What had upset her about Rosalind was that everyone was so taken with her. To discover that the entire world assumed there was an equal amount of beauty and charm of spirit underneath the carefully cultivated exterior when there was nothing of the sort, was what had always bothered Sarah about Rosalind. She was certain of that. At least she now felt convinced that Lord Farringdon appeared to be under no illusions as to her sister-in-law, for no one could suspect a person of passing along state secrets to the enemy and maintain a very high opinion of her character.
Again Sarah’s expression was a mirror of her thoughts, and Alistair suppressed another smile. So she really did care what he thought of the Marchioness of Cranleigh. Why on earth should he find that so gratifying? The earl shook his head. “Now,” he began briskly, “that leaves us with a great deal to do.”
“Us?” Sarah blurted in surprise. But she was no proof against the surge of happiness that rose within her at his wishing to include her in whatever adventure was in store for him.
Chapter Eighteen
The earl grinned. “You do not think I am such a selfish lout that having plunged you into this affair without so much as a by-you-leave, I would then keep all the rest of the excitement to myself, do you? I am not so poor a fellow as that.” Alistair congratulated himself at her gasp of delighted surprise. He had gauged her character to a nicety, then. His suspicion that she had a secret longing for adventure was entirely correct.
Lady Sarah looked more pleased to be included in it than if he had told her that she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Her eyes shone, and her entire posture was one of eager anticipation. Alistair could hardly keep from laughing; she looked so much like a hound that had just found a fresh scent. How very dull her life must have been, stuck here in the country with nothing but her books for amusement and her grandmother and the vicar for company.
“Now admire the roses,” the earl admonished her. “It must seem as though we have nothing more enlivening to discuss than the different varieties you have managed to cultivate here at Cranleigh.” Sarah’s gratified smile revealed that he had not been wrong in that assumption either. Of course, Rosalind would have been far too busy cultivating her own beauty to care about a garden, and he knew Sarah’s mother had died many years ago, so, with the exception of Lady Willoughby, that left only one possible keeper of the garden.
For her part, Sarah was wondering just how one person, and a gentleman at that, could be quite so perceptive. She supposed, however, that his professions, both as a spy and as a rake, demanded such acute powers of observation. Still, she could not help but feel flattered by the close attention he was paying her.
“We must find out exactly what it is that Rosalind has told the chevalier, and somehow we must convince her to refrain from giving him any more information until we can ... er ... discourage his presence here in England,” Lord Farringdon continued thinking aloud.
“But how ever will you do that? It is not, of course, that I doubt your powers of persuasion, but...”
Alistair did not miss the twinkle in Sarah’s eyes or the tiny smile that hovered at the corners of her mouth. The little minx! She was teasing him. But even as he noticed it, her expression became more thoughtful. “Why do you not persuade her to give the chevalier more information, only make it the wrong information? That way, she will not be in danger from the chevalier and England will not be either.”
The earl regarded his companion with dawning respect. There had never been much doubt that Sarah was intelligent but this was positively clever, and he wished that he had thought of it himself. “An excellent suggestion. You seem to have a veritable knack for this.” When he saw how much pleasure this simple response brought her, he was more than happy that it was she who had come up with such a brilliant scheme.
How unappreciated Lady Sarah must have been all her life to be so thrilled with the few crumbs of recognition as he gave her from time to time. Considering that her brother was a blockhead who could not see beyond his own nose and was totally unwilling to acknowledge the existence or importance of anyone besides himself, Alistair decided it was completely understandable.
“Now that you have come up with the solution to our problems, I suppose you are also ready with the suggestions for executing it,” he teased.
“Well yes, as a matter of fact,” Sarah admitted with an answering smile, “I have.”
For a moment the earl’s handsome countenance contorted into a rueful grimace. “I can see that I have been relegated to functioning as the merest accessory in all of this.” His tone was plaintive, but his eyes gleamed with amusement.
“Not at all. In fact, you are the key, for only you hold enough influence with Rosalind to be able to persuade her to do something.”
“You are too kind.” There was no mistaking the ironic note in his voice, and Sarah took foolish delight in it. Then he was no longer Rosalind’s devoted admirer, despite the sympathy he had expressed for her earlier.
“What makes you think that I, or anyone else for that matter, has any power to control the fair marchioness?”
“Oh, it is not just Rosalind; from what I hear, you can prevail upon any woman to do anything you wish.” Sarah laughed at the earl’s expression of mock horror. “And I draw this conclusion from what I have seen as well,” she hastened to add. “Why, even Lady Edgecumbe is practically eating out of your hand. They all toady to you in the most remarkable way.”
“Which you simply cannot understand,” he finished for her.
Sarah chuckled, then added offhandedly, “But then, that sort of thing does not interest me.”
“And what, pray tell is that sort of thing?” Piqued by the superior tone in her voice, the earl was not about to let her off easily. All his life he had chased after beautiful women and, accustomed to charming all of those he pursued, he was not going to let this snip of a girl dismiss him so lightly.
A faint flush tinged Sarah’s cheeks, as looking just the tiniest bit self-conscious, she stammered, “Oh ... you know ... society...”
Alistair knew perfectly well what she meant, but he schooled his features into a look of innocent perplexity.
Sarah tried again. “Well, men, I mean women and... oh, call it flirtation.” By now she was most uncomfortable, and what was worse, she suspected the earl of maneuvering her into this awkward situation and then secretly laughing at her.
“What? You have never flirted with anyone? Never sighed over a handsome face?”
Unable to speak, Sarah shook her head vigorously.
“Never even wanted to?” he pursued incredulously.
Again she shook her head, though not with quite so much assurance this time. All her life Sarah had scorned lying and deception, but now she was beginning to realize that sometimes it was not such a simple thing to adhere to exacting principles, for while it was not precisely a lie, it was also not entirely true that she had never sighed over a handsome face. The images of the earl and Rosalind were far too intrusive in her thoughts for her to ignore.
She had never allowed herself to wonder what the constant presence of that image might signify, and she certainly was not about to now, but given its frequent reappearance in her consciousness, she did have her doubts as to the complete sincerity of her answer. It was definitely time to change the subject.
She drew a deep breath before suggesting, “Somehow, in addition to helping Rosalind pass along incorrect information, we must discover what she has already given the chevalier so that you can pass it along to your superiors and they can change their plans accordingly.”
“Whew!” Alistair whistled in admiration. “You are a deep one, are you not? You take to this espionage thing like a duck to water. Are you sure you have never done it before?”
Sarah could not decide whether to be pleased at his admiration for her cleverness or insulted that he could even think she would engage in such nefarious activity. As a result, she wound up looking adorably confused.
It was a most
uncharacteristic look, one the earl found oddly attractive. Even more gratifying was the knowledge that it was he who had disconcerted this terrifyingly self-assured young lady. “As you appear to have it all thought out, may I know what the next step in this affair is to be?” Try as he would, Alistair could not hide the edge in his voice. After all, he had been at this game for years, and here was a green girl who had been plunged into it all only a scant twelve hours ago, calmly dictating strategy to him as though she were Colonel Sir George Murray himself.
His pique was not lost on Sarah, who took no little satisfaction from it. She had not the least desire to have the arrogant earl think he could manipulate her as easily as he did the rest of the fair sex. To give the man his due, he appeared to be rather clever and certainly articulate, but he was not the demigod the rest of the female population appeared to consider him. Smiling graciously, she replied. “Why, yes. From now on it is all up to you to get Rosalind to confide in you, which is something only you can do, and I would not dream of suggesting how to go about it. You have your ways, I am sure.” Sarah exulted to herself as she saw his lips tighten. She had provoked him after all, and she had meant to. She was not ordinarily a contrary person, but there was just something about Lord Farringdon that impelled her to compete with him, even if it were only verbally. The man was so sure of himself, she could not help taking it as a challenge.
Alistair grinned. “Yes, as you say, I do have my ways, and since I have been doing my utmost to avoid an intimate tête-à-tête with the marchioness from the moment I arrived, it should be simplicity itself to accomplish this next task.” He noted the dangerous sparkle in his companion’s eyes with smug satisfaction. There, that should pay her back for the tone of gracious condescension with which she had referred to his many flirtations. “Now, don’t poker up at me. Lady Sarah, you asked for it. If you continue to treat me as though I were an arrant coxcomb, why then, I shall act like one. I am not at all stupid, you know.”
Sarah had the grace to blush. She really had been rather hard on him, but she was still feeling discomfited from his earlier probing about her feelings toward the relationships men and women had with each other.
The earl took pity on her. “And much of the time, I freely admit, I am a coxcomb. It is just that I am not accustomed to dealing with people who are competent as well as clever, and I find the whole experience unnerving, though delightful, but unnerving nevertheless. You must forgive me for trying to reestablish my self-respect, which you are so very hard on. Shall we cry friends then?”
The man looked so penitent that Sarah could not help laughing and taking the proffered hand. There was no doubt about it. Lord Farringdon could disarm the devil himself. “Friends. I hope you do not discover anything too alarming when you talk to Rosalind.”
He was suddenly grave. “I hope I do not either. She is a vain creature, but she has never had much guidance. Her father and her brother were entirely bent on their own pleasures, and all she could do was go along with them or be left to her own devices. I am not excusing her behavior, but she has been shown only one way to act, and that is selfishly.
“The reputation of the Tredingtons is such that she could not hope to capture a man wise enough to guide her or strong enough to stand up to her. The end result has been that she has grown only more headstrong as she has grown older. Without the help of her family, she has had to rely upon herself to get what she wanted. Though her goals may not have been admirable, her determination has been. Now she stands a chance of losing much of what she has fought for, and I am sure that she is not about to give it up. I must see that she does not destroy herself in the process.”
Sarah regarded him soberly. At least now she was convinced that Rosalind was nothing to the earl. He saw all too clearly what she was. In fact, he saw her more clearly and more objectively than Sarah had heretofore been able to, and she was just the tiniest bit humbled by this. Nor could she help but feel a begrudging admiration for his chivalrous impulses. Apart from his obvious concern that Rosalind was passing along vital information to the enemy, he was genuinely solicitous of her welfare in a purely disinterested manner.
Lord Farringdon certainly did have surprising depths to his character, Sarah concluded. There was no doubt he was a most complex person, who was beginning to exert a rather dangerous fascination on her. It was definitely time to change the subject, change the company, and regain some of her equilibrium. “I have every confidence you will be able to help, not only your country, but Rosalind as well. Now you must forgive me, but I did promise to show Lady Edgecumbe around the village.” Lord, she sounded like the starchiest of bluestockings, but she could not think of anything else to say. With a fleeting smile and a brief nod of her head, Sarah made her escape and went in search of her assigned companion, leaving Alistair to his own reflections.
Chapter Nineteen
His reflections were many and complicated. Foremost, however, was his appreciation for her quick-wittedness, her ability to grasp the problem at hand and get right to a solution. Alistair could hardly call to mind any man who did this well, much less a woman. Why, for a moment, even he, who was usually ahead of his fellows, had felt a little slow, but he had not minded too much. In fact, he had experienced a curious sort of pride in her continuing to fulfill his initial belief in her capabilities. Yet for all her intelligence and her mental sophistication, there was a naiveté about Sarah that Alistair found enchanting. On one hand, she could render material assistance without the blink of an eye to a wounded man who appeared on her doorstep in the middle of the night under most suspicious circumstances; yet on the other, the merest mention of men and women and love overset her completely in spite of her insistence that she had no interest in such things whatsoever.
For a moment the earl toyed with the idea of making her fall in love with him. As far back as he could remember, he had never failed to win over even the most resistant of females. Lady Sarah would present a challenge of the highest order, to be sure, and there was nothing that stimulated Lord Farringdon more than a challenge. But somehow he could not do it. Another part of him, the stronger part, wanted to protect her from men who were just like him. He wanted to defend such innocence—no, it was not innocence precisely, because she was well aware of such things—call it purity, against someone who wished to threaten that purity simply for the sport of it.
To be perfectly honest, this hitherto unsuspected chivalrous aspect of his character was, for the first time in his life, making the earl suffer just the slightest twinge of remorse for his previous predatory attitude where the fair sex was concerned.
But had he truly been predatory? No, now that he considered it, he felt compelled to say in his own defense that all the women he had made love to had been more than willing in the end. Any resistance they had shown had been merely for the sake of propriety, to force him into a declaration he did not wish to make, or to make him part with some very expensive proofs of his interest. More often than not, it was he who had had to do the resisting. And it seemed as though he was going to be called upon to do some more resisting at this very moment, for Alistair had just caught sight of the Marchioness of Cranleigh picking her way daintily through the roses in his direction.
“Good day, my lord. I had not thought to see you involved in such tame sport.” Rosalind greeted him with a most enchanting smile that gave him ample opportunity to admire the delicious dimples and perfect teeth.
“Why, may not anyone appreciate the beauties of nature, my lady?” The earl responded with a smile equally as intimate and suggestive as that of the marchioness.
“Of course they may, foolish man.” She rapped his knuckles playfully with the ivory handle of the delicate lace parasol that was shading her lovely face. “But they are not generally men like you.”
“Oho, this is dangerous ground. And what sort of man am I, pray tell?” The gray eyes glinted with amusement, and something else that was far more unsettling.
Observing the earl closely
from under long, dark lashes, Rosalind was hard put to identify that something. Being Rosalind, she naturally assumed it to be a passionate attraction to her person; however, there remained just the slightest bit of doubt. The Earl of Burnleigh was in general a rather disconcerting person to know. He never behaved as other members of the ton did, and he certainly never behaved as he ought, which was precisely why she had broken off their affair, Rosalind told herself smugly, forgetting entirely that it was Lord Farringdon’s gentle but firm refusal to invite her to become Countess of Burnleigh that had been the true cause of the rupture.
The earl’s question still hung between them, and with a coquettish smile, Rosalind opened her eyes wide. “What sort of man are you? Surely so many other women have told you that my reading of your character is quite unnecessary and is likely to make you even more top-lofty than you already are.”
“I? Top-lofty? Surely, I have never been anything but your admiring slave, my fair one. You must elaborate; you cannot leave me in such an agony of suspense, you know.” Alistair persisted in the hope that something she said would leave him an opening to ask the questions he wished to pursue.
“Oh.” Rosalind fluttered her eyelashes. “I do not know. However, I do know that you are more an adventurer than an observer. You are far more likely to wrestle with nature than admire it.”
“A cantankerous sort, in fact.” Lord Farringdon chuckled.
“Not cantankerous, precisely, but...” She struggled to find just the right words. “Adventurous, bold. One might almost say that you seek out trouble and excitement.” Rosalind bit her full lower lip enticingly. La, she had forgotten just how attractive such characteristics could be, especially when they were embodied in such a handsome figure of a man as the Earl of Burnleigh was. And how very dull her husband and his cronies were.
The Reluctant Heiress Page 15