Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02]

by Second Chances

  Casting a baleful glance at his sister, the earl picked up the cup and drained the contents.

  Lady Alston struggled to maintain a straight face. "I'm afraid it is, Mrs. Proctor, though I must admit the females of our family are equally cursed—just ask Leo." Before Allegra could make any response she went on. "Come, now that you are here, I insist that you take a glass of sherry with us."

  "Oh, I couldn't—"

  "Nonsense!" Her tone indicated she would brook no argument. "Leo, you will remain seated and rest that leg of yours," she added as the earl made to rise. "I am perfectly capable of pouring our guest a glass of spirits."

  Wrexham sat down as ordered.

  It was Allegra's turn to stifle a grin.

  "Oh dear," said Lady Alston, with a guilty laugh. "I fear that the habit of ordering little Leo around is a hard one to break. I wonder he hasn't taking to boxing my ears now that he is no longer in leading strings."

  "I just might, one of these days," he warned, but he couldn't refrain from smiling as well. "As it is, I find it no surprise that James has undertaken a long trip to St. Petersburg—and that the lads have chosen to go with him. No doubt the prospect of the discipline aboard a naval warship is a welcome respite from home."

  "Wretch," she murmured as she handed Allegra a glass. "You might not believe it, Mrs. Proctor, but he can be quite charming when he chooses." Resuming her seat next to the earl, she motioned Allegra to take the chair facing them. "Actually, I am so glad you have joined us tonight. We have much to talk about if we are to implement our plans as soon as possible." With that, she launched into a detailed plan for introducing Allegra into Society that left even the earl mute with respect.

  "You seem to have thought of everything," admitted Wrexham when she inquired whether she had omitted anything of note.

  "Good. Now, my modiste will be here first thing in the morning and has promised to have several gowns ready in time for making a number of morning calls before attending the Hightower's ball." She fixed Allegra with an appraising look. "I should think that a smoky shade of blue or perhaps a muted emerald would look marvelous with your coloring. Leo, you must give us your opinion. You have always had impeccable taste and I know that even Suzanna sought your—"

  The earl cut her off in mid-sentence. "I'm sure Mrs. Proctor has no interest in what I think."

  Allegra looked overwhelmed. "Lady Alston, I... I don't think it necessary—I mean, surely I don't need..."

  The other lady waved away her protest. "You must trust me to know what you need in order to appear to be what you say you are. Oh, and if we are to present you as our relative, you really must call me Olivia." She paused for a moment. "And you must cease with the 'my lord' and 'sir' and call Wrexham by his Christian name as well."

  Allegra felt the heat rise to her face as she recalled the only time she had ever uttered the earl's name.

  "Oh... I couldn't. It really wouldn't be proper."

  "I must insist. It would appear odd if you don't."

  "In that case, I... very well," she replied in a near whisper. She put aside her untouched glass of sherry and rose. "If you don't mind, I really do think I shall retire. It has been a long day and it appear we have much to do on the morrow."

  "Good night then, Allegra," said Lady Alston.

  "Good night... to you both."

  When the door closed, there was a rather long silence as Lady Alston regarded her brother from under her lashes.

  Wrexham shifted uncomfortably. "What?" he finally demanded.

  "Oh, nothing." After a slight pause, she added, "Tell me about Mrs. Proctor."

  "There is little to tell," he muttered. "Edmund has recounted the entire story to you."

  "I mean as a person."

  The earl looked taken by surprise. His brows came together as he thought for a moment. "Ahem. Well, she possesses a keen intelligence as well as uncommon good sense—that is, most of the time. She has more spirit than most... and she is caring and compassionate. Why, when Max was injured, she exhibited more concern than Suz—" His jaw clamped shut. Reaching for his brandy, he took a long swallow before continuing. "It is a pity her brief marriage did not afford her a child. She would be an excellent mother." Then he shrugged. "There is nothing more to tell."

  Lady Ashton refrained from any comment.

  Wrexham drained his glass then got stiffly to his feet. "I, too, have had a long day, Olivia, so I think I shall bid you good night." He bent down and pressed a light kiss on her cheek. "Despite your penchant for meddling, I am deucedly glad to see you."

  She squeezed his hand. "Good night, Leo, my dear. And try not to worry overly—I have a feeling that everything is going to work out for the best."

  Chapter 11

  Allegra shut the book with a sigh, then let her eyes fall closed as well, savoring a rare moment of solitude in the deserted morning room. The last few days had passed in a blur, with more fittings than she had imagined possible, excursions with Lady Alston to show Max the Tower and Astley's, on top of hours spent going over the nuances of behavior within Polite Society. And then there had been the first few morning calls to a select group of Lady Alston's friends. Since each one chosen could not resist a tempting piece of gossip, news of the arrival of the recently widowed—and extremely wealthy—cousin of the earl should have reached even the most reclusive member of the ton.

  It appeared that she had contrived to get through the ordeal without making any egregious mistake. Why, she had even managed to chatter quite lengthily about absolutely nothing, a feat she would have normally considered quite beyond the powers of her patience. Indeed, Lady Alston had been well satisfied that all was going according to plan.

  Another sigh escaped her lips. It was the thought of tonight that had caused the book to slip from her fingers. The prospect of facing a ballroom filled with bejeweled ladies and titled gentlemen—among them Lord Sandhill—was a daunting one. She found herself wondering whether Wrexham would put in an appearance. A familiar face, even a disapproving one, would be of some reassurance. But aside from a few brief glimpses at the breakfast table, she had hardly set eyes on him since their arrival in Town. He seemed to be going to great lengths to avoid being in her presence.

  Her mouth quirked in a rueful grimace. Could there be any doubt why?

  She found herself wishing yet again that she had not sunk herself so irredeemably in the earl's eyes, that she could retrieve the comfortable friendship that had grown between them. She missed their spirited discussions, even though their opinions rarely matched. She missed sitting curled in one of the oversized armchairs with a book while he worked at his desk...

  "Allegra?" Lady Alston poked her head into the room and surveyed the growing shadows near the french doors. "Good heavens, my dear! It is way past time to begin preparing for the evening's festivities. Come along, Clotilde is waiting."

  Allegra laid aside the small leatherbound volume with some reluctance and followed the other lady upstairs, feeling not a little unlike a lamb being led before a pack of wolves.

  Some time later, Lady Alston's formidable French maid stepped away from Allegra with a sniff of satisfaction.

  "Pas mal," she announced under her breath as she surveyed the results of her labors.

  "Clothilde, you are a true artiste," murmured Lady Alston, causing her maid's ample chest to swell out to even larger proportions.

  Allegra stared into the gilt mirror, hardly believing what she saw. Her hair was twisted into a simple arrangement atop her head, but with an artful snip here and there, the abigail had created a tumble of soft curls to frame her face. The effect was amazing—she hardly recognized herself! The fact that the new gown revealed quite alot more of herself than she was used to only heightened the feeling that she was looking at a stranger.

  "Oh," she managed to whisper.

  "You look absolutely stunning," said Lady Alston with a smile. "The color is perfect on you, just as I imagined it would be."

  There was a knock
on the half opened door, then Wrexham stepped into his sister's room. "Olivia, have you seen where the deuce they have put my—" He fell silent as he caught sight of Allegra.

  "Doesn't Allegra look lovely?" said Lady Alston.

  The earl remained speechless.

  "Be prepared, my dear, to find yourself attracting any number of offers," went on Lady Alston.

  Allegra colored to her roots. "You are being absurd, Lady Alston. A female of my advanced years, not to speak of—"

  "Olivia," corrected the earl's sister. A decided twinkle came to her eyes. "And we shall see just who is being absurd."

  * * *

  Wrexham finally found his voice. "Olivia, you don't mean to tell me you are going to let her appear like... like that in public?"

  One of Lady Alston's brows shot up. "Whatever do you mean, Leo? She looks a veritable picture."

  He couldn't tear his eyes away from Allegra's bare neck, exposed shoulders and creamy expanse of bosom. "Why, it's... hardly decent," he managed to growl.

  "My dear brother, you have fallen sadly behind the times, hidden away up in the wilds of the north. This style is all the crack, I assure you, and certainly well within the bounds of propriety for even the highest stickler." She gestured to the front of her own gown. "As you can see," she added.

  Wrexham hadn't noticed his sister's gown.

  Allegra's color had only deepened. "Perhaps his lordship is right," she said in a near whisper. "It does seem rather—"

  "Nonsense!" scoffed Lady Alston. "Put that absurd notion right out of your head. It is important that you appear as fashionable as all the other ladies." She turned back to her brother and fixed him with a glare. "And Leo, do stop being such a stick in the mud. Can't you see Allegra is nervous enough without you carrying on like some old curmudgeon."

  The earl began to make some sort of retort, but the look on his sister's face caused the sound to die in his throat.

  Another attempt at protest by Allegra was just as ruthlessly squelched with a quelling glance. "The matter is settled," she announced as she continued to give Allegra's coiffure and dress one last appraisal. "Now, I shall fetch the figured India silk shawl from your room. It will bring out that unusual deep green of your eyes." As she made to leave the room, she took up a slim leather case from her dressing table and thrust it into the earl's hands. "And of course we must begin to bait the trap for Lord Sandhill. Leo, kindly help Allegra with this."

  A scowl darkened Wrexham's features at his sister's blunt choice of words, but he took the box without argument. He opened it to reveal a finely worked necklace of matched emeralds, all nearly the size of a robin's egg.

  Allegra gave a low gasp. "My lord, I cannot possibly wear that! Why, it must be worth a king's ransom."

  The earl had already moved to stand behind her. "I'm afraid you have no choice," he murmured as his fingers lifted the heavy creation from the padded satin. "There is precious little anyone can do once Olivia has taken the bit between her teeth."

  Their eyes met for an instant in the mirror as he brought it around her neck. The simultaneous sensation of the smooth coolness from the jewels and vibrant heat from his touch sent a slight frisson down her spine.

  His eyes fell away as he fumbled with the thick gold clasp. "I did not mean to imply that you... do not look well," he said haltingly. "I—I am simply unused to seeing you thus."

  She essayed a game smile. "I assure you, sir, so am I. Indeed, I would not be at all surprised if everyone tonight sees me for what I am—a complete charlatan."

  Wrexham didn't miss the note of self-doubt in her tone. His hand lingered to brush away a wisp of a curl at the nape of her neck. "You are less of a charlatan than most of the ton," he replied in a near whisper, with a vehemence that took her by surprise. He took a step back from her stool, then spoke again. "Now let's have no more talk like that. Where is the spirit I have come to expect from the female who thinks nothing of scaling manor walls? Surely you are not going to allow yourself to be intimidated by an assortment of nodcocks and widgeons?"

  Allegra gave a little laugh. "Well, if you put it that way—"

  Further answer was forestalled by the arrival of Olivia with the silk shawl. She draped it over Allegra's shoulders, giving a nod of satisfaction at the fortune in jewels around her neck. "That should do nicely," she remarked. "Come along now, both of you. We are in danger of being more than fashionably late."

  * * *

  Allegra took a deep breath, both to steady her nerves and because the large crowd of guests and masses of cut flowers had already made the air feel warm and cloying. She had never seen such a crush. The ballroom was already packed, elegant ladies swathed in silk swirling by with gentlemen dressed in equal splendor. From the perimeter, groups of turbaned matrons sat gossiping, all the while keeping a basilisk eye on their various charges, while a number of gentlemen not given to dancing were sidling towards the card room. Her step faltered as she realized that somehow she had become separated from Lady Alston in the crowd. An elbow jostled her side as she searched in vain for a familiar face, knocking home the enormity of the task she had set herself. It was absurd, she thought grimly, to imagine she could bring this off.

  A hand took her firmly by the elbow. "Try not to look as though you are about to mount the gibbet," counseled Wrexham in a low voice as he smiled and nodded an occasional greeting while guiding Allegra towards the far end of the room. "And try not to wander off by yourself. Olivia has a number of important people she must acquaint you with in order to smooth your entry into Society."

  "Wander off!" she retorted in an equally low voice. "Why, one can hardly draw a breath, much less move of one's own accord."

  His lips twitched. "A hostess considers her evening a sad disappointment if two or three ladies do not faint from lack of air."

  He had her smiling as well. "Are they really so silly?"

  "You must judge for yourself—Ah, there is Olivia. I shall leave you in her capable hands until she has finished her introductions." He reached down for her dance card and scribbled something on it. "Then I am commanded by my sister to lead you out for your first dance."

  She couldn't disguise the surprise in her voice. "I am to dance with you?"

  "I am afraid you must. Olivia assures me that for some reason or another, my presence as a partner will confer some sort of consequence to your debut."

  She found it nice to be bantering with him again. "Ah, so you are rather like the dragons of Almack's—I need the stamp of your approval before any gentleman would dare approach."

  He grinned, the first time he had done so in a long time. "Quite—though I hope my face is not quite so intimidating as that of Mrs. Drummond-Burrell."

  Allegra laughed lightly, though she had not as yet met that august personage. "I will let you know, sir. Tell me, do you have the same power to ruin a female—" She stopped short, a tinge of color spreading over her cheeks.

  The smile disappeared from Wrexham's face. In stony silence he guided her through a group of young bucks who were eyeing several of the young misses on the dance floor to where Lady Alston was anxiously scanning the crowded room.

  "Oh, there you are," she cried in relief. She took Allegra's arm from her brother. "My dear cousin, I must introduce you to Lord and Lady Westerville."

  The earl bowed stiffly. "Until later... cousin."

  Allegra bit her lip but there was precious little she could do except paste on a smile and remember why she was here.

  Somehow she got through what seemed to be an interminable series of introductions without disgracing herself. And though dreading her required set with the earl, that, too, passed tolerably well. On leading her out, he had confided that he was not a good dancer and would try not to trod on her feet. Concern for his bad leg led her to forget all thoughts of her own nervousness and by the time the set was finished, she realized that she was indeed feeling more at ease. She flashed him a grateful smile, but had little chance to speak before she was claimed
for the next dance by a portly gentlemen that Lady Alston had warned, in a whispered aside, might try to pinch her bottom.

  The earl's words proved all too true. One gentleman after another sought an introduction and a spot on her card. Her head was whirling even faster than her feet, trying to keep all the names and faces straight. It was with great relief, therefore, when she found her next partner was Lord Bingham and he suggested that perhaps she would prefer to sit out a set and enjoy a glass of ratafia punch instead.

  His eyes swept over her with frank admiration after he had fetched her a glass and led her over near an arrangement of potted palms where they had a bit of space to themselves. "You are looking very lovely, Mrs... Ransley," he said, remembering to use her mother's maiden name, as had been agreed upon. "And I see you have already made quite an impression on the gentlemen present."

  Allegra dropped her eyes. "You are most kind, sir, but I cannot help feeling that everyone must know I'm not really one of them."

  "Oh, you may feel akin to us sooner than you think," he murmured enigmatically, then quickly went on before she had a chance to wonder what he meant. "You are doing splendidly." His eyes strayed across the dancing couples. "Have you seen Leo?"

  She shook her head. "Not since... our dance together."

  "Hmmm." He kept searching the crowd, then suddenly his shoulders stiffened slightly as his gaze came to rest on a figure not far away. "Tell me," he said softly. "Do you feel ready to bell the cat, as it were, or would you rather wait?"

  Allegra forced her voice to sound more confident than she felt. "Not at all. There is no reason to put it off."

  Bingham gave her arm a squeeze then guided their steps back towards the refreshment table. Along the way, he feigned a stumble and brushed into the back of a thickset figure dressed in a foppish coat of loud puce.

  "Your pardon—oh, is that you, Sandhill? Forgive my clumsiness. I must have been pushed by some young jackanape." He made a slight bow, then, as good manners dictated, he brought Allegra forward. "By the by, have you made the acquaintance of your neighbor's cousin, who has only just arrived in Town?"