It was a long moment before he gave a reply. “In the ways of love, I do not consider Stuart as much a threat as an inconvenience.”
“An inconvenience?” she queried.
“I shall have to deal with him in time, and that will be the difficult part. I cannot dismiss the man without rousing your hatred again. ’Tis a most perplexing problem.”
“You amaze me, Christopher.” Erienne shook her head, somewhat shocked by his casual disregard of her husband. “You truly amaze me.”
“The feeling is mutual, my love.” His voice came as a soft caress and sent an eddy of sensations spiraling down through the core of her being.
Lord Talbot frowned in sharp displeasure as he watched the two and grew annoyed when he heard the whispers that praised the good looks and talent of the couple. Catching the sheriff’s eye, Nigel Talbot jerked his head sharply toward the direction of his study and returned there to await the man.
Claudia had also observed the blissful flight of the handsome pair about the ballroom floor, and her hatred of Erienne seethed to even greater heights. She caught sight of Allan Parker and hurried to claim him for the dance, wanting to show that milkweed daughter of the mayor a thing or two about waltzing.
“I’m sorry, Claudia.” Allan gave his excuses. “Your father wants to see me.”
Fire shot through the dark eyes, and she flounced from the room ahead of the sheriff, muttering beneath her breath and not caring how many stares she attracted because of her angry exit. This was her ball! And she would be damned before she would let Erienne Saxton ruin it!
She threw open the door of her father’s study, and as she marched in, Talbot gave an impatient snort. His daughter would be difficult to deal with, as usual.
“Papa, you have no right to summon Allan just when he was going to dance with me!” she complained.
“There’s a matter of business I wished to discuss with him,” he explained.
In a huff, Claudia dropped in the nearest chair and flung up her hand. “Well, hurry up! I’m not going to wait all evening.”
Talbot curbed his irritation and spoke coaxingly, “Claudia, dearest child, would you please go to my chambers and get my gold-headed cane for me? My old wound is acting up.”
“Send one of the servants, Papa. I’m tired.”
“Be a good girl, my dear, and do as I asked.” His smile was forced.
She heaved an exasperated sigh and flounced from the room, slamming the door behind her.
The echo of its closing had barely died when Nigel Talbot caught up the letter from the table and slapped it irately with the back of his hand. “That damned Saxton! He summons me to Saxton Hall, as if I were some commoner, to discuss the rents collected while the family was not in residence.”
Allan half sat on the corner of the massive desk and propped a foot on a seat of a silk brocade chair as he plucked a sweet from a nearby tray. Considering the bonbon, he commented without concern, “That should add up to a pretty penny.”
“ ’Tis more than a few coppers!” Talbot tossed the letter on the table and began to pace angrily. “Why, I’ve been collecting the rents for almost a score of years.”
The sheriff chewed for a moment. “Am I to understand that you consider this Lord Saxton a threat?”
Talbot glared about the room. “I wish he would have come himself instead of sending that impertinent Yankee in his place. We would have seen, then, if he’s the one.”
“The rumors have it that he can’t even sit a horse,” Allan interjected.
“I’ve heard them, too, but where else can we look? The only other stranger in the area is Christopher Seton, and he’s just too convenient.”
Allan lifted his shoulders briefly. “So far, that one is just who he claims to be. He owns some ships, and one, the Cristina, has been in and out of Wirkinton several times these past few months. It always seems to have a bit of new cargo to trade or sell.”
“Just the same, we should be kept aware of the man.” Talbot smirked. “Who knows? Perhaps he’ll get tangled up with the night rider, and we’ll find him in a bloody heap somewhere.”
A smile turned the sheriff’s lips. “If that should happen, do you suppose Lord Saxton would allow either of us to escort his lady?”
His lordship gave a short, sneering laugh. “The man must be naïve to trust Seton. It makes me wonder if he has his wits about him.”
The sheriff nodded as he selected another candy. “He set Sears and his bunch to rout easily enough.”
“That peabrained lout!” Talbot waved a hand angrily. “Who knows what harm he might have done?”
Allan dusted his hands and stood to his feet. “Have you heard anything from your man in the London Court?”
Lord Talbot paced fretfully again. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Just the usual.”
The sheriff pursed his lips but was prevented further comment as Claudia threw open the doors. She crossed the room in haste and handed her father a heavy silver-headed walking stick.
“This was the only one I could find. Are you sure you didn’t…” She paused as she took note of the cane leaning beside the fireplace. “Why, there’s the gold one. You had it all the time.” She giggled as she hugged her father’s arm. “You’ve been so forgetful lately, Papa. I do believe you’re getting old.”
She gave an airy laugh and turned away, missing the angry glare her sire bent upon her.
“Come, Allan.” She coyly minced her way to the door. “I insist you forget about business and come dance with me. After all, it’s my ball!”
Lord Talbot ignored both canes and followed the pair out of the room, tugging at the loose skin beneath his chin.
The festivities continued in grand style, and though the night aged for some, for Erienne it might have been nurtured by a perpetual fountain of youth. The quick music, the fast dances, the thrill and excitement of being swept along on a handsome man’s arm and being almost openly courted filled her with a fresh gaiety she had never experienced before. She felt totally alive, and even Claudia’s icy glowers could not penetrate the aura of bliss that surrounded her. Other men eagerly presented themselves for her attention, and the glow dimmed somewhat as she was taken from Christopher’s side.
Lord Talbot came to claim his tithe of the dances and swung her away in a swirling waltz. Claudia felt no concern leaving the sheriff’s side and went immediately to Christopher, coyly demanding a dance as payment for the invitation. As if by prearrangement, the musicians coursed through a lengthy medley of tunes, and Claudia warmed to the heady feel of his arms about her. She pressed her lightly clad bosom to him whenever the dance allowed and moved so close that her hips caressed his loins. If his eyes lowered to her, a pouting smile was ready beneath hooded eyes, as if she understood and only awaited his proposal.
Lord Talbot, for his part, began as a gentleman, concentrating on matching the bold, sweeping motions of the Yankee, but the light grace of the lady warmed him, and Erienne was forced ever to be wary in order to protect her modesty.
When the last notes of the music were struck, Christopher drew away from his partner, convinced that he had just suffered the most wanton assaults on his person he had ever experienced in public. He had, of course, a higher goal in mind and was not inclined to be dragged off to the lady’s bedchamber, though she firmly looped an arm through his. Catching the eye of Allan Parker, he approached the man with a greeting and a moment later effectively disengaged himself, murmuring his excuse. Claudia’s mouth came open to vent her objection, but he was already moving away and purposefully striding toward his destination.
Erienne had avoided the final pat of Lord Talbot and left the flushed and overexcited elder stewing in frustration. She was most happy to welcome the return of her appointed escort and to entrust her virtue to their truce. They met in the maze of guests, and from then on Christopher kept the larger part of the dance floor between them and their host while Talbot stood at the sidelines and, like an anxious stork, craned his neck f
or a sight of the one who eluded him.
“You’re being obvious,” Erienne cautioned her partner.
“So is he,” Christopher replied, “and if he persists, he’ll be lucky if I don’t lengthen his stride by a boot in the rear.”
“Why are you so determined to harass Lord Talbot?”
“You know my reasons for disliking the man.”
“Me?” she asked incredulously.
“What little time I have with you, I am loath to share with him.”
“Why, Christopher,” the blue-violet eyes flashed with puckish humor, and the barest hint of a smile curved her lips to mock him. “Methinks thou dost protest the man overmuch.”
He went mechanically through the steps of the dance while his mind plunged to a depth beyond her insight. When his attention returned to her, he nodded and agreed. “Aye, the man! Him, I do protest. I protest his arrogance, his careless flaunting of his power. I protest the wealth he wallows in while his tenants grub for a meager subsistence. Aye, I protest the man, and I decry the possibility that anything entrusted to my care should fall to him.”
The dark frown that accompanied his outburst surprised Erienne. She leaned back against his arm to see his face clearly. She had never guessed that the frivolous and capricious Christopher Seton had such a deeply serious vein in his otherwise lighthearted character.
The black side of his mood was as fleeting as the leap of a trout in a stream, a surprise in that no warning of its presence had preceded it, then it was gone, with not even the fading ripples to evidence its passing. Again he was the smiling rake, poised, sure, sweeping her across the room in a swirling rhythm that dazzled her and made other couples seem ploddishly clumsy. He swung her past Lord Talbot, but before that worthy could as much as raise a hand to stop them, they were lost in the crowd again. Near the far doorway Christopher paused and, taking Erienne’s arm, led her through it.
“Some refreshment, my lady?” He met her questioning gaze and grinned. “Lord Talbot was near a state of apoplexy. He’ll no doubt halt the music and seek you out.”
They neared the lavishly covered tables, and he took up a small china plate.
“A tidbit? Some other morsel, perhaps?” He did not wait for an answer but laid several samples on the dish. When he had filled it, he pressed it into her hand.
“Really, Christopher, I’m not hungry,” Erienne insisted.
“Then just hold the plate, my love,” he whispered. “I will fetch you a glass also, and if Nigel appears you will have a case to present.”
In the ballroom the music stopped as Christopher had predicted, and a murmur rose from the bemused dancers as Talbot pushed his way through them in his search for Erienne and her escort. The murmur grew louder as the host persisted in making several circuits of the room until he espied his goal in the adjoining chamber.
He charged hence, leaving his guests to their own ends, and it was Claudia who waved the musicians into motion once more. Talbot fought to control his irritation as he approached his quarry. Erienne quaked inside but took her cue from Christopher, who returned to press a glass of champagne into her hand. She sipped the sparkling, amber liquid, borrowing her bravado from his presence.
“There you are, my dear child,” Talbot simpered, though his moustache quivered with suppressed ire. He struck a lordly pose as he paused before them. “I have been searching everywhere for you. You will, of course, be merciful and grant me another dance.”
Erienne laughed as she showed him her plate. “Your table is so splendidly provided, I fear ’twill take me a full hour to finish what I have here. Besides, I am feeling a bit faint from the dancing.”
“In that case, my dear…” He took the plate from her and set it aside, then interposed himself between the couple, taking Erienne by the arm. A note of victory crept into his voice as he continued. “I deem it necessary, in view of your plight, that you should retire with me to my parlor to rest.”
“Your parlor?” Christopher questioned with a bland smile.
Talbot cast a haughty glare of supremacy to challenge that one’s interference. He cocked a silk-stockinged leg in a kingly posture and reached a hand to brace himself on the table. It came down in the middle of Erienne’s discarded plate. Feeling the ooze of caviar between his fingers, he jerked the member away. The plate flipped neatly upward and scattered its remnants on the length of his sleeve, then came down with a crash to the floor, speckling his white shoes with the black roe and splinters of china.
He twisted about, and the stiffened tails of his satin coat swept the table, tipping a carafe of fruity wine. He gasped as the snow-cooled brew soaked through his breeches and stood rigid until the chill passed. His breeches and stockings took on a bluish-violet hue as the wine trickled down his legs. Caviar mottled his right sleeve with a widening pattern, and a deep red canape perched like a trained snail atop his shoulder.
A twitter of laughter began nearby but retreated like a receding ripple as he cast a stony glare about him. Erienne sipped from her glass, then coughed delicately into a kerchief. Christopher’s smile had not changed, while others seized the moment to admire the painted ceiling, the walls, or the baroque woodwork of the room.
Lord Talbot’s fists were clenched at his sides as he took himself with squishing gait from the further consideration of gawking fools. In a few moments, whispers ran rampant as to how the lord of the manor had stormed up the stairway to his apartments, cursing the ball, his daughter, the cook, the servants, his manservant, who skittered anxiously in his wake, and above all, that damned Yankee!
* * *
The grand clock in the hall had chimed the twelfth hour, and the number of guests had diminished to barely a fourth. Claudia had found no chance to press her suit with Christopher but still seemed confident as she joined her father to bid farewell to a pair of their departing guests.
“I do hope you enjoyed yourselves.” She smiled and nodded as the couple answered, then turned a brief sneer to their backs as they moved on. “Margaret is really getting plump, don’t you agree, Papa? We’ll have to enlarge the doors if she doesn’t stop eating.”
Talbot sighed as a memory assailed him. He could remember a time when the lady had been most tender to the touch and plump in all the right places. “She was such a pretty little thing when she was younger. As eager to please as anyone I’ve ever seen.”
“That had to be at least a score of years ago, Papa. Neither one of you are spring birds anymore.”
Talbot’s dream burst like a bubble. Had it been that long ago?
He cleared his throat and paid her back full measure for her bold reminder. “I’m sure you’re disappointed with the evening, my dear. That pretty little Erienne stole both it and the Yankee from beneath your nose.”
Claudia tossed her head flippantly. “Huh, Christopher was only being nice because he felt responsible for her. Once she’s abed, she’ll be out of our hair, and I’ll have plenty of time to assure him that I’m not angry.”
“If your intention is that they spend the night, my dear, then you’d best hurry.” He inclined his head toward the entry hall. “They said their farewells a few moments ago.”
Claudia gasped as she followed his gaze and saw Christopher receiving their cloaks from the butler. She wasted no time reaching the foyer and making her protest known. “You’re not leaving, are you? Why, I simply cannot hear of it. We’ve had rooms prepared for the both of you.” She leaned toward Christopher, smiling suggestively. “Separately, of course.”
Erienne hastened to allay the possibility. “I shall, of course, release Mr. Seton to whatever decision he might make. As for myself, I shall return to Saxton Hall.”
“How sweet of you, my dear,” Claudia almost cooed, but her hopes were quickly dashed as Christopher withdrew his arm.
“I am not released from my bond,” he replied. “I gave my word that I would see the lady home. Lord Saxton will expect it.”
“But you can’t!” Claudia grasped at any excu
se in an effort to win his company. “Look! ’Tis snowing outside. A storm is upon us.”
Christopher turned with a questioning smile to Erienne.
“I must!” she stated simply.
He faced the other woman with a shrug. “I must.”
Claudia stared at him and could find no further plea, though her lips parted several times as she searched for one.
“Good night, Claudia,” he said, assisting Erienne with her cloak. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Yes,” Erienne chimed in, deepening Claudia’s confusion. “ ’Twas a most delightful affair. Thank you.”
The woman clamped her mouth tightly shut. With so many others about, she could not trust herself to make a decent farewell. The heat of her angry glare was felt by Erienne as she tucked her hand through her escort’s arm. She smiled pleasantly.
A Rose in Winter Page 38