by Jenny Hambly
Lady Langton came a few steps closer. “Would it not be better if you put her in the barouche?”
Eleanor felt one strong arm go around her back and another slither under her knees. The next moment she was lifted into the air. She turned her head so it rested against Lord Allerdale’s broad shoulder and gave a dramatic moan that would not have been at all out of place in a Shakespearian Tragedy. She felt his arms tighten around her and smiled, feeling herself to be quite safe now.
“It is not necessary, ma’am. My mother’s home is only a few steps away. Good day.”
He turned and strode in the opposite direction. He soon crossed the road and they entered Bruton Mews.
“You may take your head out of my shoulder now, Miss Edgcott,” he said calmly, “there is no one to see you.”
She gave a surprised little laugh as she did so, and her veil slipped from her face. “How did you guess?”
“I did not guess,” he said. “Your veil fluttered as you fell, and I caught sight of your chin and lips.”
His enigmatic gaze rested upon them now and Eleanor felt her cheeks grow warm.
“Are they so memorable?” she asked.
“Apparently so,” Lord Allerdale murmured.
“Er, you can put me down now,” she said, her heart beating a little faster. “I am not at all injured.”
His lips twitched into a grin. “I was aware of that, ma’am, from the moment you moaned. It was a nice touch, I will admit, if rather melodramatic.”
He put her down gently as he spoke. She became busy brushing the dust from her cloak.
“Thank you for coming to my assistance, sir,” she said, glancing up at him, an unusually shy smile in her eyes. “I knew all would be well once I realised it was you I had rushed into. And I must say, I am very glad it was you and not the wall.”
He laughed. “If I had behaved more like a wall, you might have been better served. I did move to one side, which is something a wall would never have done, you must agree, but to no avail. You changed direction.”
“I could not see where I was going,” she admitted.
“That much is clear,” he said dryly. “But little else is.” He quirked a brow. “Care to enlighten me?”
“Yes, I will, of course. But I must return to South Audley Street before Frederick comes down to breakfast or I may have to also enlighten him, and I would rather not.”
“I shall walk with you, Miss Edgcott. Have you a pin about you to attach your veil?”
Eleanor reached into the pocket of her cloak and quickly pulled out her reticule. The string that tied it had become loose and some of its contents dropped onto the cobbles.
Both of them quickly bent and picked up one of the items. Lord Allerdale examined the small pistol closely for a moment, a twist of a smile playing about his lips.
“You are full of surprises, Miss Edgcott. Do you know how to use it?”
“You may be sure, I do. My father…” she paused, a stricken look upon her face.
She gazed down at the pocket watch in her palm. The glass casing had smashed.
“It was Papa’s,” she said, a catch in her voice.
He gently plucked it from her small hand and put the pistol in its place.
“It is only the front that is damaged. I shall have it mended for you.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Her large brown eyes were brimming with tears, and she dashed a hand across them.
“Forgive me, sir. I am being foolish.”
She fished a pin from the reticule, dropped the pistol into it, and pulled the strings tight, before swiftly pinning her veil back in place.
“There, I am ready.”
“On second thoughts, it will be better if I drive you, Miss Edgcott. It will be both quicker and occasion less remark. It would look a little odd if I were to be seen strolling about with a maid on my arm. Promise me you will wait. My curricle is being readied as we speak; I was on my way to fetch it when I heard the commotion in the street. I will not be many moments.”
“I will wait,” she said quietly.
He was as good as his word, and the curricle swept out into the lane before she had had time to gather her thoughts. Not wishing to waste any more time, she did not wait for assistance but hopped lightly up into it.
“Did you manage to stop the duel?”
“No, it had already begun by the time I arrived. Your letter was only delivered to Duke Street this morning.”
“I assumed you lived in Berkeley Square,” she said. “How foolish of me not to realise you might have your own rooms. Was Lord Sandford injured?”
“Again, no. I have much to thank you for, Miss Edgcott.”
“I felt sure you would wish to know,” she said simply. “But this morning my fears seemed ridiculous and I wondered if I had overreacted, but there was no time for procrastination.”
She had looked up at him as she spoke and was suddenly very grateful for her veil, for his intense glance held such warmth and gratitude that she felt quite mesmerised. She only realised she had been holding her breath when he turned his attention back to the road.
“Your letter to Bow Street ensured that the duel was eventually halted. You are extremely thorough, Miss Edgcott; you left nothing to chance. Why did you think that Sandford may have been injured?”
They were already approaching South Audley Street and she quickly told him of Diana’s letter and their visit to the park, and how Lord Sandford had not put in an appearance.
He frowned. “You should not have gone, ma’am.”
“But it was you who suggested that she speak to him,” she protested. “And as you said, I leave nothing to chance which is why I took my pistol.”
Until this moment he had shown no great surprise or disapproval at finding her in such a strange predicament, but now he fixed her with an incredulous stare and his next words were uttered with biting scorn.
“Miss Edgcott, there are at least a dozen things that could have gone awry, especially if your pistol had come into play. Lady Haverham should have spoken to Sandford at a ball or some other society event. What is more, if such a clandestine meeting had come to Haverham’s ears it would not have looked well. Your actions this morning have been both stupid and dangerous.”
Eleanor gasped at his rudeness.
“Set me down here, if you please,” she said icily.
As they were almost at her door, he obligingly came to a halt.
“You have not yet explained why you then went to Bruton Street alone.”
Eleanor jumped down. “I am very grateful for your help, sir, but that is no one’s business but my own. Good day.”
She turned on the words, hurried down the street a little way, and mounted a shallow flight of steps, grateful when Stanley opened the door to her immediately. She slipped a coin into his hand, tore off her veil, and ran up the stairs.
Diana was waiting for her in her room.
“Eleanor! You have been an age!”
She waved the veil and forced herself to speak calmly. “I found it so hard to see that I could only move at a snail’s pace. I am pleased you are feeling better.”
Linny said nothing, but her mouth was set in a disapproving line as she took back her hat and helped Eleanor out of the cloak, leaving her in no doubt that she would have to listen to more recriminations presently. Having known her from her cradle, Eleanor acknowledged that her maid had that right and would listen to them without taking umbrage. Lord Allerdale had no such right, however, especially when his own escapades were taken into consideration.
“I am much better,” Diana said. “A cup of tea and a biscuit were all that I required. I think it was all that exercise on an empty stomach which caused me to feel ill. Eleanor! You will not believe it, but Sandford sent us on a wild goose chase; he never had any intention of meeting me, he only wanted to teach me a lesson. He is a horrid toad! Read this.”
She thrust a card at her. Sandford’s card. He had scrawled a f
ew words on the back of it.
Lady Haverham,
How long did you wait, I wonder? It is so very tedious to have one’s time wasted, isn’t it?
Sandford
“Quite abominable,” Eleanor agreed. “But at least you need no longer worry about him, Diana.”
Chapter 13
Miles waited until Miss Edgcott had disappeared inside the house before driving on. He had not meant to cut at her; he did not have that right, nor did he wish to have it. He could think of nothing worse than to be saddled with a headstrong chit who always thought she knew best! He would admit that her quick actions concerning the duel were to be admired; they had shown she had a cool head and a quick wit in a crisis. He was very grateful to her, and when he had realised that the heavily veiled woman who had cannoned into him was not a maid but Miss Edgcott, he had not paused to consider why she should be masquerading in such a fashion, he had only been aware of a desire to shield her from harm.
Any fear that she had been injured by the fall had been swiftly put to flight. As soon as she had snuggled into his shoulder like a trusting kitten, and given that ridiculously exaggerated moan, he had not only realised that she was unhurt, but had suspected that she was positively enjoying herself. He did not think he had ever met a young lady with less sensibility. She had shown no discomposure when her imposture was discovered but had laughed with sublime unconcern, apparently convinced that he could be trusted to keep her secret, almost as if they had known each other for years rather than days. And he had been so sucked in by her smiling eyes that he had also made light of the whole episode, even talking some nonsense about not being a wall!
His expression softened. No, it was not true that she was devoid of all sensibility; when she had realised that she had damaged the watch her papa had left her, she had been powerfully affected. Her large eyes had swum with tears and her determination to overcome this momentary weakness had touched him. But when she had explained the reason for her disguise and the pistol in her reticule, amusement and sympathy alike had been supplanted by incredulity and anger that she seemed so oblivious to the dangers that could have upset her foolish plan. He did not believe for a moment that she would have pulled the trigger – and neither would Sandford have if he had kept the rendezvous – but he might well have discovered her identity, and he already had reason to resent her. He would not have hesitated to spread the story and would have rejoiced in her fall from grace.
Miles shook his head. Why he should have been moved to anger was beyond him; Miss Edgcott was no concern of his. Why she should trust him so blindly was a mystery; she knew full well that he had not lived a blameless existence. Perhaps that was it. It had probably never occurred to her that he would have been shocked by her escapade, and he did, after all, owe her a debt of gratitude. He gave a low laugh. What a sermonising fellow he was turning into. It was not yet ten o’clock, but he had already read two people a lecture this morning. Charles had taken his in much better part, however. Now that the issue of the duel had been resolved, he was his usual self and had taken his trimming down with cheerful unconcern.
Miles had been a little surprised that such a seasoned soldier had been so troubled over the whole affair, but Charles had explained it to him.
“It is not the same thing at all, old fellow. I am trained to kill an unknown enemy; it is my duty, but it is not personal. And once enjoined in the heat of battle, I have no choice; it is a case of kill or be killed. I do not particularly like Sandford, but I have known him for years. The thought that I might take the life of someone I have known since we were at school did not feel right. I would not have drawn his cork if I had been sober, of course, and I never expected him to call me out; he had deserved it after all.” Charles had shaken his head. “He has always possessed a malicious tongue and lived life at a furious rate, but I do not remember him being quite so full of spite as he is now.”
Miles thought that he might understand this change in their acquaintance. Sandford was a little older than them, and whilst he had been surrounded by cronies who lived life as hard and fast as he did himself, he had seemed nothing at all out of the ordinary. But as the years had passed, more and more of his fellow revellers had fallen by the wayside, either marrying or adopting a more sober way of life as they inherited their estates and the obligations that went with them.
It was perhaps not surprising that Sandford had seemed so scornful when he had discovered that Miles seemed to have joined their ranks. With each passing year he was becoming a more solitary figure, but he refused to let go of the lifestyle he had become accustomed to – a lifestyle Miles had gradually come to realise was hollow. He had known it even before he had returned to Brigham last summer to lay his latest folly before his father. But whereas Miles had a family whom he respected to temper his actions, Sandford had no one but himself to please, and he doubted very much that he respected anybody overmuch.
He drove through the gates of Lord’s ground and nodded at one of the boys who hung about in the hope of looking after a gentleman’s horses.
“My groom will be here presently, walk them until he arrives, will you?”
The match was to be played on the morrow, and most of the team were meeting later that day, but as he wished to spend it with Charles, Cranbourne and Somerton had arranged to meet him for a final practice this morning. He was surprised to see Carteret had also joined them.
“What is this?” he cried, peeling off his coat and striding onto the pitch. “Fraternising with the enemy?”
“Come, come,” Lord Carteret said, “it is only a friendly match, after all.”
Miles grinned. “There is no such thing as a friendly match!”
At the end of an hour, he had had the satisfaction of sending several of Carteret’s quickly delivered balls sailing through the air – only Somerton had sent any further – and he was in high good humour.
“Well done, Allerdale,” Lord Somerton said, “you shall not put us to shame, that is certain. We shall see you this afternoon.”
Miles raised a surprised brow. “I thought I had explained that I was already engaged.”
“We are all engaged, Allerdale,” Cranbourne said, smiling. “Lady Bassington has sent us all invitations to join your party at Richmond Park. We are to bring a basket of something, she did not specify what, but I assume she meant food as we are to enjoy an al fresco luncheon.”
“I was unaware of the expedition,” Miles admitted.
“I only received my invitation this morning,” Lord Carteret said.
“You too?” Miles said, surprised. “What is she up to, I wonder?”
“Why should she be up to anything?” Lord Somerton said. “She seems to take no common delight in the company of both Georgianna and Marianne and the day is fine, surely that is enough reason?”
“She has good taste,” grinned Lord Cranbourne.
“Undoubtedly,” agreed Lord Somerton.
“Do you know,” Miles said, “I am suddenly grateful that I have not yet had time to break my fast, for to hear you two waxing lyrical about your wives after so many months of wedded bliss, fair turns my stomach.”
As his words were not laced with malice, and an amused glint brightened his eyes, neither gentleman took the least offence at these cynical words.
“Why haven’t you had time to eat your breakfast?” Lord Carteret asked, looking at him closely. “Had a late night of it, did you?”
“The chance would be a fine thing,” Miles said dryly. “It seems that since I came to Town, I have had very little time to consult my own wishes on anything!”
As he drove to Berkeley Square, Tibbs cleared his throat and said, “His lordship wishes to see you the moment we get back, sir.”
His gloomy tone put Miles on his guard.
“Thank you, Tibbs. I don’t suppose he gave you any indication as to why the matter might be so urgent?”
“No, that he did not,” Tibbs said. “But he did ask me as to your whereabouts this mo
rning.”
“Did he?” Miles said softly. “And what did you tell him?”
“Only that you had asked me to bring your horse to you early, sir. I knew nothing else, after all. But he spoke to me in precisely the same way as you are now. I swear you are becoming more like him every day. It gives me the shivers, so it does.”
Miles chose to ignore the comparison.
“You did not mention the footman or the letter he brought me?”
“No, sir. But he looked at me as if he didn’t believe a word I said, anyways.”
A reluctant smile curved Miles’ lips.
“Do not concern yourself, Tibbs. My father would not rate a groom who did not keep his master’s secrets.”
He entered his father’s study with an unconcerned smile on his face. “Good morning, sir. How can I serve you?”
“I cannot imagine,” Lord Brigham said, laying down his pen and regarding him with the satirical gleam that he knew of old. “But you will tell me, if you please, why you allowed your cousin to embroil himself in a duel.”
For a moment Miles was in complete sympathy with his groom, for his father’s words, whilst softly uttered, left their recipient under no illusion that prevarication was an option.
“I did not allow him to do anything, sir,” he said. “I had no notion that he intended to meet Sandford until this morning.”
“And yet you asked Tibbs to bring your horse to you at five thirty.”
“I did,” he said, just as gently. “I have become used to rising with the sun, sir, and if one wishes to ride hell for leather down Rotten Row, it must be done at an early hour.” He smiled wryly. “It is one of the inconveniences of residing in Town.”
“May I ask why you wished to ride, er, hell for leather, as you put it?”
Miles shrugged. “I have a great deal of energy, sir, and for some reason I cannot quite fathom, I no longer find the amusements offered in Town quite use it up.”
Lord Brigham sat back in his chair, a small smile playing about his lips. “You have never been a liar, Allerdale, I will give you that.”
“I am unmanned by your praise, sir,” he said, his tone quite as dry as his father’s.