“Well, now, I rather think it is. After all, I in a sense played Cupid to you two, didn’t I? Don’t like to think of my handiwork failing.” There was a smile on Curzon’s lips, but the ice blue eyes glittered dangerously, and Davida backed up against Pelham.
“Run along, Harry, that’s a good boy. Your companion there is not fit company for Davida, as you well know.”
As if he had forgotten her existence, Curzon turned and surveyed the young woman at his side for a moment. Then he gave her a little push on the shoulder. “Run along, my dove. I’ll catch up momentarily.” The girl gave Davida a resentful stare before walking away.
Davida’s eyes widened with curiosity as well as dismay at this, her first encounter with the “muslin company.” She felt a little sorry for the cavalier treatment the young woman was receiving.
Turning back, Curzon bowed to Davida. “Beg your pardon, Miss Gresham. Do you require any assistance? Shall I escort you back to your party?”
Davida, pressed against Pelham’s side, could feel him draw in an indignant breath. Before he could get a word out, though, she rushed into speech. “No, no, Mr. Curzon, all is well. Please do not concern yourself . . .”
“You will always concern me, Miss Gresham.”
“That will do, Harry.” Pelham stepped forward, anger suffusing his features.
“Yes, I suppose it will. For now. I bid you good evening, Miss Gresham.” He bowed again and walked on.
Davida found that she was trembling uncontrollably. Pelham felt it and put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her a little way down a side path, less brightly lit, on which a convenient bench welcomed them.
“Sit down, Davie. Why are you trembling?”
She shook her head. “He looks so . . . so . . . dangerous. I was afraid he’d hurt you.”
“Hurt me? Davie, I’m not afraid of Harrison Curzon.”
“Perhaps you should be.”
“Look at me!” So unfamiliar was such a tone of command from her fiancé that Davida flinched a little as she met the deep blue eyes, now narrowed and as hard as Curzon’s ever had been. “I repeat. I am not afraid of Harrison Curzon. I can protect you from him or any other man, nor do I require you to protect me from him!”
Davida felt the strong force emanating from the young man she had thought of as the soul of gentleness. It alarmed her, yet at the same time it made her feel very secure to know that he stood able and determined to protect her.
“What did he do to you, Davie?” Pelham had not discussed with Davida the reason for her breakup with Curzon. Now his curiosity—and his suspicions—were aroused. “If he has molested you in any way, I’ll make him pay!”
“Nothing. It’s just that he . . . he was not at all happy that I refused his offer. He was very jealous of you, and I think he’s capable of violence.”
“Most men are, if it comes to that. But you can’t live your life fearing Curzon. If ever he bothers you, I will put a stop to it instantly. Nor can you live in fear of Elspeth, for that matter. You still haven’t told me why you abandoned me for Eberlin.”
“Oh, Monty, give over. I know you still care about her. The minute you spotted her, you quivered and went stiff, like a bird dog on point. And your indignation about her costume is a bit too like that of a jealous lover, frankly.”
“She means nothing to me.” Her eyes reproached him for his dishonesty. He looked down for a moment, and then lifted his compelling gaze to hers. “Old habits die hard, I suppose. I was used to concern myself with her welfare, and I cannot think it best for her to display herself so. But it’s none of my concern. You are, Davie. Are you still trembling out of fear, or are you cold?”
“I . . . I’m feeling chilled.” Davida wasn’t sure why she was trembling, but she felt much better when he drew her near, chafing her arms through her cloak.
“Should you like to go home now?”
Davida quickly agreed. The magic had gone out of the evening for her. She walked with him along the lighted walkways, seeing nothing of the whirl of humanity around her, seeing only Pelham’s eyes riveted to Elspeth.
Chapter Sixteen
If Davida had been disturbed by the encounter with Elspeth at Vauxhall, she was almost devastated when, two evenings later, she entered the withdrawing room at the Duke of Ormond’s ball to discover Elspeth following right behind her.
“Miss Gresham, may I speak with you?”
“Of course, Lady Elspeth. What may I . . .”
Abruptly Elspeth began to cry bitterly. “Oh, I love him so much. Why did I give him up? Why?”
There was a great deal more in this vein. Davida awkwardly attempted to comfort the girl. At last the blonde gained control of herself and stepped away, her back to Davida.
“It’s me he loves, you know,” she murmured.
Davida said nothing. She couldn’t assert the contrary. Though Pelham seemed very fond of her and openly appreciative of her good qualities, he had certainly never pretended to love her. She felt her heart beating heavily in her breast, a sense of dread weighing her down.
Correctly interpreting her silence, Elspeth turned to Davida, a look of triumph on her face. “He does! He loves me! He’d marry me in a moment if we were free!”
“But you aren’t, Lady Elspeth. By your own choice, I might add.”
“I would break off with Whitham. I know now it was a terrible mistake to become engaged to him. I only did it to punish Monty. But you’ll never let him go, and he’s far too honorable to break off himself, even though it’s me he loves.”
Davida drew back in horror. This was what she had most feared. Struggling for self-control, she measured her words carefully.
“I would never hold Monty against his wishes. My parents, my father would cut up rough if I cried off, but you see, I love Monty, too. I want him to be happy. If his happiness truly lies with you, I’ll break our engagement somehow, if I have to run away to do it.”
Elspeth reached impulsively for Davida’s hands and squeezed them. “Oh, thank you, thank you, Miss Gresham. You are the best of friends to us both. He said you were a good-hearted girl.” She turned and swirled out of the room, leaving Davida feeling as if she’d been thrown and trampled.
She found her mother and told her she had a headache. “I’ll get Monty,” her mother said.
“No, let’s just go and leave a message for him. He is enjoying himself in the card room. I hate to call him away.”
Her mother gave her a strange look. “I don’t think he will like that.”
“Truly, Mama, I don’t want to cling to him too tightly. He may come to chafe at being forever in my pocket, whether he realizes it or not.”
So they ordered Monty’s carriage, leaving a message with their hostess that they would send it back for Lord Pelham as soon as they reached their destination.
In the carriage Davida told her mother what had happened. Lady Elizabeth protested, “Oh, my dear, she can’t try to reclaim him now. We are little more than two weeks from the wedding.”
“I tried to tell you and Papa how it would be.”
“And besides, she will surely find your fiancé unwilling to end your engagement. I am persuaded he is very fond of you, Davida, and then it is not at all the thing . . .”
Davida dropped her head back against the squabs. “Fond, Mother! How can that weigh against a deep attachment? And do you think I can bear to trap him in a marriage he doesn’t want, merely out of propriety?”
“Say nothing to your father, Davida. He will not be at all easy to deal with. No sense upsetting him unless we know it is absolutely necessary. You must discuss the matter with Monty and determine that it is truly what he wants, first.”
Pelham was on their doorstep at ten the next morning. “I’ve come to inquire of Davida’s health. She left the ball early last night complaining of the headache,” he informed her father, who was still reading the paper over his breakfast.
“Ah, yes. Davida is lying abed this morning. I think she is a
little pulled by all of this activity. Elizabeth has gone off already on one of these eternal fittings. Be glad you’re not a female, m’boy. They spend half their lives buying clothes and the other half changing into and out of them!”
Pelham grinned his agreement and companionably accepted his future father-in-law’s invitation to join him for coffee. “Then I’ve got to push off. Know you won’t credit it, but I’ve got a fitting, too. Blue coat.” He groaned. “Why do weddings have to be in the morning?”
Pelham’s first hint of Elspeth’s broken engagement was just as he was leaving the master tailor Weston after his fitting. Lord Threlbourne and Arnold Lanscombe called to him from across the street.
“What’s to do, Gil?” Pelham asked after he dodged traffic to join them.
It was Lanscombe who replied. “Town’s buzzing. Lady Elspeth has broken off her engagement with Whitham.” He watched eagerly for some sign of emotion in Pelham.
“So Elspeth is playing off her tricks on Donald, eh? Well, glad it’s his problem now and not mine.” Whatever was in his mind, Pelham’s countenance was perfectly composed and gave away nothing to the gossiping dandy.
“Betting is already going into the books at White’s, Monty, that it is your problem.” Threlbourne’s look was accusatory. “Odds on favorite that you’ll break off with Davida Gresham and take a run at Gretna with Elspeth or some such.”
“Gretna? With Elspeth?” Pelham’s astonishment was genuine. “Surely you didn’t lay your blunt on that side, Gil.”
The red-haired lord shook his head sadly. “Not betting on this one. But the word is, Davida left without your escort last night, just after a tête à tête with Elspeth in Ormond’s withdrawing room. The two of you have been joined at the hip since your engagement, so it’s not surprising people are wondering.”
Fury was Pelham’s primary emotion at this moment. “The witch,” he exploded. “It would be like her to tell Davida her plans, and worse. I must be going.” He turned abruptly and dashed for his curricle, held at the ready for him by his tiger.
At the Greshams’ he found confirmation of his fears in Davida’s face. Her shadowed eyes looked at him with anxiety as he entered the drawing room. Several people were seated there, callers avid to share the latest on-dit with the Greshams, no doubt. With great effort, Pelham forced his expression to be pleasant and relaxed.
The silence that descended when he entered told him all too clearly what was the topic of discussion.
Briskly crossing the room, Pelham took Davida’s hand and drew her to her feet under the watchful eyes of her parents and their visitors. “Sorry to rush you away from your guests, dearest,” he drawled, kissing her fingertips lovingly. “But we are invited to tea with my mother. I believe she wants to show you the Pelham jewels this afternoon. Had you forgotten?”
The relief in her parents’ eyes and the quick murmur around the room told him his strategy was successful, at least with everyone but Davida. She walked ahead of him like a condemned woman to her execution.
It was a cool, misty day, more like March than May, and Pelham had brought his landau, with the top up. He handed Davida inside and took his seat beside her before she could protest the lack of a chaperon.
“I am sure your reputation will survive a three-block drive with your intended,” he responded when she became agitated.
“That does not signify just now. Oh, Monty, is it possible you haven’t heard?” Davida searched his face anxiously.
“Heard what, Davie? I’ve heard nothing that concerns you or me.” He picked up her hand and drew off her glove.
“Don’t Monty. Listen. Lady Elspeth has cried off.” She tried to tug her hand away, her voice choked.
“Oh, that. Yes, I’d heard. She’s getting to be a regular jilt.” He carried her hand to his lips and began to press light kisses on her wrist and palm.
It was wicked of him to tease her so. Indignantly she confronted him. “Don’t pretend it’s nothing to you, Monty. I know . . .”
“You know nothing if you think I still want Elspeth! I wouldn’t have her. She is fickle, in addition to all her other faults.”
“Give over!” Davida cried. “If ever there was a time for complete honesty, this is it. You know you want me to cry off so you can marry her, and I will. I won’t hold you to your engagement, Monty.”
“No, you won’t cry off. Now, Davie, listen to me.” Pelham spoke vehemently. “If you were to cry off, and I were perfectly free to do so, I wouldn’t marry Elspeth Howard. I decided the day of the picnic that she and I wouldn’t suit. I won’t pretend it didn’t cost me some pain to give her up, but it was the only solution. We are chalk and cheese. I thank goodness that I found out in time.”
“Oh, Monty, are you sure?” Davida felt a rising tide of joy within her as she crept into the arms Pelham gently wrapped around her.
“Not only am I sure and certain that Elspeth and I won’t suit, I am equally as sure that you and I will. My delight with you has grown day by day, Davida Gresham.” He tilted her chin up so he could look her squarely in the eyes. “I am literally counting the hours now until you will be my bride.”
Davida sighed and raised her head for the kiss he was intent on bestowing. She savored the delicious fiery bubbling sensations that ran through her. “I can hardly wait, either.”
Thus delightfully occupied, it was several minutes before the couple became aware that the carriage had stopped outside the Pelhams’ town house, an imposing mansion in the most fashionable street in town.
“Do I look disheveled?” Davida tested her hair and patted at her clothes.
“No, though I am afraid you do have a look about you.” The mischief was dancing in those cobalt eyes.
“What . . . what sort of look?”
“Oh, the look of a girl who’s been thoroughly and expertly kissed.” He smiled smugly as he handed her down from the carriage.
Davida gasped, cheeks pink. “I can’t face your mother like that!”
“Nonsense. If she’s heard this latest on dit, nothing is like to reassure her more.”
“Reassure? I am persuaded she would far rather have Lady Elspeth for a daughter-in-law.”
“You are fair and far out there, my girl. She already had her doubts, and when Elspeth got herself engaged to Whitham, Mother washed her hands of her.”
Though Davida was dubious, Pelham’s mother had never been less than completely cordial to her, and it seemed that she bent over backward to be gracious this day. “Perhaps she hasn’t heard yet,” Davida whispered as she stood frowning at her reflection in a mirror. Pelham was arranging an elaborate collar of diamonds around her neck as his mother sorted through jewelry boxes laid out on a long table in the back drawing room.
“Let’s find out. Have you heard the latest, Mama? Lady Elspeth has ended her engagement to Lord Whitham.”
“Yes, you wretch, of course. Several tabbies practically broke down my door to tell me this morning. Did she have the town crier spread the news, I wonder? Here, Davida, these emeralds will become you far more. That piece is too heavy. Monty, you must have them remounted for her. I never liked them either.”
“Exquisite,” Pelham applauded when Davida had donned the ornate gold-wire-and-emerald necklace.
“Yes,” his mother agreed. “It’s an old piece, but not as heavy as the other. Davida wears it well. My dear, you must wear it for your come-out. Or, no, I collect it will not go with your gown?” At Davida’s nod, she suggested, “Then to the Raleighs’ ball?”
“Oh, but should I, before we are married?”
“It will be little more than a week away by then. I don’t see why not, unless it won’t go with your gown. Ah, I knew there were matching earrings.” Lady Pelham lifted them triumphantly from the cascade of precious stones before her. “Try them, too.”
Feeling truly relaxed and happy for the first time since her betrothal, Davida cuddled next to Pelham in the landau on the way home, the box containing the Pelham emerald
s in her lap. She was finally convinced it was she Pelham wanted to marry, and she felt truly accepted by his mother.
“What a wonderful day,” she sighed as she leaned against Pelham’s shoulder.
He grinned and put his arm around her, drawing her close and dropping a quick kiss on her lips.
“You look happy, for once.”
“I am happy. Oh, Monty. I will try to be a good wife. I think we can deal very well together, don’t you?”
“I grow more sure of it with each passing day.” A surge of tenderness went through Pelham at her radiant face tilted up to him. She was a delight. How lucky he was to have found her.
In this self-congratulatory mood, Pelham took Davida home and then returned to his own to dress for dinner.
That life was not always going to be quite so pleasant he quickly realized when his butler greeted him with a bit of unwelcome news. “There is a . . . ah . . . person, to see you, my lord,” Hilton informed him. “She is in the library.”
Chapter Seventeen
“A ‘Person,’ Hilton?” Lord Pelham stared at his dignified butler. He was not accustomed to such visitations as were so many other pinks of the ton, and he felt somewhat nonplussed.
“Yes, sir. A young lady, it is, veiled. Didn’t give her name, but I am sure you’ll want to see her, my lord.”
It’s Elspeth, as Hilton damn well knows, Pelham guessed with a sinking feeling. The wily butler would have been unlikely to put an unknown female in Pelham’s favorite retreat. He entered the library reluctantly.
“Close the door,” a too-familiar voice commanded, and then the veiled hat was tossed aside to reveal Elspeth, dressed in an almost transparent leaf green muslin that heightened the green of her eyes and displayed her charms blatantly.
“What are you doing here, Lady Elspeth? You must leave at once.” His coldly angry voice lashed out at his visitor.
“Don’t, Monty. Please, listen to me. You obviously haven’t heard.” Lady Elspeth held her hands out to him dramatically. “I’ve broken my engagement to Whitham.”
“Of course I’ve heard,” Pelham responded coolly, ignoring the invitation to embrace her. “Is there anybody in England who hasn’t?”
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