Suddenly

by Candace Camp

  But she had not, and Simon had finally decided, watching Theodora preen herself and flirt and laugh, that she had come there this evening merely with the hope of making him jealous. Since there was little possibility of that, he had relaxed. Now, seeing her flirt with Reed, he thought that she had met her match. Reed was probably figuring up the cost of her diamond necklace while he leered down her neckline.

  Simon turned and went down the staircase instead of approaching Reed. He had no desire to speak to Theodora, and he did not want her to think that when he laced into Reed for dancing with Charity, he was doing it out of jealousy because he’d seen Theodora flirting with Faraday Reed.

  Simon did not glance back around, and so he did not see Faraday Reed watching him as he disappeared down the elegant staircase. Reed’s face settled for a moment into bitter, resentful lines. Then he turned his eyes to the woman in front of him again, schooling his face into its usual expression of patrician charm. Personally, he found Theodora’s charms too lush for his liking, although, of course, he was sure that he would before long sample those charms much more intimately. He liked the thought of taking one of Simon’s women. He had done it several times before, and it always gave him a piquant satisfaction. Not as much, of course, as he would have when he took Dure’s bride before the man tasted her himself.

  He was sure that it would happen. He had infinite confidence in his own skills with women. Besides, if by some odd chance Miss Emerson did not succumb to him willingly, he had no qualms about using force. But that, alas, must lie in the future. Right now, he wished for a more immediate revenge, to rid himself of the antsy feeling that seeing Simon Westport always left him with.

  After a moment’s thought, it came to him. It would be quite fun, and very useful, too. So, excusing himself to Theodora, he sauntered back into the ballroom and glanced around until finally his eyes alit on the person he sought. He waited for a few minutes, until she moved away from the knot of people with whom she had been conversing, and then he crossed the room, intersecting her path.

  “Lady Ashford!” he said with pleased surprise, as if he had by chance come upon her.

  Simon’s sister stopped and looked at him warily. “Mr. Reed.”

  Venetia started to walk around him, but Reed shifted subtly, so that he was still in her path. “No, please, my lady, do not pass me by so easily.” He paused and added, “Once you would not have.”

  “Once I was a green girl,” Venetia snapped back. “I am not so foolish now.”

  “You wound me. Personally, I remember that time with great fondness. Indeed, I cherish my mementos of it.”

  Venetia went still, her face paling. “Mementos? What do you mean?”

  “Not much, only a few letters…a ring. You remember them, do you not?”

  Red flooded her cheeks now, replacing the paleness. “You kept them?”

  “But of course.” He smiled. “I am a man of sentiment. It warms my heart to look back upon them now and then.”

  Venetia glared, but there was fear lurking in her eyes. “What do you want?”

  “I?” He assumed an air of injured innocence. “What could I want of you? You are, after all, a happily married woman. I do not know your husband, but perhaps I shall have the pleasure of making Lord Ashford’s acquaintance in the future. We have so many things in common, I am sure that we would have much to talk about.”

  “Get out of my way.” Venetia’s voice was low, and shook with fury. “And stay away from me in the future.”

  “But of course, my lady.” He stepped aside, sweeping her an exaggerated bow.

  Venetia stalked past him, not once looking back at him, but her hands were clenched together tightly to hide their trembling. Faraday watched her go, a faint smile playing about his lips.

  Faraday Reed came to call on the Emersons the next day. Caroline Emerson was charmed by the man. It was disappointing, of course, that he was already married, but such issues were no longer all-important, now that she had one daughter successfully engaged. And she found him so skilled in all the social graces, so handsome, so blandly charming, that soon he was always welcome in her drawing room.

  Charity did not tell her mother of Dure’s reaction to the man, which Caroline seemed to have been one of the few people not to witness. Her mother, had she known that Lord Dure disliked the man, would have refused him admittance immediately, for no man, no matter how socially pleasant, was worth offending as wealthy a son-in-law as the Earl of Dure. But Charity did not want her mother to refuse admittance to Faraday Reed.

  It was not that she was particularly interested in Mr. Reed. He was light and amusing, and he was always full of compliments—though sometimes they were so flowery that Charity had to hide a smile. But he could not compare to Simon, who was far more handsome and exciting, and whose very presence sent a sort of electricity through her. Next to him, Faraday Reed seemed distinctly boring. However, Charity was determined to allow Mr. Reed to call on her, because she was still nettled by her fiancé’s peremptory and domineering manner. She was not about to let any man, even Lord Dure, tell her with whom she could associate. Besides, though he had apologized for being a trifle rough with her and for causing a scene at the dance, he had not really taken back his commands or told her that he was sorry for ignoring her wishes and opinions in the matter. She saw no reason to give in to him. It would only set a bad precedent. So she did not avoid Mr. Reed when he came to call on them, and she did not tell her mother about Lord Dure’s edict concerning the man.

  A few days after the Rotterham ball, Mr. Reed invited Charity to go for a ride with him in Hyde Park. Charity’s mother decided that it would be proper, since it was an open-air vehicle—as long as one of her sisters accompanied them. Charity grimaced when Mrs. Emerson assigned Elspeth the task of chaperoning, for she had long ago found that Elspeth usually put a damper on any activity. However, she had not been driving in the park yet, and she had heard several times that it was the fashionable thing to do. Also, she looked forward to getting a breath of fresh air. She had been used to tramping along the lanes and paths back in Siddley-on-the-Marsh, and life in London, where a girl could not go out in the street unless a maid accompanied her, had made her hungry for a bit of exercise and the outdoors. Besides, having Elspeth as a chaperone might blunt Dure’s displeasure if he learned of her outing with Faraday Reed.

  So she put on a smile, despite Elspeth’s presence, and tied one of her prettiest bonnets on her head. Elspeth took quite a bit longer to bundle up against the imagined chill that might creep up on her outside, even though it was May, but at last she was ready, and Mr. Reed escorted the two of them outside and up into his victoria, an open, low-built carriage suitable for driving on a nice spring day. It was also the best sort of vehicle in which to see and be seen as one tooled around the park.

  Faraday Reed was a charming companion, full of compliments and light tidbits of gossip. Charity never took his flowery compliments seriously, but it was fun to flirt a little with him, the way she had flirted with her father’s friends back home. He was not as old as they were, but he was several years older than she, and he was married, and that put him the same category, Charity thought.

  They drove along slowly, nodding and waving now and then to acquaintances. There were delays when the occupants of one vehicle stopped to talk to those in another, but they were in no hurry to get anywhere. The purpose, after all, was in the going.

  As they drove along, two women and a man on horseback came trotting toward them. Charity straightened a little and looked with interest at them when she recognized one of the women as the lady who had been staring at her at Lady Rotterham’s ball. The woman was dressed quite differently from the way she had been that night, for today she wore a smartly tailored riding habit in a military style, and her luxuriant dark hair was covered by a rakishly upturned hat with a plume. She looked, Charity thought with a touch of awe, the very picture of sophistication, and she wished for a moment that she had some of the woma
n’s lush, sensual beauty.

  “Faraday!” the woman exclaimed in surprise, and urged her horse forward to come up beside the carriage. “How nice to see you.”

  Reed swept his hat from his head and bowed to her. “My dear Theodora.”

  She smiled and glanced at Charity and Elspeth, sitting in the carriage with him. Charity smiled back in a friendly way.

  “Oh, excuse me,” Mr. Reed said politely. “Miss Emerson, this is Mrs. Graves. Mrs. Graves, the Misses Emerson.”

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” Mrs. Graves said, leaning down a little from her horse and shaking Charity’s hand. She nodded at Elspeth. “I noticed you, you know, at Lady Rotterham’s party. I said to Faraday, who is that attractive young woman, didn’t I, Faraday? But at that time he didn’t know you.” Dimples deepened in her cheeks, and she cast a roguish glance at Mr. Reed. “But I can see you didn’t waste any time making her acquaintance, did you, my dear?”

  “I’m afraid you know me all to well, Thea.”

  They talked for a little while, saying the sort of small, social things one said at such a time. When another carriage pulled up behind them and waited impatiently, Reed pulled his carriage off to the side of the road, and Mrs. Graves followed, waving at her companions and telling them that she would catch up with them later.

  Mrs. Graves dismounted, and Charity and Faraday got out of the carriage. Elspeth, languidly waving her fan, elected to stay in the victoria.

  “Don’t go too far,” Elspeth called after Charity. “You mustn’t get out of my sight.”

  “Is your sister feeling ill?” Reed asked in a concerned voice. “Perhaps I should take her home.”

  “Oh, no, Elspeth’s always like that,” Charity responded cheerfully. “She’d be sitting at home doing the same thing.”

  “Well, anyone can see that you are full of spirit,” Theodora said, linking her arm with Charity’s and propelling her forward. “I knew I would like you. Tell me, do you ride? Perhaps we could ride together one morning.”

  “No,” Charity answered regretfully. She had sorely missed riding since they had been in London. “I’m afraid I don’t. Our horses are at home.”

  “What? And Dure has not given you the use of one of his animals?” Theodora’s large dark eyes widened expressively. “’Tis well known he has an excellent stable.”

  “No.” Charity wondered if she had committed some social gaffe by admitting this. Was it wrong of Dure not to have set her up on a horse? Did it mean that he did not value her as he should? “I’m sure His Lordship’s horses would all be too high-spirited for me.”

  “Oh, well, then of course he would not. Dure is very particular about his horseflesh.”

  “Do you know Lord Dure?”

  Mrs. Graves smiled faintly. “We have met. But I doubt His Lordship would remember my name.”

  “I cannot imagine any man forgetting a woman as lovely as you,” Charity replied honestly.

  Mrs. Graves looked startled, then chuckled and gave Charity’s arm a squeeze. “What a dear child you are! Something tells me that you and I shall be good friends. Perhaps you would like to come to one of my little parties. They’re nothing grand, of course, but I hope I am not being overly immodest when I say that everyone enjoys themselves.”

  “Your parties are delightful,” Reed assured her.

  “We’re not stuffy,” Mrs. Graves told her, her dark eyes glowing with good humor. “Just young people, you know, games, and sometimes a little impromptu dancing.” She leaned closer confidentially and said, “No line of gray chaperones to look down their noses at one.”

  “It sounds delightful,” Charity agreed honestly. She found the rules and conventions of society dreadfully constricting, and she often felt as if all the older ladies who sat and watched the dancing were like vultures, waiting to pounce on some social faux pas or the other. “However, I doubt that Mama would go to a party where there are just young people.”

  Theodora gazed at her blankly. “But, no, I meant you, not your mama.”

  Charity looked back at her just as blankly. “But how could I go without Mama and Serena and Elspeth?” She was new to London, but even she knew that a young unmarried girl never attended parties alone.

  “But you are engaged now—why, almost a married woman.”

  “Oh.” Charity’s sunny smile crossed her face. “You mean that I shall be able to come when I am married to Dure. Of course. That sounds delightful.”

  Theodora’s smile looked strained, but she said only, “Why, before that, I should hope. An engaged woman, if she has the proper escort, may go about more as she pleases.”

  “Do you honestly think so?” Charity asked, feeling rather doubtful on the point herself. “Well, I guess if Lord Dure took me, it would be all right.”

  “Yes, although we are probably not fine enough for His Lordship. But Faraday, of course, could escort you.”

  “My pleasure,” Reed agreed.

  Charity smiled politely and made a noncommittal reply, thinking to herself that the last thing that would make the party acceptable to the Earl of Dure was for Faraday Reed to act as her escort.

  “There, I’ve overstepped myself,” Theodora said quickly, looking crestfallen. She released Charity’s arm. “I’m sorry, I was pressing you, and I should not have. They are only simple little parties, and I’m sure not what you are used to. No doubt you would consider us poor creatures, to find amusement in them.”

  “Oh, no,” Charity hastened to assure her, horrified that she had hurt the other woman’s feelings by her reluctance. “Indeed, I would like to come. I am sure that I would enjoy myself very much.”

  “It is just that you seem like such a sweet young woman, and I would like to be your friend. I am sorry if I have been importunate.”

  “No. Truly, I would be happy to be your friend. It is only that my mama is quite strict, you see. And my fiancé would not—” She paused, searching to find some way to state the earl’s objections without offending Faraday Reed.

  “Dure?” Theodora’s brows shot up, and she smiled faintly. “Do not tell me Dure has become such a puritan. Why, everyone knows—” She stopped abruptly, then went on, “Well, never mind.”

  “Knows what?” Charity asked mildly, preparing herself for another warning about Dure’s reputation. She had endured at least ten such from family and friends so far.

  “What? Oh, nothing. But I always say, what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. Don’t you think so? I find it sad that a man may go to parties wherever and whenever he likes, but a woman may only go where a man considers ‘suitable.’”

  Charity wondered if Theodora was speaking specifically about Lord Dure or about men in general. Was Dure going out to other parties when he was not with her? And what sort of parties were they? However, she couldn’t bring herself to ask Theodora; it would be too embarrassing to admit that she did not know what her fiancé did.

  Theodora smiled brightly and said, “Ah, well…I must try to catch my friends. I’m afraid I’ve spent too long here talking. It is just that you are so charming to talk to.”

  “Thank you. I enjoyed it, too. I hope we see each other again.”

  “But of course we will. You must promise that you will come to one of my parties.”

  She looked so entreating that Charity could not bear to tell her that she would not. “I would be happy to—if Mama allows it.”

  “Sometimes mamas are too strict,” Theodora said in an indulgent voice. “My own mama was much the same. Perhaps it would be best simply not to tell her.”

  “You mean sneak out of the house?” Charity goggled at her, wondering if somehow Theodora could possibly know that Charity had done that very thing when she went to Dure’s house to suggest their marriage scheme. But, no, there was no way she could, Charity reminded herself.

  “Oh, dear,” Theodora went on, touching Charity’s arm, “now I have shocked you. I am sorry. I forgot how young you are. You are doubtless still quite terrifi
ed of disobeying your mama.”

  “It isn’t that,” Charity retorted, stung a little by Theodora’s words. “It’s just that—”

  She stopped, unable to explain that she was willing to disobey her mother and even flout the conventions of society, but only for something terribly important, as she had done in going to see Simon that day. Something as frivolous as a party was different; she could not risk embarrassing her family or Simon over nothing more than that.

  “I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I just can’t.”

  “Of course. I understand.” Theodora flashed her a brilliant smile, although it seemed to Charity that sadness and hurt lurked in her eyes. “Good day, Miss Emerson. Mr. Reed.” She turned and walked slowly back to her horse.

  Charity felt guilty as she watched her. She could see that Theodora’s hands were curled into fists, and Charity suspected that she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. Charity was tempted to run after Theodora and tell her that she would come to her party after all.

  “I hurt her,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  “Don’t worry. Theodora is accustomed to the small snubs of society.”

  “What?” Charity’s eyes widened with horror. “Oh, no, did you think I was snubbing her? I wasn’t, truly. It is only that Mama is so strict, and I couldn’t do anything to embarrass her or Papa. Truly, I know they would not like it if I went to a party without a chaperone.”