter had only served to reinforce her resolve to see her brother married off as soon as was humanly possible. Particularly since he refused to tell her later in the day what had been so urgent.
So now, jammed into one corner of the carriage where she shared a bench with Owen and Elaine, she sat directly across from her twin and nemesis, who made it a point to stare at her. If anyone apart from Jo and Bethanne knew her well enough to recognize how quickly that would drive her to the brink of insanity, it was Toby. Damn him.
“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked him through gritted teeth.
Toby lifted an eyebrow. “From what I understand, you already are. Although I have no earthly idea how what you’re doing is meant in any way to be of assistance to me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Tabitha asked. When Toby merely scowled in response, she turned to Owen. “What does he mean?”
“I can only imagine he’s referring to the fact that you and Jo are attempting to find him a bride.”
“Are you really?” Elaine leaned across her husband to take Tabitha’s hand. Her blue eyes—Lord Devonport’s very same blue eyes, Tabitha realized with a start—lit up with excitement. “I want to help. Let me help. It will be such fun! I have a few young ladies in mind who would be absolutely perfect—”
“Perfect for an utter scoundrel?” Toby drawled. “The only lady who would be perfect for me would be the sort frequently found at Haymarket.”
Elaine blushed ferociously at his pronouncement. Toby had clearly meant to discomfit her with his bold pronouncement, and had succeeded.
“Watch your tongue,” Father piped in, entering the conversation for the first time. “There are ladies present.”
Toby turned to Elaine. “I apologize, my lady.” He intentionally avoided looking at Tabitha.
“You’re not going to help,” Owen said decisively to Elaine after a moment. “I’ll not have my brother avoiding me because he’s avoiding my wife and her schemes.”
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten it was because of the efforts of your sister and cousins that you and I were introduced.” Elaine’s counter-attack contained no small degree of heat. “Perhaps you think you’d be better off if you were still a bachelor like your brother.”
“Perhaps you’re overreacting,” Owen said. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Elaine punched Owen in the arm with her tiny fist before she crossed her arms over her chest and flopped back against the squabs with a huff. No one said a word for several moments.
Toby finally broke the silence as the carriage turned onto Hanover Square. “Well, this has been a cheery jaunt. I’m so glad we were all together for it.”
Father cleared his throat, catching Tabitha’s eye and holding it. “I wonder,” he said slowly, “if you’re not spending more efforts on finding brides for your brothers than you are on finding a suitable match for yourself.”
Not again. Good Lord, how many times in the last decade had she tried to make it clear to him that she had no intention of marrying? She tried to soften it, always. She tried to make him see that she would not marry a man who only wanted her because of the size of her dowry or the connection she would give to her father and brothers. But he never seemed to listen.
Was that why Father had decided to come tonight, instead of trusting Owen with the responsibility? To keep an eye on her and be sure she made an effort?
She took a breath and steeled herself. “Father, I—”
He stayed her with his hand. “I know all your excuses. There is no need for me or anyone present to hear them again.”
The carriage rolled to a stop. Tabitha had to bite the inside of her cheek in order to force back her tears. They refused to understand, to care how she felt. She wouldn’t give them—particularly Toby—the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
The driver started to open the door and set down the steps, but Father reached over to hold it closed. “I expect to see you making an effort tonight. You are not to be a wallflower, plastered to the walls of the ballroom. I’ll be watching.” He sighed and took one of her hands into his own, much larger hand. Funny how, as exceedingly sizeable as she was for a lady, her hands could look so tiny next to his. “I only want what’s best for you, Tabitha. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
She snapped her head up and met his gaze. “I fail to see how marriage to a man who loves money and position, but fails to love me, could be what is best for me.”
Before he could stop her, Tabitha climbed over the rest of the inhabitants of the carriage and shoved the door open, then leapt down witho
ut assistance. She landed awkwardly on her ankle and stumbled. The driver started to rush to her aid, but she stopped him with a frosty glare and righted herself on her own.
“Tabitha!” her father called out, still seated in the carriage.
She refused to look back. Tabitha strode up the path and climbed the stairs to Fewster Manor with as much dignity as she could muster.
Once inside, she made her way as swiftly as she could to the ladies’ retiring room, ignoring the calls from Owen and Elaine behind her. She shoved the door closed behind her and turned the key in the lock.
Only then did she succumb to tears.
~ * ~
“You said she’d be here tonight.” Noah pulled a hand through his already disheveled hair for what had to be the tenth time already, and he’d only been at the ball at Fewster Manor for twenty minutes. He’d count himself lucky indeed if he managed to return home that night with any hair left on his head. “Where is she?” The first set was set to begin, but despite his continual scanning of the crowd, Lady Tabitha was nowhere to be seen.
He had found Oglethorpe, though. It had taken a supreme effort (and a bit of Leith’s force holding him back) in order to refrain from turning the man’s face as black as his soul right there in the middle of the ballroom. But at least if Oglethorpe was there, he was not wherever Lady Tabitha was.
“She’s here,” Leith said. “I saw Toby and Lord Newcastle come in. Toby swore to me that they would all come together. It was murder getting him to agree to come, without giving him an explanation, I might add. He seems to think I’m merely trying to collect on our wager by helping Lady Tabitha and Miss Faulkner along.”
Leith’s tone was so placid. How could he possibly be relaxed? Noah removed his eyes from the crush to study the other man. Nothing in his posture would alert a soul that anything was amiss. One had to be close enough to see the slight jerking motion of a muscle in his jaw or to notice the hard glint in his glowering eyes in order to discover that anything might be disturbing the earl. For a fleeting moment, Noah was jealous of Leith’s ability to maintain his composure.
“We ought to devise a strategy,” Leith said. “For once we find her.”
Yes, a plan of attack would be a necessity. “You said the fourth set would be a waltz? And it is to be the supper dance as well?”
“Yes,” Leith said. “I’ll go and claim her for the first set. Or at least the first one once she’s come out from hiding. You find a way to distract Oglethorpe while I’m doing that. Once we’re dancing, perhaps you ought to find Miss Faulkner and talk with her. Maybe you should even dance with her. After our dance, I’ll bring Lady Tabitha to her cousin, and you can claim the supper dance.”
“And there is another waltz after supper?” Noah asked. No matter what, they couldn’t let Oglethorpe near her during a waltz.
“Yes. I suppose I should ask her for that one,” Leith said. “Unless you want tongues wagging about your impending marriage.” He pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. “On second thought, maybe that’s exactly what you want.”
Noah wouldn’t be opposed—he definitely wanted to marry her—but he wasn’t so certain Lady Tabitha would agree to it. At least not yet. Hopefully soon. Still, he shook his head. “I think you ought to take that one. I’ll get her to dance a country dance with me for a second set. She might be more amenable to that idea.”
Leith snickered. “Touché.”
“But...”
There was no need for Leith to ask ‘But what?’ His eyes asked the question for him.
“What will we do about the rest of the sets? Aren’t there supposed to be eight of them tonight?” There was simply no way the two of them could dance with her more than twice each. Lady Tabitha wouldn’t hear of it. For that matter, Miss Faulkner would probably cause a scene. Even Elaine might join them. The ladies would never allow such a thing.
“I don’t think the remaining sets will be a problem,” Leith said. “Lady Tabitha has never been one to dance any more than absolutely necessary. She rarely dances at all, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Noah nodded. That was true. She seemed to prefer life on the periphery of the ballroom floor by far in comparison to life in the midst of it. She’d been that way for as long as he’d known her. Indeed, seeing her dance with any gentleman was an occasion to be remembered, she did it so rarely. “We still ought to stay close, though.”
“I doubt either of us would stray far at this juncture.” Leith’s lips thinned with resolve. He pointed inconspicuously across the congested room, so that only Noah could see his actions. “There she is. I’m going over.”
Noah’s gaze followed the direction of Leith’s path. There, a vision in a demure chestnut silk gown that pulled across her gloriously full breasts and tugged against her curvaceous hips in all the right ways, stood Lady Tabitha with Miss Faulkner and Elaine. They flanked her, one standing sentinel to her right, the other to her left, as though they were guarding her from some unseen threat.
Little did they know, there truly was a threat present tonight.
Oglethorpe. Drat, he’d almost forgotten he was supposed to waylay the blackguard while Leith put their plan in motion. He’d focused too long on Lady Tabitha’s altogether-too-shapely figure, and all other thought had fled his brain like cockroaches fleeing from torchlight. Noah forced his eyes to leave the bodice of her gown (which left just a bit too much to his imagination) in order to comb the ballroom for the villain.
By Jove, he’d nearly waited too long. Oglethorpe had apparently spotted Lady Tabitha, too, and was picking his way through the mob of dancers making their way to the ballroom floor. One thing on Noah’s side—Leith looked to have a decent head start.
Still, there was no time to waste. He started across the middle of the floor, on a path to intercept the rogue before he could reach Lady Tabitha. Oglethorpe was focused solely on his target; he didn’t even see Noah coming in the last moment before they collided. Noah picked up speed just before impact, hoping to knock the cur on his backside.
He almost succeeded.
“Watch out, man!” Oglethorpe said as he tried to right himself, pulling on the lapels of his coat and disentangling himself from the legs of the table he’d fallen into. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Terribly sorry. I must not have been looking where I was going.”
Oglethorpe straightened and shot a heated glare at Noah. “I’d recommend, my lord, that you stop being a bloody blundering fool. It would not do for you to careen into a lady as you’ve just done into me.” The man’s voice held an understated threat.
“And I’d recommend you remember you’re in the company of ladies and ought to watch your choice of language,” Noah returned.
“Care to help me remember outside?” The rascal practically cracked his knuckles with glee over the prospect.
While he was not as big as some men of the ton, Noah still stood a few inches over Oglethorpe. Size-wise, he was on the better end of things, for certain. He could probably come out of the bargain no worse for wear.
By Jove, was he seriously considering this? He’d never been a fighting man—one might consider him a bit of a pacifist. He hardly ever cursed, even. But yes, he was thinking about taking Oglethorpe outside and teaching him a thing or two about how to treat a lady.
Like a wholly besotted fool.
Noah didn’t just want to defend Lady Tabitha’s honor because she was the sister of his brother-in-law and it was the right thing to do. No, there was something deeper than that. He’d just been too caught up in his own problems to recognize it for what it was.
He was smitten.
But he had to deal with a libertine ready to take him outside and land blows before he could see to convincing Lady Tabitha to fall head over ears in love with him.
“I hardly think that’s necessary, Oglethorpe,” Noah said as serenely as he could manage. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Leith had collected Lady Tabitha and moved her
to the dance floor. Good. “I might be forced to bloody your shirt, and the ladies would be scandalized.”
“Watch yourself, Devonport,” Oglethorpe said. “The next time we collide, I doubt I shall be so forgiving.”
“Noted,” Noah said. “You might register the same. Good evening to you.” Without further delay, he separated himself from the loathsome man and made his way across to his sister and Miss Faulkner.
He had other matters to attend to tonight.
~ * ~
Tabitha couldn’t remember the last time Lord Leith had asked her to dance. He asked Jo all the time. That would be nothing out of the ordinary. But whether it was due to him recognizing her reticence or simply because he never thought of it, they had not danced in a good many years, despite being at the same balls most nights of almost every Season. It had never bothered Tabitha any, either. Lord Leith was quite handsome and would be quite a catch for some pretty young debutante. But he would never look twice at a dowdy spinster like Tabitha.
Yet somehow she was dancing with him tonight, despite the tenderness still plaguing her ankle. Gracious, why had she leapt from the carriage? That had certainly not been her most brilliant moment in life. A point which Jo had been only too happy to make once Tabitha had finally allowed her entrance to the retiring room.
She turned one of the figures of the dance and her ankle slipped beneath her. She didn’t fall, but could not stop a grimace from making an appearance on her features, even if only for a brief moment.
Lord Leith’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You’re in pain.” A statement, not a question. Nothing slipped past the earl. Blast, why did he have to know her so well? “Should we go out to the garden? Earlier I spied a bench out there. We could sit and talk.”
“No, I’m fine.”
Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) Page 8