Rogue in Red Velvet

by Lynne Connolly

  Not very different, after all. Except that at home she belonged in the inner circle. Here she was most distinctly an outsider. Nobody would trust her to discuss their intimate secrets and she didn’t imagine the covert glances people shot her from time to time.

  Nerves seized her, bile rising in her throat. What if they all ignored her?

  For the first time since Mother Cratchitt’s, she and Jasper Dankworth would share the same space. Alex had met them outside and exchanged a warning look with Julius.

  She sucked in a cooling breath and lifted her chin. Jasper was strolling around the perimeter of the ballroom, a lady leaning on his arm. Miss Louisa Stobart. Would Miss Stobart ignore her? Would they cut her? She tensed, readying herself for the ordeal.

  But they didn’t approach her, they turned and walked in the opposite direction without seemingly seeing her. Bad but not disastrous. A cut but not a direct one.

  Helena ignored them and introduced Connie to more of her friends. Helena was a popular person and people greeted her with genuine warmth.

  Julius had disappeared in the direction of the card room, to, as he quietly informed her, reconnoiter the terrain.

  In the swift appraisal she’d allowed herself, Connie noted Jasper’s new finery, his air of prosperity and she’d wondered who he owed for it. And pitied them, because the chances of getting their money must be slim. Honest tradesmen came bottom of the list when it came to paying debts.

  “Not the cut direct,” Alex murmured. “They can hardly act in a friendly way toward us when he’s trying to have you declared unfit but they will acknowledge you before the evening is out.”

  Connie forgot all her intentions to hide her emotions and turned to him, distressed. “Has he started the process?”

  “Hush, my—Mrs. Rattigan. It’s what he planned, so he’s going ahead with it. My informants tell me he has filed the action, but he has a long way to go before anything is resolved. And my friends and I have ways of delaying the case for long enough. Once society has seen you and spoken to you, his claims will go away.”

  Connie wasn’t so sure about that.

  “Mrs. Rattigan.”

  Turning too suddenly, Connie nearly overbalanced but Helena reached out to steady her, beating Alex by a whisker. He cleared his throat and drew back.

  “Lord Downholland, what a surprise!” Alex said but he didn’t appear surprised. He made an elegant leg, bowing low, his arm sweeping up in an extravagant gesture.

  To her mortification, heat rose under Connie’s skin. At least they had chosen to acknowledge her. She forced a smile and sank into a curtsey. “I thought you fixed in Yorkshire for the next few weeks, sir.”

  “So did I.” Lord Downholland glanced around at the glittering throng and grimaced. “I prefer the country but I heard some disturbing news last weekend.” He fixed Alex with a considering stare and eventually greeted him. “Ripley. I wonder, Connie, would it be possible for you to call on us in the morning?”

  “Of course.”

  Lady Downholland gave her a fond smile. “I had no idea you knew Lady Helena, Connie.”

  She didn’t want to lie to them. “Lady Helena kindly invited me to stay with her.”

  Helena stepped in to the breach. “Lady Downholland, Constance has kindly agreed to keep me company while my Aunt Amelia is out of town. I’d be heartbroken to lose her so soon. I would love her to stay.” Her mouth turned down at each corner. “Otherwise, without a respectable companion, I must return to my parents’ house.”

  “Oh.” Lady Downholland looked from Connie to Helena and back. Her plump face creased with concern, a frown marking her forehead. Lady Downholland must be aware that staying with the Vernons gave Connie more opportunities to enter the inner sanctum of society’s hallowed portals. While the Downhollands were perfectly acceptable to society, they didn’t visit London very often and they had never penetrated the inner circles. “It’s extremely generous of you, Lady Helena.”

  “Indeed not. If I may, I’ll accompany her when she visits you tomorrow.”

  “I’d be honored.” Lady Downholland curtseyed and Helena responded. Both used the exact depth required of each other’s rank and Connie felt overwhelmingly glad that her godmother had taught her the niceties of behavior. Her father had preferred to remain in the country. John had left her in the background, running his house. Especially after she’d disappointed him.

  After chat about more general matters, they separated and walked on. “Do we come clean and tell them the whole?” Connie murmured to Alex.

  In the background, a quartet tuned up, ready to begin the dancing for the evening, giving them a better opportunity to exchange confidences, although she knew better than to discuss the matter unadorned.

  “I think so,” Alex said. “They are your allies. We have to trust them. But we can’t tell them everything.”

  She knew which part he meant.

  So far, Alex would count the ball a relative success but only relative. He wanted more for Connie. People met her, smiled and moved on. He wanted her position in society inviolate and if she refused his proposal until that time, then he’d expedite proceedings. He needed a scheme. Something showy and flashy but not vulgar. While nobody exactly cut Connie, a few avoided her. She wasn’t yet clear of scandal.

  After touching her exquisite skin, kissing her ripe mouth, he wanted her badly. He ached for her when he allowed himself to slow down enough to think. Which didn’t happen often.

  He had a thought. Julius had returned from the card room and the small orchestra was taking a break from playing dance music. “Want to liven this affair up a little?” Alex asked.

  Julius raised a querying brow.

  “You wouldn’t think of disrupting this assembly would you, Alex?” Helena’s voice held hidden laughter but also a challenge.

  “Not for a minute. I don’t dare, with the duchess standing there watching us.”

  “Glaring at us.” Julius didn’t sound in the least discomposed but he had grown out of fearing his mother a long time ago. “So what’s your proposition, Alex?”

  “Connie, would you be game?”

  “That depends what you want,” she said cautiously.

  Julius chuckled. “You’re learning. We cannot trust Alex when he has that gleam in his eye.”

  Alex turned a serious glare onto his cousin. “Connie, if you go and stand at the bottom of the room, by the dance floor but in front of the doors, then flick out your fan when one of us reaches you, that’s all you have to do for your part. Helena will perform the role of arbiter.”

  Julius laughed. “Hardly neutral.”

  Helena flicked open her fan in an elegant gesture. “You think I’ll cheat?” She lifted her chin. “I am not so paltry.”

  A gentleman passing by drew closer. “Did I hear you say a wager? That would enliven this tedious affair.”

  “The dowagers must not know,” Alex warned. “Rotherham, you may spread the word but you must behave with discretion. Tell them that Lady Helena will take the bets or the notes of hand and distribute the winnings after the event. The bet is fifty-fifty, Julius against me, so all Helena has to do is keep the reckoning.”

  “I can do that,” Helena said.

  Alex made the bet. “Julius, I wager you that I can reach Mrs. Rattigan before you. We start here, at this end of the ballroom and make our way around the dancing area. It sounds simple but look at all the people here and think of how many you must converse with to get there. No ill manners, no deliberately informing participants.”

  Julius gave a low whistle. For the duration of the game, Connie would be the cynosure of all eyes, at least the ones taking part in the bet.

  “When Helena opens her fan, we will begin. When Connie flicks hers open, the game is done,” Julius said. “And make my wager a hundred pounds, not fifty.”

  “Done.”

  Alex had roused the family for the ball and most of them were present tonight. He went and roused Devereux from the card r
oom and once he heard the purpose, he declared himself only too willing to take part in the game. After wagering a hundred on Alex, he offered Connie the support of his arm and chatted with her for the duration of the event.

  The two participants stood by Helena and she flicked open her fan. They were off.

  A minute later, he thought he was done for. The formidable Duchess of Northwood stood squarely in front of him, preventing him from passing by. For such a small woman, she blocked his way pretty much completely.

  He forced an affable smile. “Good evening, your grace.” He executed a full bow and bent over her hand. She wouldn’t accept anything else. Time wasted.

  “Good evening, Ripley. My daughter Georgiana wishes particularly to speak with you. We will be at home tomorrow at two.”

  Oh dear. That meant the duchess wanted him on the playing field as a suitor for Georgiana. Although he could think of a fate worse than allying himself to the pretty, laughing Georgiana, that described the problem in a nutshell—she was a girl. He’d never think of her any other way.

  “Thank you for thinking of me.”

  “I am holding a small poetry salon. I believe Cowdrey will attend.”

  His heart sank even further. What Cowdrey called epic poetry, Alex called tedious rubbish. An hour should suffice to mollify the duchess. More than that and he might run mad. Perhaps he’d share the ordeal with Connie. A small gathering would further her acceptance by the ton.

  At last, her grace withdrew her hand and as she opened her mouth to speak once more, Alex pretended not to notice, bowed and moved on.

  Julius had gained a length on him. He’d banked on Julius’s finesse proving his handicap; his social expertise and the fact that people avidly sought his attention, especially women. However, Alex had omitted to factor in his own recent activity in the feminine stables. He’d made himself available and they’d descended like wolves on the fold. Pretty, scented wolves but the instincts remained buried underneath. They didn’t fool him.

  The first few smiled and fluttered their fans and eyelashes. One flicked her wide skirt out so he nearly fell over her hem. Oh that was all he needed. Obviously, word had gone out about his unfortunate escapade with Miss Stobart and torn flounces had become the order of the day. So tricky to dodge them if a woman flung a few acres of silk in his way. But he managed it, hopping and dodging like a dancer.

  A flash of green fabric across the room revealed where Julius bowed and nodded his way down the line. Was he gaining on his cousin? Alex made up the length, although Julius might still have a head on him. Maybe a nose.

  “Lord Ripley, how delightful!”

  Oh lord, he’d never have a chance, now, because Miss Stobart blocked his way, wafting her fan at him and smiling winsomely.

  “I don’t believe you were about to pass me without exchanging a civil word. Of course, after our recent adventures together, we need not stand on ceremony any longer.” She fluttered her eyelashes. Actually fluttered them at him.

  “Just so, ma’am.” No, he couldn’t say that. Couldn’t agree with her, or it she’d spread it all over town in the morning that he had shown her particular attention. Before the night had fallen the book would be shortening on him in White’s. He’d been chagrined to discover just how high the odds were on him marrying the woman, even though her betrothal to Dankworth was public knowledge. But until pen hit paper, she was free to entice whomever she pleased.

  “I have such consideration for your reputation that I fear I can’t linger.”

  Let her make what she wanted of that frankly ridiculous remark. At least it struck her into temporary silence.

  He moved on, having to take a circuit around her. She tried the skirt flick but he had prepared for the maneuver and avoided it. Breathing a sigh of relief, he moved on and assessed the field before him. Since this was the beginning of the season, fashionable society packed the ballroom but he tried moving to the edge of the dance floor.

  This being a converted large salon, there was no delineated floor but by general agreement, the guests had left the center of the room clear for dancing. He wanted to loosen his stock, tied far too tightly around his neck as today’s mild weather, the hundreds of candles and the presence of so many bodies in one space had their cumulative effect and he started to sweat. Reminding himself that the game didn’t matter so much as the result for Connie didn’t do him any good at the moment. He wanted to win.

  He nearly collided with a woman at the end of the room but nodded and danced around her, turning it into an improvised step until he left her behind. And carried on down, further down.

  Damn, Julius had nearly arrived. He’d grabbed someone to help him, a small woman, one he vaguely recognized then he handed her off on someone else who tried to approach him. Tricky. Alex should have been more careful setting the rules.

  Further down and one dowager later, Alex had a clear field.

  One more hurdle and this one could be his downfall. His damned father. Could he, dare he, just walk past? Oh, yes. His father leaned forward, murmured, “I have two hundred on you. Go to it, my boy.”

  If his father understood nothing else, it was a bet. With a brief squeeze of his shoulder, his father stood back, rather sportingly blocking a dowager with two lovely daughters in tow. Actually, not so lovely, he amended.

  “For the honor of the family,” his father murmured and let Alex pass.

  He threaded his way through the throng, smiling here, nodding there, exchanging a word or two and circumventing the gloved hands of rapacious ladies, soft and grasping. Nearly there, at the finishing post.

  And then he had arrived, in the haven of Connie’s lovely smile.

  He looked up, across the dance floor. The dance floor was relatively clear, giving him a view all the way to Helena at the far end. Cicisbeos surrounded her, men who wanted her for herself, as well as her position. Not that either he or Julius had managed to persuade her of that fact, not yet. Years of constant insults and denigration by her mother had their inevitable result and his beautiful cousin didn’t realize her effect on the opposite sex.

  He sensed Connie’s presence next to him; his skin prickled with awareness. He bowed. “Mrs. Rattigan.”

  With a flash of pink and green spangles, she flicked open her fan. The race had ended. Helena had decided to join them and was presently sweeping down the center of the dance floor, admirers in tow.

  Before he could stop him, that idiot George Wyvern had wrung his hand. “Oh very well done! When I saw your father, I knew you’d won the day. Effective fielder swept away your last threats, didn’t he?”

  He might as well admit it, but hopefully, he could limit the damage. “The duchess nearly proved my downfall. How much did you have on me, George?”

  George glanced around. “Only a couple of hundred, although if my darling Caroline asks, it was fifty, you hear?”

  “Did you work up any odds?”

  “No time for anything but evens, dear boy.”

  Alex frowned. “George, if you don’t pipe down, we won’t be able to do it again.”

  George put his finger to his lips. His protuberant blue eyes were a little rheumy, indicating he’d been drinking for some time. “Oh, ah, yes. See what you mean, old man.”

  “Well done, Alex, the best man won tonight,” said a familiar voice, much softer than George.

  Alex grinned at Julius. “The mamas did for you. You had more your side than I did on mine. They want you to attend their rout, Venetian breakfast, literary salon or music recital. Or something a little more private.”

  Julius glanced at Helena, a sharp gleam in his eye that only his closest acquaintances could interpret. “I choose where I go and where I do not. Keeps people wondering.”

  Win or lose, Alex had achieved his aim. Triumph rose, more intoxicating than brandy. They’d done it. Everyone in the room was watching them. From someone on the outskirts of society, he’d just turned Connie into someone of note.

  Julius glanced at the me
n surrounding his sister and effortlessly forged a path to her side. “My dear, you have collected quite a court.”

  “I hold their markers.”

  Julius raised a brow. “I think it is more than filthy lucre that draws them, my dear.”

  Another of his cousins, Marcus Malton, cleared his throat. “I had fifty on you, Julius but I swear Ripley’s father had a stake on, because his actions on the final stretch were masterly.”

  “Two hundred,” said Lord Leverton, who just happened to be passing by. “Lady Helena?”

  She nodded her confirmation. “He signaled me very effectively before the race began.”

  Lord Leverton paused in his perambulations. “Gentleman, if we are ever to repeat this enlivening experience, we must disperse. Lady Helena has your markers. Allow her time to sort out the winners and losers.”

  One of the gentlemen tapped the side of his nose. “White’s tomorrow morning. We should enter this in the books. Make it a full season.”

  Julius nodded and a slow smile crept over his features. “That might be acceptable but I can’t promise to act as your runner every time.”

  “But you’re not averse to taking the role occasionally.”

  Julius shrugged. “Possibly.”

  “Julius, this was a momentary amusement,” Helena protested. “We cannot do this all the time.”

  “And why not? Are we hurting anyone?” When the gentleman had mentioned White’s the crowd had thinned somewhat, melting into the general crowd. “It will delight the matrons. It will bring more young men to their balls, eager to play.”

  She gave him what could only be described as an old-fashioned look. Skepticism overlaid with a reluctant twist of amusement. “I cannot consent to hold notes of mark all the time.”

  “Understood. My dear, I regret dragging you into this affair.” Alex bowed over her hand, giving her an exaggerated flourish of one hand.

  She hit him with her fan and he laughed and caught her wrist.

  Julius winked at Alex and then led his sister onto the dance floor, as the quartet had returned to their places, ready to play once more.

  Alex bowed to Connie. “Now I’ve made you the center of attention, would you care to dance?”