The Audacious Miss

by Joan Vincent

Greydon bowed to Lady Darby and raised Audacia’s hand to his lips. His expression remained unchanged as colour flared to her cheeks and her foot casually stepped forward upon his highly polished silver-buckled shoe when she curtsied in response.

  The impish smile Audacia gave the earl turned to one of pure pleasure when the gentleman behind him took her hand. “Geoffrey!” she shouted and was barely able to restrain the hug she would have given him but for the viscountess’ startled “Audacia!”

  “Squire Webster is a neighbour from Bedworth,” she offered in explanation, squeezing his hand in welcome.

  A disapproving frown remained upon Lady Darby’s features. “You are quite welcome it seems,” she snipped.

  “My lord.” She held Audacia’s hand out to Greydon. “It is time to take our places.”

  Geoffrey winked and smiled warmly at Audacia before the earl led the reluctant miss to the centre of the dancing salon.

  A murmur ran through those standing about as the two took their place. Greydon, large-shouldered, slim-hipped and raven-haired, was stunningly handsome in his black and white form-fitting evening clothes. Audacia was strangely matched to him in her high-waisted gown of black silk with its overdress of silver tissue. The gown’s colour had been a startling choice for a young miss, but totally effective with Audacia’s slim looks and crowning sable locks now pulled back and allowed to cascade to her gown’s neckline.

  The two stood intent upon each other as they waited for the music to begin. Slowly but surely Audacia felt something insider her drawn to the earl. Her spirit seemed to awaken and ask answer to some need. She knew not how she managed to follow the steps but suddenly the last soft notes faded and she sank into a curtsy at Greydon’s bow.

  “Who is that pair?” Patrick Darby demanded of Trotter. The viscount’s son had entered the salon just as the dance had begun and like all those there had watched the entrancing couple flow smoothly through the motions of the dance.

  “The young lady is the guest of honour this eve—Miss Audacia Aderly. The gentleman is, I believe, the Earl of Greydon,” the butler answered tonelessly.

  “Mother’s guest you say. Hmmmm.” He eyed Audacia appraisingly. “I like not the way the man stares at her,” young Darby bit out, shifting his attention to Greydon. “Mayhaps I shall teach him to treat our guest with proper manners. If this chit is who Mother wrote of, I am, for once, in wholehearted agreement with her plans.”

  Chapter 12

  Lady Darby guided Audacia away from Lord Greydon before either of them could speak. “Patrick has arrived. He shall lead you in the next set.

  “Ah, Patrick,” she gushed, dropping Audacia’s hand to give her own to the haughty young man before her.

  He kissed his mother’s dutifully and then took Audacia’s. “Is this Miss Aderly, Mother? Your letters have not done her justice,” he began with practiced ease.

  “It is delightful to meet you at last.”

  Her experience with Lord Greydon caused Audacia quickly to draw her hand back when Darby bowed. This action displeased him and his thin lips creased and tightened slightly.

  “Take your places, my dears,” Lady Darby prompted, nudging the pair towards the dancers.

  Rejoining Geoffrey and the women, Roland situated himself where he could easily watch Audacia. His smile tightened when he saw Darby capture Audacia’s reluctant hand, but it broadened and a light chuckle escaped as only a few steps into the set with Audacia, Darby tripped. “That is Darby,” he answered Geoffrey’s questioning nod.

  “Your . . . Miss Aderly is very attractive,” Lady Lucille noted as she watched the dancing pair.

  “I am somewhat surprised at her transformation,” the squire answered, his tone very serious. “At Bedworth Miss Aderly’s style was rather more rustic.”

  “Even mannish,” interpolated Greydon.

  “You know Miss Aderly, Roland?” Lady Mandel asked, her interest stirred.

  “Why, no . . . that is, I had seen Miss Aderly during my stay at Web Manor and Geoff spoke of her quite often so that I felt I knew her well—without ever having met her.”

  Lady Lucille misunderstood Geoffrey’s smile at Greydon’s discomfort. “You think highly of Miss Aderly, do you not, Squire Webster?”

  Her use of so formal an address twisted Geoffrey’s heart as much as her downcast eyes. “She is to be admired for her ability to help others,” he answered honestly. “But there are other women I admire for different reasons,” he said attempting to catch her gaze.

  A knowing smile, tempered by knowledge and maturity, played upon Lady Mandel’s features as she watched the interplay between the three beside her. This Season shall be livelier. Certe, more interesting than any for many a year, she thought as she followed her son’s gaze to Miss Aderly.

  “Lady Darby appears very well pleased with the pair,” she noted to no one in particular.

  Frowns came to both Greydon and Webster.

  “Let us dance, Lucille,” Greydon said, taking her hand and leading her towards the dancers before she could refuse.

  “Your daughter is very lovely, Lady Mandel,” Geoffrey told the marchioness earnestly.

  “Yes, but I fear she has placed herself upon the shelf. At six and twenty she has rebuffed too many suitors to be able to hope any shall offer for her hand,” she noted with practiced disinterest.

  The tiny spark of hope in Geoffrey’s heart kindled into a feeble flame.

  The music ended once more and the various couples walked from the floor. The salon was becoming very crowded and there was some inevitable jostling, but young Darby bumped against Lord Greydon with far more force than was necessary. Catching his balance, the earl murmured an apology and led Lady Lucille back to their mother.

  “The oaf,” Darby told Audacia scornfully. “Thinks a title gives him the right to everything.”

  Taking in the young man’s narrowed eyes as he stared after Greydon, a sudden chill came over Audacia. Animosity seemed to hover over Darby. “You should ask Helene for the next dance,” she said, seeking to shake her dislike.

  Darby gave a derisive hoot. “Dance with a schoolgirl? My sister no less? What reason could I have for doing so ludicrous a thing?” he scoffed.

  “With so many years between your ages,” Audacia began, biting back the reprimand that battled to be free, “Helene feels yon care very little for her. Your maturity should tell you that a show of affection on your part would please her greatly.”

  Something in Audacia’s look caused Darby to change the words he thought to say. Instead he bowed lowly. “To please you I would do anything, Miss Aderly. I go to do as you bid.”

  Restraining her desire to kick the pompous egotist in the seat of his overly tight breeches, Audacia tapped her foot irritably. She sighed with relief at Helene’s joy as Patrick led her toward the assembling dancers.

  Free of Darby and of his mother’s grasp for the moment, she made straight for Squire Webster, who was talking with Greydon, Lady Lucille, and Lady Mandel. After murmuring greetings to the others, she placed her hand on his arm. “I am so glad you could come, Geoffrey. It will make London seem all that you said it was. How does my father do? His work must be occupying him. I have not heard a word since our arrival here.”

  “I believe his experiments have been going well. The last time I visited him he said he hoped to be ready for the early harvest,” Geoffrey offered, smiling at her heightened colour and the fact that her gaze strayed to Roland.

  “It would be so good to have Father here. He told me Daniel would be coming with a friend from school. A Lord Hillern, I believe. I am so looking forward to seeing him.”

  “Is this Daniel the beau who sent you that exquisite posy?” Lady Mandel asked with a warm smile.

  “Mayhap that is who is responsible for it,” Audacia said glancing down at the wildflowers. “It has been a mystery to me. Father would not think to do it and I could think of no one else who would be so knowledgeable about my love of the woods’ flowers.
r />   “But Daniel? No, my brother is not the sort to do it either,” she decided.

  “You, Geoffrey,” her sparkling eyes swung to him. “It was you, was it not? How am I to thank you?”

  “Be assured you owe me none,” he protested. “‘Twas not I who sent it, although I wish I had thought of it.”

  Audacia eyed him doubtfully.

  “There you are, Audacia. Patrick and I have been seeking you. Lady Mandel. Lord Greydon. Lady Lucille.” The viscountess nodded at each patronizingly.

  “We were just admiring Miss Aderly’s lovely bouquet,” Lady Lucille said to break he sudden silence. “I cannot understand anyone not being willing to acknowledge such a delightful, delicate tribute,” she added, her gaze on Geoffrey.

  “Then I feel obliged to solve the mystery,” Lady Darby twittered. “Patrick just told me it was he who sent it.”

  All eyes flew to young Darby.

  “I am most gratified that it has pleased you so,” he told Audacia with a bow.

  “Why . . . yes . . . thank you,” she murmured, not truly willing to believe it he was responsible.

  “For my reward I lay claim to this dance,” Darby told her and captured her hand.

  One look at Lady Darby told Audacia she dare not refuse.

  “Aren’t they a lovely pair,” the viscountess commented as they walked away. “Lady Aderly was such a dear friend, God rest her soul. I just know she would have been so pleased to see her daughter and my son together.”

  “They are to be betrothed, then?” the marchioness asked.

  “Of course there has been no formal announcement but . . .” She turned back to watch the pair, her manner leaving only one conclusion.

  Looking to the squire, Lady Lucille saw his growing scowl and bit her lip. There was no doubt that he had not been pleased by the announcement. A heartfelt sigh escaped her.

  “I fear we must be taking our leave, Lady Darby,” the marchioness told her hostess. “Lord Mandel is expecting us at the Earl of Liverpool’s—some official gathering,” she explained.

  “I understand completely, do not fear. We were delighted you could come,” Lady Darby simpered.

  “We shall look for you at Almack’s, Thursday next, then,” Lord Greydon told her as he bowed.

  A deeper red tinged the viscountess’ rouged cheeks. “I fear . . . I fear that will not be possible. I . . . of course, we could attend, but Audacia has no vouchers. I would not think of leaving the poor girl alone.”

  “Bring Miss Aderly, I shall obtain the vouchers,” Lady Mandel told the viscountess prodded by a telling nudge from her son. “Lady Castlereagh is a dear friend and will gladly oblige.”

  “Why, thank you. I know Audacia will be so pleased. I must tell her at once. So kind of you to have come,” Lady Darby nodded at the small group, dropped a light curtsy, and triumphantly joined her husband at the edge of the dancers.

  * * * *

  “You are the most graceful dancer I have had the happy occasion to partner,” Patrick told a sceptical Audacia.

  The young lady nodded. She continued to scan the throng for signs of the squire.

  “If it is Mother you seek,” Darby said, “she is there by Father. Let us join them.” Taking hold of Audacia’s elbow, he pushed their way through the crowd to his parents’ side.

  Lady Darby beamed at the pair. “My dears, what an attractive couple you present.

  “Audacia, I have the best of news,” she twittered. “You are to go to Almack’s. Lady Mandel has kindly offered to attain your vouchers! To think, you and Patrick shall be among the ton.” She sighed happily. The end of these past troublesome years is at hand, she thought.

  “My congratulations, Mother,” Patrick bowed. “You have been successful beyond words. And now I have a surprise for you both.” He nodded at his mother and Audacia. “You both shall wish to reward me handsomely for this.” Darby smirked knowingly.

  The brunt of his attention fell on Audacia, who was hard put to keep her expression bland. She saw young Darby raised his hand as if to direct someone to them. Hesitating to show enthusiasm for anything he might proffer, Audacia lowered her gaze.

  “Am I so unworthy of note?” a well-known voice whispered in her ear.

  Whirling about, Audacia forgot all of Lady Darby’s hard-taught lessons on decorum. “Daniel!” she shouted joyfully and embraced him warmly.

  “Mother, Father, I present the Honourable Mr. Daniel Aderly. Mr. Aderly, my parents, Lord and Lady Darby.”

  Bowing deeply, Daniel acknowledged their nods. “It is a pleasure to meet you both. Father has spoken highly of you for years. Your present kindness to my sister is beyond my gratitude,” he told them, beaming happily. “Will you excuse Audacia and I so that we may join the others for this country set?”

  “Of course,” Lady Darby gushed. “We are all here to enjoy ourselves.” When the two had walked away she laid her hand upon her son’s arm.

  “Very well done, my dear boy. You would not have been more effective had I coached you. First the flowers and now her brother. I underestimated you, my son.”

  Chapter 13

  Audacia and Helene begged a reprieve from going with Lady Darby to make a morning call upon the Saltouns. They were enjoying their free morn in the small receiving salon when Trotter announced Squire Webster.

  “Oh, Geoffrey, I am so glad you could come. Have you seen Daniel yet? He arrived at the soiree just after you left. When shall we all be together?”

  “Slowly,” the squire laughed. “You take my breath away. Geoffrey motioned to Helene. First introduce me to this charming young lady,”

  “Squire Webster, may I present the Honourable Miss Helene Darby.”

  “Charmed.” Geoffrey gallantly took her hand and kissed the air above it lightly.

  Tongue-tied by such attention, Helene stared in admiring wonder. Then she noticed Geoffrey’s pinned sleeve. “Does the lack of your arm pain you?” she asked with youthful bluntness.

  “It has not for some time,” he answered her with a smile. “May I sit with you?”

  “Were you very sad about losing it? Did it hurt much?” Helene inquired with macabre if youthful innocence as she moved to make room for the squire.

  “At the time I was not in a state aware of much of anything,” Geoffrey noted wryly. “But I do seem to recall it hurt like hell’s damnation, if you ladies will excuse the language. As to your other question, I have become accustomed to doing without it.”

  “But aren’t there times you would give anything to have it back?”

  Geoffrey smiled at her childish ignorance and artlessness. “Only when I long to dance with a young lady as lovely as you,” he answered lightly.

  Helene blushed deeply, his conquest complete. “I for one, don’t care if you have only one arm,” she stated adamantly.

  “Thank you,” he nodded and both laughed.

  “Why is it you cannot dance?” Audacia inquired, a quizzical look upon her features.

  “There are many things you have shown me which can still be done by such as I, Miss Aderly. But, dancing?” he shook his head. “Think. Which hand does the gentleman offer to his lady for the minuet?”

  Closing her eyes and wrinkling her nose as she concentrated, Audacia drew a curtsy as one would at the beginning of the dance and then raised her right hand. Assuming the gentleman’s stance she bowed and raised her left hand. Wordlessly her eyes went to the sleeve pinned upon Geoffrey’s left shoulder.

  “You see,” he noted softly.

  “Now wait,” Audacia insisted, not admitting defeat. “There has to be a way.”

  “We had better flee,” the squire told Helene with a wink. “For when Miss Aderly begins to ruminate no one is safe.”

  Helene giggled as she looked from one to the other.

  “I am perfectly serious,” Audacia told them as she walked to the sofa where they sat and took Geoffrey’s hand. She tugged until he stood.

  “What if we would simply change position
s?”

  “I doubt that I would be handsome in a ball gown,” Geoffrey quipped, looking past Audacia’s frown at Helene.

  “Be serious, Geoffrey,” she ordered, making a face at his jest. “Let us try it. I will give you my left hand. Yes, that is right.”

  After several minutes Geoffrey halted. “It will never work, Audacia. It is too awkward.”

  “The minuet is not the only dance,” she persisted. “This would be manageable for the country sets. But for the waltz . . .”

  “Waltz. Are you mad? I could not begin to do that.”

  Audacia’s eyes narrowed with the challenge. “I thought we had banished words such as ‘not’ and ‘never’ some time ago,” she commented half angrily.

  “But how?”

  “There is a way, I know it. Let’s see. You are to put your right arm about my waist—thus,” Audacia said taking hold of his hand and placing it on her waist.

  “And what shall you do with your right hand?” Geoffrey scoffed.

  “Why would it not work to put it on your shoulder . . . like this?

  “One, two, three. One, two, three,” she counted out the steps as they moved through them. “Faster now. Helene, hum for us,” Audacia called out merrily.

  Gradually the awkwardness left their motions as both gained confidence. Soon they were waltzing smoothly about the room.

  “You see,” Audacia told Geoffrey proudly, “I knew it could be done.”

  The squire’s arm tightened as he pulled Audacia off her feet and whirled her in a circle. “You are a treasure beyond words,” he thanked her as they halted and he released her.

  “We shall show everyone, tomorrow, at Almack’s,” she returned excitedly.

  “But, Audee,” Helene interrupted, “won’t Mother be terribly upset if you allow . . . I mean, are so. . . close to Squire Webster?”

  “Under most circumstances I think you would be quite correct. But you see,” Audacia posed dramatically, “the ‘unfortunate’ squire has to be given special consideration . . . even pardoned for social improprieties.”

  “You imp,” Geoffrey said with a laugh and shook his head. “You are incorrigible.”