Amanda Scott (18 page)

Startled, Melissa looked from one to the other, and saw at once that Charley was keeping a rein on her temper. When it became apparent that she would not deign to reply, Melissa said hastily, “Have you been to this house before, sir?”

“I have,” he responded, grinning at her, “and I happen to know that just beyond that door yonder an orchestra is striking up for some dancing. May I have the honor, Miss Seacourt?”

“Certainly, sir,” she said, allowing him to draw her hand through the crook of his arm. They made their way to the far side of the room, but when Rockland opened the door he had indicated, and urged her through it, she saw at once that the room was unoccupied. “We’ve come the wrong way, sir. There is no one dancing here.”

“I lied,” he said, firmly shutting the door.

N
ICK HAD ALLOWED CLARA
to draw him into conversation as much to show Lady Ophelia that he would not dance to her piping as for any other reason, but Clara was behaving as if there had been no breach between them. The fact that others, including his restive brother, stood chatting with them had much to do with her attitude, he knew, but since they were members of the same set, he was bound to meet her frequently. Therefore, he intended to set the tone for those future meetings now.

She made a light comment to Oliver, adding with a laugh, “You need only ask Nicky if that is not so, or any of a dozen others. Tell him, Nicky.”

“I’m afraid I was not attending,” he said. He ignored her frown, but it did not last long, for her attention shifted toward the doorway into the stair hall. Following her gaze, Nick saw Sir Geoffrey Seacourt enter the room with Yarborne. When he realized that Clara had caught Seacourt’s eye and was fluttering her lashes at him, Nick wondered idly if the charming, debonair companion who had escorted her from Newmarket might have been Sir Geoffrey.

He gave the matter no more thought, however, for he caught sight just then of Lady Ophelia and Miss Tarrant, and saw that Melissa was not with them. “Forgive me,” he said to Clara as he scanned the throng, looking for Melissa’s silvery blond hair. He almost missed her. He would, in fact have done so had the man with her not bent forward to open the door they approached, revealing Melissa just when Nick’s gaze fell upon them. They were on the far side of the room, and since it was some time since his last visit to Northumberland House, a moment passed before he recalled that the door led into the State Bedchamber. Aware that that portion of the house was not open to view that night, he could think of no good reason for Melissa to be there. Then her escort turned slightly, revealing his profile, and Nick recognized him. Without another word to his companions, he strode after them.

The crowd parted before him as if his very annoyance warned others of his approach, though several people murmured greetings as he passed. He did not heed them. The door had shut long before he reached it, and he was as certain as he could be of what he would find when he opened it. Rockland was not to be trusted with an innocent female—no more, Nick thought wryly, than he himself should be.

Reaching the door, he pulled it open at once and stepped into the room, startling both occupants considerably.

When Melissa saw him, she began to move away from her companion, but Rockland’s hands were on her shoulders, and although he looked astonished to see Nick, he did not release her. Instead, he said blandly, “You interrupt my little scene, Vexford. Do be a good fellow, and go away at once.”

Nick snapped, “Take your hands off her.”

Rockland snatched his hands back as if they had been scalded. Hastily, he said, “Like that, is it? Didn’t know, old fellow. No way anyone could know, come to that. Haven’t seen you in days, have I? Haven’t seen this young woman before at all.”

“You will, however, see an announcement in the
Gazette
tomorrow that will make matters perfectly plain to you,” Nick said coldly.

“Will I, by God?”

Having stepped away from him the moment she was released, Melissa said with apparent calm, “Really, my lord, you have no reason to eat the poor man. As he was just explaining to me, he merely—”

“I will talk to you when he leaves. Get out, Rockland.”

“Certainly. Your servant, ma’am.” Without further ado, he left the room.

“Now, Miss Seacourt,” Nick said grimly, reaching for her. To his surprise, she caught his hand with both of hers, and moved closer, looking up into his eyes with an intense, appealing gaze that reminded him of nothing so much as a hopeful kitten.

Still holding his hand, she smiled and said, “So fierce, my lord? I promise you, you have no cause to be. Lord Rockland is presently absorbed in engaging my cousin Charley’s interest, and he had the misfortune to believe that by inviting me to dance, and then bringing me in here instead, he might somehow stir her to jealousy. He didn’t, of course, but you must have seen the disconcerted expression on his face when he saw that it was you who followed us in here instead of her.”

Making no attempt to disengage his hand from her gentle grasp, he said, “Rockland cannot have expected Miss Tarrant to follow the two of you.”

“But he did, and when you know her better, you will see that although he was wrong to think she would, such an expectation is not so absurd as one might believe. My cousin is a most unusual female.”

“Your cousin wants conduct,” he said curtly, “and so, I’m afraid, do you.”

“Are you very angry with me?” He could smell her lavender scent when she leaned a little toward him to ask the question. She looked anxiously into his eyes.

Afraid he might unintentionally have frightened her again, he said more calmly, “You deserve that I should be vexed, do you not? Surely you know better than to enter a room alone with a man you do not know.”

“I didn’t know where he was bringing me,” she said. “He told me there was an orchestra.” She frowned. “I suppose you must think me very stupid, but I still don’t know all the rules of this game, and it will take some time for me to learn them.”

“What rules? What are you talking about?”

“You said you prefer ladies who know the rules and can play their hands with confidence. I know I must have played this hand badly, since I seem to have displeased you, but I can learn quickly, I promise.”

He stared at her, well aware that he had never mentioned the fact that he had much different expectations for the woman who was to be his wife than he had for women who merely amused him. She had caught him off guard, and he experienced an odd desire to kiss her and shake her at one and the same time. He settled for saying sternly, “We have a good deal to talk about, but this is neither the time nor the place. The announcement of our betrothal has not yet appeared in the
Gazette,
but even if it had, we would be unwise to stir gossip by lingering in such a private place as this. We must return at once to Lady Ophelia and your cousin.”

Melissa went with Vexford willingly, relieved that he no longer seemed angry. When he had first come into the room, he had looked as if he wanted to murder someone, and when Rockland had abandoned her without so much as helping to explain matters, she had feared the worst. Now, however, although she sensed that the man beside her was still irritated, she no longer thought him dangerous.

They found Lady Ophelia and Charley without difficulty, and when the old lady said she was ready to leave, they agreed. As they made their way through the crowd, Melissa saw Sir Geoffrey and a man she recognized at once as Lord Yarborne, both talking with the bejeweled blond lady who had been with Vexford earlier. Melissa’s relief increased. At least, she thought, by leaving now, she would avoid a confrontation with either her unpredictable father or the man to whom he had meant to marry her.

Oliver Barrington joined them as they reached the stair landing, saying casually, “Saw you were leaving, Nick. I daresay you won’t miss me if I go with my own friends now. Rigger ain’t back yet, but a few of the other lads have decided to—”

“You’ll come with us, Ollie.”

“But I—”

“Do you desire Lady Ophelia and her nieces to think you don’t enjoy their company?”

Flushing, Oliver begged their pardon and assured them that there was nothing he would like more than to escort them wherever they wanted to go. A link boy called up Vexford’s tilbury, along with Lady Ophelia’s carriage, and when Lady Ophelia gave her driver the direction for their next stop, Vexford assured her that he and Oliver would be right behind them.

However, by the time the three weary ladies were set down in Berkeley Square several hours later, having stopped first at a cotillion and then at two routs, Oliver Barrington had long since managed to escape. Melissa could not blame him, and Charley only laughed and said, “He will get his ears scorched for it, if not worse. Vexford does not seem like a man who easily dismisses the flouting of his commands.”

“Most men,” Lady Ophelia said dryly, “do not take defiance lightly, my dear.”

Still chuckling, Charley said, “Grandpapa would say that’s because the laws of nature ordain that males should dominate.”

“There are many exceptions to the laws of nature.”

Listening to them, Melissa was reminded again of childhood days in Cornwall, listening to Lady Ophelia argue with the old earl. Grandpapa St. Merryn believed in the natural superiority of the male as firmly as Lady Ophelia believed in that of the female. Their exchanges had been lively, to say the least, and remembering them as she followed the others upstairs to bed, Melissa realized that she had not appreciated her peaceful days in Scotland as much she ought to have.

Upstairs, she apologized to Charley for going off with Rockland but was not much surprised when Charley only shrugged and said, “Rockland is an ass. He teases me incessantly, but he proves useful when I want him to be, so I put up with him.”

Bidding her good-night, Melissa went to her own chamber and soon fell fast asleep. It was not until the following morning, while reading the official announcement of her betrothal in the
Gazette,
that she remembered that Vexford’s family consisted of more than just his scapegrace brother. Alarmed, she said, “Won’t Vexford’s parents be distressed to learn of his intended marriage in such a shocking manner?”

Lady Ophelia, sitting at her desk and writing in the latest volume of the journal she had kept since she was a girl, looked up and said, “If that young man has any sense, he must have informed them of his intention last night, my dear. If you recall, he said they were expected to return to London at any moment, so you may depend upon it that he will not have neglected to give them the news before they can read it in the papers.”

“Do you know them, ma’am?”

“Yes, indeed. Ulcombe is a respectable man, who is much inclined to look after those more unfortunate than himself, and Arabella is a kindly woman, though I daresay she has not read anything more stimulating to the brain than romantic novels in years. Ulcombe possesses a vast amount of money, of course, but he has more sense than most rich men, except with regard to his dealings with young Oliver. The only person who seems to demand that scamp’s obedience is his elder brother.”

Charley was reading an account in the
Times
of the latest session in the House of Commons, from which she had already read bits aloud to them, but she had apparently been keeping an ear on their conversation. Looking up from her paper, she said with a laugh, “We saw last night how effective Vexford’s commands are, ma’am, but I like Oliver Barrington. He has laughing eyes, and he doesn’t seem to care a scrap for his brother’s temper.”

“That may well be,” Lady Ophelia said, “but if I have taken Vexford’s measure, I believe we will receive a visit today from young Mr. Barrington. You may see then if his eyes are still laughing. In the meantime, my dears, you must tidy yourselves, for if that announcement don’t bring a horde of morning callers to have a look at the bride, you may call me a Dutchman.”

Neither young woman would have dared to call her any such thing, but in the event, Lady Ophelia was right. Her more intimate friends began paying morning calls at ten, following one another in a steady stream until noon, when she gave orders that she was no longer receiving. The three ladies enjoyed a light luncheon, and then Lady Ophelia allowed her servants to admit visitors again.

Afternoon callers, as custom demanded, were generally more formal than those who visited in the morning, many doing no more than leaving cards at the door. Nevertheless, a good many came upstairs to the drawing room and sat with their hostess and her nieces for the requisite twenty minutes. Thus, when rain began to pour down in torrents soon after three o’clock, just as one set of visitors was leaving and before any others had arrived, all three ladies greeted the storm’s arrival with relief.

Collapsing into a chair in a way that ought to have drawn censure, Charley said, “Tell them to deny us to anyone else, ma’am. My throat is sore from talking, but what a day, and how inquisitive certain people are! I wish I might believe that Lady Jersey came so early this morning only to pay her respects to you, ma’am, but I think she just wants to be able to say she met Lissa before others had become acquainted with her.”

“Say nothing against Sally, my dear,” Lady Ophelia said with a chuckle. “She had the goodness to provide your cousin with a voucher for Almack’s.”

“Oh, pooh, as if Lady Sefton would not have obliged you, or Lady Gwydyr.”

“Who are they?” Melissa asked.

Charley said, “You met Lady Jersey. She believes she sets the moral standard for all Englishwomen. Lady Sefton is a dear, and Lady Gwydyr used to be Mrs. Drummond-Burrell before she became a baroness in her own right. She is very starched up, as much as Lady Jersey. They and some others are the present patronesses of Almack’s Assembly Rooms. One must enjoy their favor if one is even to step across that important threshold.”

“Does one so desperately wish to cross it then?”

“If one is to succeed in the
beau monde,
one does,” Charley said with a sigh. “I was ready to tell them all to go jump in the Thames. I think it is perfectly idiotic to bend the knee to such arbitrary rules as they are constantly dreaming up, but Aunt Ophelia convinced me that I was being as selfish in my way as they are in theirs. In truth, to be shut out would be quite dreadful. But just look at that rain,” she added, peering out the window. “One cannot even see across the square. Oh, there is a hack drawing up. Who can that be?”