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Authors: Joan Smith

Tags: #Regency Romance

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BOOK: Moon Love
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“We’ve met them now. I’ll talk to them. There is no reason you need associate with such riffraff.”

She just shook her head. “I, too, have endured worse for king and country.” She turned and gave Jermyn a smile over her shoulder. “Here he comes now,” she whispered. “You had best dart back to the Harpers.”

She noticed from the corner of her eye that it was to Miss Spencer, not Miss Harper, than he darted. It annoyed her, but she had more important things to consider. She smiled demurely at Mr. Jermyn.

“I believe you are a newcomer to Easton, Mr. Jermyn,” she said. “Are you just visiting, or dare we hope you are moving to town?”

He threw out his chest and said importantly, “I make my home in Lunnon. Just here on business. “

“How interesting! What is your line of business?”

“Me and my friends are thinking of opening up a boys’ school for gents. Something really top o’ the trees.”

“How interesting. Then you will be staying in town?”

“Lord lumme, I’m not a school master! Not I! It’s just an investment for me.” He gave a leering grin. “Mind you, I might stay if I find something that strikes my fancy. Would you care to stand up and jig it with me, Miss Bratty’?”

Amy felt she could do a better job of quizzing him without the interruption of music and dancing. She had already noticed he wore a watch chain, and meant to find an excuse for him to draw out that watch before she left him. As a wall clock twelve inches in diameter hung on the wall of the dancing room, she said, “I should like it of all things, but could you be a dear and take me for a glass of punch first? My poor throat is parched.”

He held out his elbow, she put her fingers on it, and they were off. Mr. Saxton and Miss Emry were not a step behind them. Miss Emry was a companion to Lady Bridget Healey, a local spinster. They stood in a group, talking. Amy soon realized Mr. Saxton was the more clever of the two men.

He sidled up to Amy and said, “That gentleman you were with, Miss Bratty, I hear he is looking for a house to buy.”

“Yes, Mr. Stanford has a yacht. He wants a place on or near the water for convenience. Do you know of one?”

“Not I. He must have deep pockets;”

“Yes, I expect he must.”

“You knew him before he came here?”

It was possible he had seen them together, or heard gossip about Ravencroft’s visit to Bratty Hall. She said, “He was acquainted with my cousin, Mr. Bratty, in London. He has called on us a few times.”

“Where is he from?”

She leaned a little closer and said in a confidential voice, “He has a huge estate in Devon, but he spends a deal of time in London, I believe. Very eligible!”

Mr. Saxton seemed satisfied with this explanation. He had only one more question. “Is he some kin to those old biddies he came here with tonight?”

She frowned, as if considering it. “He didn’t say so. I expect they are friends of the family. And are you, like Mr. Jermyn, here on business, Mr. Saxton?” From the corner of her eye, she saw Ravencroft loitering outside the doorway, watching her.

“That’s right, we’re looking into various business ventures. These things take time – and money if we go for a school.”

“It must be very expensive.”

“Aye, it is,” he said, and didn’t offer one single detail, but just turned back to Miss Emry, at which point Ravencroft came into the parlor. He took a glass of wine and sauntered to the far side of the room.

Amy felt she had been away from the clock long enough to inquire about the time. She had not worn her watch and saw Miss Emry was not wearing one either. She said to her in a loudish voice, “Do you happen to know the time, Miss Emry? I am ravenous. I expect it is hours until supper.”

“I didn’t wear my time piece,” Miss Emry said, looking to Mr. Saxton.

It was Mr. Jermyn, standing beside Amy, who obliged her with the answer. He drew out a gold pocket watch with a flourish, obviously proud of it, flipped the lid and said, “Why it is only half after ten, Miss Bratty. You will have a long wait for supper.” The watch looked like Mr. Bransom’s, but she could not be certain.

“I can’t believe it!” she said, reaching playfully for the watch to look for herself. Mr. Jermyn snatched at the excuse to squeeze her fingers. “I made sure it was near midnight.” She looked, laughed, and said, “You are right!” Then she closed the lid. Before giving it back to him, she glanced at the top, where the initials JRB were entwined. It was Mr. Bransom’s watch. She couldn’t turn it over to see the inscription on the back without causing suspicion, but the top was enough.

“Supper will be worth waiting for,” Miss Emry said. “They serve the loveliest sweets.”

“I hope they serve petits fours,” Amy said. The ladies chatted on about other treats. Amy didn’t think she had aroused any suspicion by looking at Jermyn’s watch. Even Mr. Saxton’s clever face wore a tolerant smile at their inane chatter.

She had to stand up with Mr. Jermyn for the quadrille, but got nothing more out of him. She was on pins to report to Ravencroft, but after Saxton’s questions she didn’t like to display any particular interest in him. She danced with other friends until supper was served, at which time she felt Felix’s friendship with Ravencroft would lend an air of innocence to their dining together.

When she looked around for Felix, she found him in a corner talking to Ford. When Felix saw her, he came and joined her.

“I didn’t realize you knew Mr. Ford,” she said.

“Everyone knows Ford,” he replied. This suggested to her that Felix was betting on some horse race. This, however, wasn’t the time to chide him for that.

“Ask Mr. Stanford to sit with us, Felix,” she said, as the dancers began to move toward the door. “The Harpers are sitting with all the older folks. He will be out of place there.”

Felix looked around the room. “He is with Miss Spencer. I’ll ask them to join us.”

Miss Spencer was not tardy to join the table where the two most eligible bachelors in the room were to sit. She maneuvered herself into a seat between them and shared her attention equally between the two. When she was occupied with Felix, Ravencroft turned to Amy. His scowl told her he was unhappy with her.

“Well, what is the verdict on the watch? I want to compliment you on your acting abilities, Miss Bratty,” he said reluctantly. “You had the pair eating out of your hand.”

“It is Bransom’s watch,” she said, with a smile intended to show anyone watching that their conversation was purely social. She went on to tell him about their pretending to be here in town looking for an investment opportunity.

“They didn’t mention the horse race?”

“No, have you arranged it already?”

“Tentatively. I have many friends in the racing community. Horse racing is the one extravagance I allow myself. The race is to take place tomorrow at five in Canterbury. As time doesn’t permit advertising, it can only be a private race, but I have put up notices at the inns to set the rumor afoot. I’ll mention it to the gents.”

Her objection was loud and clear. “No!”

Miss Spencer turned to stare at Amy’s peremptory voice. She gave Ravencroft an arch smile, “Are you misbehaving, Mr. Stanford?” she asked. “Miss Bratty sounds angry with you.”

“I am trying to lure her into giving me another set. She tells me it would be ineligible to stand up with the same gent twice.”

“Quite right,” Miss Spencer agreed, and turned back to Felix, to try to tempt him into a second set with her.

Ravencroft looked a question at Amy. “They’re suspicious of you,” she said. “They were asking all sorts of questions.”

“What did you say?”

“I confirmed the story you are using about wanting a haven for your yacht. They asked if I had known you before.”

“They’ve seen us together.”

“Yes, they are a little suspicious of you, but they have no reason to suspect I am interested in their doings.”

“I was right the first time. I should be posing as your suitor,” he said, and used it as an excuse to take her hand and hold it in a warm grip.

“And cast me in the enviable role of not being able to bring you up to scratch when you leave?” she asked, withdrawing her fingers with a cool smile.

“Why no, ma’am. In the enviable role of having turned off the eligible Mr. Stanford. You said you wanted to be a flirt.”

“But that wouldn’t be real flirting. That would be role playing.”

He studied her face, his gaze lingering long on her eyes, before falling to her lips. When he spoke, his voice had taken on a husky tone. “I have a deal to teach you about flirting, Miss Bratty. You would be astonished what guises it can take. Playing the role of flirt for the public doesn’t prevent playing it in private for the benefit of one.”

“It all sounds very confusing,” she said dismissingly. “About the race, the rumor had best come from Felix. I noticed he has struck up an acquaintance with Ford. No one could suspect him of any double dealing. Have you told Felix?”

Raven scowled at her change of subject. He was not accustomed to have his overtures at flirtation dismissed out of hand. “Not yet, but I will. I’ll tell him as soon as supper is over.”

“The race is at five tomorrow?”

“Races. They’re scheduled for five. My friends will see they don’t start any earlier. They’ll last an hour. Then Ford and his friends will be invited to dine with my friends, who will pour the wine freely. Throw in the trip home and I doubt they’ll be back before midnight.”

“What time shall we meet, and where?”

“The abandoned house, around ten. It will be dark and quiet in the neighborhood by then.”

“I’ll be there. “

“In your usual soigné rags?” he asked, smiling to let her know he had no objection.

“Of course. “

“Good. Bring George. I don’t want you out alone.” This proprietarily speech deserved a setdown, but didn’t get one. Amy felt insensibly flattered by it. “And Amy,” he continued, “ride your own mount. If we’re followed, that old jade you rode to the coal yard won’t save you.”

This last admonition did earn him a sharp retort. “You need not speak to me as if I were an idiot.”

It was Miss Spencer’s turn to enjoy Ravencroft’s company. As soon as supper was over, Amy said to Felix, “I would like to leave early, Felix. I am worried about Papa.”

“But the party has two hours to run.”

“I’ll go alone then, and send the rig back for you.”

“Very well,” he agreed, but with an air of injury.

When Amy noticed Ravencroft was listening, she felt he might offer to drive her home. He just turned and left, however. Felix went with her to get her wrap. When he brought it to her, he was accompanied by Ravencroft and the Harpers.

“I am taking the Harpers home,” Ravencroft said. “Let me give you a lift while I am about it, Miss Bratty. No need to have both teams put to.”

“Excellent, Stanford. Excellent,” Felix said, slapping him on the back. “I was worried to
see my cousin go home alone.”

Amy turned a hard face on him. “But not worried enough to escort me,” she said curtly, and took Ravencroft’s arm. With Miss Harper on his other arm and Miss Amelia holding on to her sister, the four left.

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

The Misses Harper chatted a blue streak until they were let down from the carriage, with many thanks and reminders to come to tea soon. When Ravencroft returned from seeing them to their door, his first words were, “You cannot seriously be thinking of marrying Bratty.”

“I don’t know what I think,” Amy said, and leaned back against the squabs with a sigh. She was grateful for the concealing darkness of the carriage.

“You aren’t penniless. You said your cousin only wants to marry you for your dowry. If you have decided to marry, why don’t you make your curtsey at St. James’s in the normal way?”

“At my age!“ she exclaimed. “My joints would creak if I bent my knees in a curtsey. Good grief, I would be the laughing stock of the town.”

“You are hardly an antique. Even if you are a few years older than the debs, a lady with a good dowry is never a laughing stock.”

“No, she is a piece of merchandise on the Marriage Mart, to be scrutinized under a microscope to see if she is worthy of handing her fortune over to some penniless blue
-
blooded nitwit like Felix. Better the devil you know. At least I could go on living at the Hall.”

His voice, when he replied, assumed that tone of outrage masked by reason often heard issuing from overwrought parents. “I cannot understand how a brave, venturesome lady like yourself can settle for so little.”

“I am willing to take on a small group of criminals. The whole of society is another matter,” she said reasonably, “And the prize, you know, is hardly worth the trouble. A gentleman who admires you for a month, tolerates you for a year, and thereafter returns to his old way of life, while you rusticate in the country, raising his family. With Felix, I would get down to the serious business right away.”

He listened with frowning interest, then said, “I repeat, I cannot understand how a lady like yourself is willing to settle for so little. “

“What is the alternative?” she scoffed. “Becoming a pitiable spinster like the Harpers?”

“Not all gentlemen
are like Felix.”

“No, some are a deal worse,” she replied, and immediately changed the subject. “I believe Jermyn’s having Bransom’s watch removes any doubt that Ford and his friends are the culprits. How can we find out if they mean to attend the races?”

“Anyone interested will be discussing it at the taverns tomorrow. I’ll keep my ears open, and have my servants do the same. Glover, my groom, has large ears.” Then he leaned across the space separating their banquettes, reached for her hands, and added in a different tone, “But not even Glover’s big ears would have heard a whisper of a reason why you are considering marrying your cousin. Of course he is marvelously handsome. Is there at least a physical attraction between you? That essential spark that does seem to occur between the unlikeliest people, and overcomes everything else?”

Amy was surprised, both at the unexpected familiarity of the question, and at his holding her hands – not just in a loose, friendly grip either, but in a proprietary squeeze. If they had been in a lit room, she would have pokered up and withdrawn her hands. The confined darkness of the carriage that concealed his face lent the interlude an air of anonymous intimacy. “There was something, initially,” she confessed. “The first time I saw him, I thought him quite a Prince Charming.”

BOOK: Moon Love
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ads

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