Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1)

by Catherine Gayle

  Shelton cursed aloud. “You’re right. We left the door ajar when we came in.”

  “You ought to learn to keep your voice down,” Raynesford admonished his younger brother.

  Noah didn’t have time for the brothers to get into one of their spats. He held up a hand for silence. “It doesn’t matter why she left. What matters is that we find her before she comes to harm.” Who knew what would happen to her if she was in a state and Oglethorpe or Eggerley came upon her.

  “You’re right, of course,” Raynesford said. “We should split up.”

  Shelton nodded. “She could have gone to see Jo. I’ll start there.”

  “Good,” Raynesford said. “Glanville and Lavinia got into Town yesterday, so they are a possibility as well. And their townhouse is near Pickford’s, so I’ll try there as a precaution. You should stop by and see Uncle Jasper and Aunt Vanessa. There is always a possibility she could have sought solace there, however unlikely it may be with Gerald and Isaac around. She doesn’t fancy their company much more than yours, Toby.”

  Goodness, they had a lot of relatives. At least Noah assumed they were all relatives. At any rate, he needed to get moving. There was no time to waste. “I’ll go to the more public places—Hyde Park, Gunter’s, and the like. She couldn’t have gotten much farther than there on foot, at least.” Especially since she had a sore ankle. But if someone had collected her in a carriage...

  He couldn’t think like that. He’d spend the remainder of his lifetime in Bedlam if he did.

  Shelton nodded. “Excellent. Let’s be off, then.”

  Only as Noah mounted his horse and took off toward Hyde Park did he fully realize the ramifications of Lady Tabitha overhearing their conversation.

  She knew he needed her money. She would never marry him now.

  Chapter Nine

  Every step caused Tabitha more pain. When she stepped down with the right foot, her ankle sobbed for a moment before adjusting to the burden of her weight. That was still better than the left; every time she shifted her weight to that foot, her knee screamed out in protest. She’d done more than just twinge it in the fall.

  Which made going out for a walk—alone—to an as yet undetermined destination one of the most thoroughly idiotic things she’d ever done in her life.

  She ought to have just gone into the drawing room and given Lord Devonport and her brothers a biting set down, letting them all know in no uncertain terms what she thought of fortune hunters and the sort of brothers who would encourage them. Failing that, she ought to have marched herself back upstairs and planted herself in her chamber to sulk while Hester tended to her ailing ankle.

  The ailing heart she would have to tend herself.

  Instead of doing either of these sensible things, she’d gone and added another injury to the growing list, thereby proving her superior intelligence.

  With the sharp pangs associated with each movement, Tabitha hadn’t even noticed where she was going. She ought to at least determine that. A brief glance around revealed her to be on Curzon Street, headed directly for Hyde Park. Goodness, she’d gone quite a bit farther than she had intended. If she’d really intended anything at all, that is, aside from getting away for a bit.

  The walk back was not something she wished to think about at present, yet it was something she really ought to think about sooner rather than later.

  If she had decided to start using her senses again, at least.

  Yet another conveyance pulled up alongside her. Tabitha had lost count of how many acquaintances had stopped to see if she needed assistance during her walk. She’d waved them all on their way with her assurance that she was quite all right. Even though she ought to accept a ride, she steeled herself to repeat the phrase that had become something of a refrain.

  “Lady Tabitha,” called out a familiar voice. She looked up to see Lord Oglethorpe leering down at her from the high seat of his phaeton. “Fancy meeting you here today. And all alone? Why on earth are you out by yourself on a day such as this?”

  “Good afternoon, my lord,” she began, intending to send him away as soon as possible, but a clap of thunder caught her off guard. Were they to have a storm? How had she been so unaware of the impending weather? But sure enough massive black thunderclouds converged in the skies and a fat raindrop landed on the path before her. Oh, dear. Perhaps the circumstances called for a change of plans. “I had thought to take a bit of exercise, but it suddenly seems rather foolhardy.”

  “Indeed,” he replied, “the skies look ominous. And you are without even a parasol to protect you. My phaeton is not covered, but perhaps we can have you safely home before the heavens open up and release their torrent. If not, at least you will be safe and dry sooner if you allow me to drive you than if you continue on foot.” Without even waiting for her response, Lord Oglethorpe climbed down and reached for her hand to assist her up.

  A clopping of racing hooves sounded behind her as two horses bore down upon them. “Lady Tabitha, thank goodness I’ve found you.” Lord Devonport. The absolute last person in all of England she wanted to see at the moment.

  “My apologies, my lord. I was unaware I was lost,” she replied tartly without turning to face him. Placing her hand in Lord Oglethorpe’s, she climbed into the phaeton and assumed her seat.

  “Your brothers and I are all out searching for you. Your maid was unaware where you went, ma’am. She said you were upset, that something had caused you discomfort.” The way he said ‘something’ caught her attention. Could he realize she had overheard their conversation? That didn’t matter. He knew what he was...and now Tabitha did as well. They were on even terrain.

  Tabitha finally looked at Lord Devonport. He seemed truly distraught, with clear blue eyes imploring to her and his mussed hair peeking out at odd angles from beneath his top hat. “Did she?” she asked. “She was mistaken. As you can see, I am perfectly well.”

  Lord Oglethorpe had resumed his seat beside her. Another crack of thunder sounded, startling the horses. The mare beside Lord Devonport, in particular, was spooked, dancing about and pulling at the reins before he could calm her. She wore a side-saddle. Good God! He’d intended to take her riding. Thank goodness she hadn’t gone with him.

  “You’ll have to excuse us, Devonport,” Lord Oglethorpe said. “I must get Lady Tabitha home as soon as possible or she’ll be drenched.”

  “I could take her,” Lord Devonport argued. “Her brothers expect me to return, whether I’ve located her or not. It would be no trouble.”

  What nerve he had. Lightning rent through the clouds, flashing in Lord Devonport’s eyes.

  “That will be quite unnecessary. Please proceed, Lord Oglethorpe.”

  With a flick of the reins, Lord Oglethorpe nudged the pair leading his phaeton into motion. Lord Devonport moved his horse into their path, blocking the way. “I’m afraid I must insist—”

  “What you must do,” Lord Oglethorpe sneered, “is get out of the way.” Another fat raindrop fell, landing on Tabitha’s gloved hand. The water spread to cover almost half of her glove. More drops followed soon behind, turning into a near deluge. “She will be drenched by the time I get her home as it is. If we take the time to transfer her from my phaeton to horseback, she will likely come down with the influenza, or a chill at the very least. Would you like that on your conscience?”

  Lord Devonport hesitated. He looked from Tabitha to Lord Oglethorpe, then back again.

  Another streak of lightning raced across the sky and a great boom sounded, and still Lord Devonport had not made up his mind.

  The fine muslin fabric of Tabitha’s gown had already indelicately plastered itself to her, outlining every nook and cranny of the body she wished to hide. She hugged her arms to her chest to warm herself as best she could, but her arms could only do so much. “Go, Lord Oglethorpe. Please.” She would beg if she must, but remaining where they were would serve no one. Her teeth chattered from the sudden chill.

  Finally, Lord Devonport nodd
ed and backed his horse away, allowing the phaeton to pass. “I’ll follow you.”

  Tabitha pushed the now limp form of her bonnet back from her eyes and stared Lord Devonport through. “No. You’ve done quite enough already. Go home, my lord.” He acted as though he had not heard her, nudging his horse into motion and pulling on the reins of the mare to come alongside him. Soon, he rode directly to her right, wearing a grave expression.

  Lord Oglethorpe looked down at her with concern. “Do you want his escort?”

  A decision must be made: one fortune hunter or two? Feeling a rush of reckless abandon, Tabitha shook her head. “No. I wish to have nothing to do with Lord Devonport. He is a scamp of the first order. A fortune hunter, and no more.” Her voice carried over the onslaught of the deluge.

  Lord Devonport looked crestfallen but resolute. Immediately, she wanted to take her words back.

  “I will see you safely home, my lady. Then I will go.”

  For the moment, Tabitha was glad for the rain; it concealed her tears.

  ~ * ~

  “Oh, my lady!” Hester said as Noah and Oglethorpe assisted Lady Tabitha through the door. Noah had attempted to carry her in his arms, but she’d struggled against him. Oglethorpe had then made it near impossible with his own attempts to do the same.

  “Get a fire started in her chamber right away,” Noah ordered the butler. The man gave a curt nod and rushed off. He didn’t seem to mind that Noah had no business giving orders at Shelton Hall. Good. The maid had better be the same. “Get her upstairs and out of these wet things immediately, Hester.” It took everything in him not to toss Lady Tabitha over his shoulder right that very moment and handle it himself. Particularly since he could almost see through the sheer fabric of her gown. He wanted to rip it all off of her and warm her himself. But now was not the time for such thoughts. “She needs to be dry and warm, and she is not to leave her chamber at all the rest of the day. Can I count on you to see to it?”

  The maid nodded, but Lady Tabitha pulled her arm free from him before extricating her other arm from Lord Oglethorpe. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Lord Devonport,” she said.

  Her pelisse didn’t cover enough. Not nearly enough. The wet material hugged her hips and drew Noah’s eyes. It attracted Oglethorpe’s attention, too. She crossed her newly freed arms over her chest again, as she had done in the phaeton earlier, which served to lift her generous breasts higher and push them closer together. Good Lord in heaven. Noah closed his eyes to regain his focus.

  “Weren’t you supposed to be going now?” Oglethorpe asked. The bastard had the audacity to narrow his eyes. “She is home. She is safe.”

  “That she is, Oglethorpe,” Shelton said, coming out from the drawing room. “Thank you for your assistance. I’m sure we can handle things from here.” When Oglethorpe didn’t immediately begin to leave, he continued, “You ought to get home and dry yourself. Kindly cease dripping water all over my father’s floors.”

  Oglethorpe bowed to Lady Tabitha. “If you require no more assistance from me, my lady, I shall take my leave. Might I see you at Lady Mallinder’s dinner party tomorrow evening?”

  Shelton frowned. “We’re not attending—”

  “Yes,” Lady Tabitha cut in with a glare in her brother’s direction. “Yes, I’ll see you there, my lord.”

  Well, that changed Noah’s plans for the next day. He’d have to arrange for his secretary send Lady Mallinder an acceptance first thing.

  Oglethorpe smiled at her, a greasy, sycophantic sort of grin. “Until then.” He backed away and turned to leave before stopping short. “Devonport, aren’t you coming as well?”

  Shelton stomped over and held the door wide. “I have need of Devonport. He’s staying.” He placed a firm hand on Oglethorpe’s shoulder and pressed, leaving the interloper no option but to leave. “Good day to you.” Then he closed the door in Oglethorpe’s bemused face.

  Lady Tabitha let out a huff in the background. She had every right to be cross. Hopefully, Noah could find a way to handle her disgruntlement. What he absolutely could not handle was seeing Oglethorpe with his hand on her person, or even seeing the cad in her presence, for one moment longer. Thankfully, Shelton was of the same mind on that accord.

  Drawing a deep breath, Shelton turned to the lady’s maid. “Hester, take Lady Tabitha above stairs and do as Lord Devonport instructed.”

  Lady Tabitha bristled. “Hester is my maid. She does not answer to you. She most certainly does not answer to Lord Devonport. Who, by the way, claimed he would see me safely home and then leave. I want him to do so.”

  “I don’t care what you want, Tabitha. What I want to know is why you thought it wise to tramp off on foot to some undisclosed destination without a chaperone and then get caught in a rainstorm,” Shelton countered, moving in to intimidate. “I want to know how you came to be in Oglethorpe’s company and why you would prefer his company to Devonport’s. I want to know why you are standing in the hallway in a paper-thin gown that is practically painted to your skin, not to mention rather transparent, and haven’t done a damned thing to cover yourself.”

  Noah didn’t need the reminder. He did his best not to groan aloud.

  With her brother’s last comment, she looked down. Lady Tabitha let out a gasp, as though she had somehow failed to notice how poorly the fabric covered her. She tugged frantically at her pelisse, though in its doused state her efforts proved fruitless.

  When she remained silent, Shelton softened his tone. “Go upstairs, Tabitha. Get yourself dry and warm.” He caught Hester’s eye, and the maid silently led her mistress away.

  Noah watched her go, until he realized he was staring like a green lad at the gentle sway of her hips, imagining them unclothed. He abruptly shifted his gaze to Shelton, but that was no better. The knowing look in the man’s eyes was unsettling.

  “Where did you find her?” Shelton asked. He led Noah into the drawing room and motioned him near the hearth, where a small blaze was burning.

  “Curzon Street. Almost to Hyde Park. Oglethorpe beat me to her.” Luckily the villain had not yet absconded with her. Oglethorpe could have ruined her within a few moments, if Noah hadn’t arrived when he had. On second thought...would have, not could have.

  “I don’t trust the bastard,” Shelton said. “He is too unctuous by half, particularly when he’s around Tabitha.”

  If only Shelton knew what Noah knew. “I don’t trust him either. I couldn’t leave her alone with him, even though she was furious with me.” He would never be able to live with himself if he had left her alone in Oglethorpe’s presence. She could thank him for his interference later—when she understood.

  If she ever understood. She might never choose to see any difference between Noah and Oglethorpe. They were both fortune hunters, after all.

  Shelton gave a grim smile. “Well, she is home now. She’s safe. You ought to go and dry off. It wouldn’t do for you to become ill.”

  Fighting the urge to follow Lady Tabitha upstairs and take care of her himself was proving far more problematic than Noah ever would have imagined. But he had to trust her care to her brothers. At least for now. At least until he convinced her to marry him. “You’ll be sure she is well?”

  “Of course,” Shelton replied caustically. “I want her in perfect health when I murder her for giving us all such a scare.”

  Noah wanted her in perfect health for very different reasons. He couldn’t get the image of her wet body out of his mind—the round hips, the perfect, soft mounds of her breasts, the smooth peachy, creamy skin. He wanted to do things to her. Wet things. Slippery things. By Jove, he needed to remove that image from his mind. He’d never survive another day in her company, otherwise.

  ~ * ~

  Hester’s eyes were fretful. “My lady, you must come down to see Lord Devonport. At least for a brief time. Your father insists.” The maid wrung her hands together as she looked over at Tabitha nonchalantly writing in a diary.


  “Father can insist all he wants. I refuse to see the man.” Not yet. Not now. Not while she was still so angry and hurt and addled. Not while she couldn’t erase the image of him riding steadfastly alongside her, drenched to the bone and shivering, refusing to leave her side. It was only one day past the wretched event. Tabitha put down her quill and closed the diary before facing her maid fully. “I know you don’t fancy delivering this news to my father. I’ll do it. He ought to take his frustrations out on me instead of you anyway.”

  Finally, Hester seemed able to breathe again. “Are you certain? I could do it.” Her tone held little, if any, conviction.

  Tabitha stood and winced. Just when her ankle seemed to finally be on the mend, she was forced to favor the knee on the other leg, thereby putting more pressure on the ankle. Who knew fleeing from confrontation could be so painful? Still, she steeled herself against the discomfort and made her way through the corridors to her father’s private study. A sharp knock at the door was followed almost immediately by “Come!” A liveried footman pushed the door open wide, and Tabitha crossed the threshold into a room filled with the scents of leather and wood.

  Father was poring over his ledgers, but after a moment he glanced up at her. “Yes?” he prodded. “Why are you here and not below stairs with your gentleman caller?” A lock of his graying hair fell over his gray eyes—the very same eyes as Tabitha’s—and he hastily brushed it aside.

  “I have no desire to see Lord Devonport,” she said. Father’s eyes flashed silver for a moment, but she pressed on. “He has made it clear he only wants my dowry. He does not want me. I’ll not have him.”

  “And just how did he make such a thing clear to you? Did he tell you as much?”

  “No. I overheard a conversation.”