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Authors: Moonlightand Mischief

Rhonda Woodward (13 page)

BOOK: Rhonda Woodward
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Watching the earl lead the way out of the music room, Mariah and Lady Walgrave trailed a little behind the other chattering guests as they walked down the candlelit hallway.

“Miss Thorncroft, I desire a private word with you.”

Turning to Lady Walgrave with surprise, Mariah saw the older woman gesture to the open door of a small withdrawing room adjacent the salon. Though Mariah was hesitant, sheer politeness forced her to follow.

Lady Walgrave moved to a pair of chairs by the fireplace and indicated with a graceful gesture that Mariah should be seated. Silently, Mariah sat down in the opposite wing chair.

“Yes, my lady?” Mariah gazed at the other woman curiously. Her golden gown revealed an elegant expanse of bosom, and her hair surrounded her face in a riot of pale gold ringlets. Mariah thought her face would seem rather angelic if not for the coldness in her sparkling blue eyes.

Lady Walgrave folded her hands on her lap, and a sweet smile curved her lips. “There is no use in pretending that you did not see Stone and me together the other night. I would like you to know that we do appreciate that you have been such a good girl and have not made any mischief for us.”

Feeling as if the wind had been knocked from her chest, Mariah could say nothing. Had it really been only the other night that she stumbled across the earl and Lady Walgrave embracing in the garden? It seemed impossible, for a lifetime of events and emotions had occurred since then.

Lady Walgrave did not seem to notice her silence and continued in the same calm, kindly tone. “These situations are complicated and I am sure much too sophisticated for someone”—she paused as if searching for the right word—“well, someone from Chippenham to comprehend. But because of my friendship with Stone, I am very sensitive to everything that affects his happiness.”

Clearing her throat, she fixed her narrowed gaze on Mariah and continued. “I believe it would be best to speak plainly. I have seen the way you look at him. I sincerely caution you to spare yourself the humiliation of hoping he could ever notice you. You and your family may have a high opinion of yourselves because of your wealth, but that has no significance in our circles. After all, no one knows who you are, where your people come from, or your history.”

Mariah felt her jaw drop. Lady Walgrave’s words, though spoken in a kindly and calm voice, were the most insulting Mariah had ever heard. With her spine as straight as a ramrod, she felt a hot, humiliated flush rising up her neck and into her cheeks.
I have seen the way you look at him
. Despite her efforts, could she have been so utterly obvious? Mariah wondered as her mortification intensified. She loathed the thought of Lady Walgrave finding her behavior so transparent.

Lady Walgrave, her expression haughty despite the lingering smile, continued. “I intend no offense, of course. I just thought to save you from any more embarrassment.”

Swallowing hard, Mariah forced herself to speak clearly. “You have made yourself extremely clear, my lady.”

“Good.” Lady Walgrave nodded approvingly. “I do not mind telling you that all of Stone’s friends have been wondering what he could have been thinking in inviting you and your family here. You must admit it has been rather awkward. But I feel better now that we have had this chat.”

She feels better!
Mariah felt her mortification fade, and her anger began to seethe. Lifting her chin, she leveled her glinting gaze at the other woman.

“I am so glad you feel better, Lady Walgrave,” she said, her tone icy with sarcasm. “You are correct on one point. My family does not have an illustrious name. But
we
at least have manners.”

Gasping, the lady drew her light brown brows together in anger. “Such impudence! What do people like you know of manners? You only mimic your betters without any real understanding of how to conduct yourselves among Society. Make no mistake, you insolent chit, Stone shall hear of your impertinence. I should not have bothered to stoop to help you.” She rose, twitching the skirt of her golden gown into place, and said in the tone of a queen carrying out a judgment, “I had intended to recognize you if we met again during the Season, but now I shall not.”

Mariah remained seated, gripping the arms of the chair tightly. “Thank you.”

Looming over Mariah with a look of wrath in her eyes, Lady Walgrave said, “Oh! You insolent mushroom. I shall not address you again.”

Knowing that she could easily say something even more vexing, Mariah forced herself to stay silent.

Lady Walgrave swept out of the room and shut the door behind her sharply. Mariah, her heart-shaped face frozen in a look of forced composure and her hands still gripping the chair arms, remained by the fireplace for quite some time.

Chapter Twelve

After a dreadful night, full of fitful dreams of the earl and Lady Walgrave, Mariah awakened to a clear, bright morning with a bereft feeling weighing heavily upon her heart.

Harris had brought in her breakfast tray some time ago, but Mariah had not touched the food. Pushing her long braid off her shoulder, she turned over onto her side and again tried to drive Lady Walgrave’s ugly words from her mind. At that moment, she saw a letter on the breakfast tray nestled between a delicate porcelain chocolate cup and the toast caddy. At the sight of the familiar handwriting on the front, Mariah pushed herself up onto her elbow and reached for the missive. After scanning the seal on the back, a smile came to her lips. The letter was from her friend Julia, the Duchess of Kelbourne. With a feeling of utter relief at having an excuse not to go downstairs, Mariah decided that she would dress quickly and go into the sitting room next to her mother’s bedchamber to read the long missive. After tossing and turning most of the night, she longed for a distraction from her own befuddled thoughts.

A short time later, upon entering the pretty room, she was relieved to find it unoccupied. She had just settled into the comfortable sofa and unfolded the pages of the letter when Steven walked in.

“Here you are. Did you already have your breakfast?”

Mariah looked up from her letter and smiled at her brother. She thought he looked quite handsome in his brown cutaway coat that nearly matched his smiling hazel eyes. For an instant she was tempted to share the details of the ugly confrontation with Lady Walgrave last night, but she dismissed the urge quickly. It would only hurt him and probably make him defensive among his new friends.

“Good morning. Yes, I had breakfast in my room. I have just received a lovely long letter from Julia and am about to devour it.”

“I shall not disturb you. I see that the weekly village paper has been left on the table over there. I shall peruse it while you enjoy the news from Kelbourne Keep.”

“All right,” Mariah said, sending him another smile before returning her attention to the letter. Steven settled in a wing chair across from her and picked up the newspaper. Mariah had just read past Julia’s salutation when Steven spoke again.

“Is Lady Davinia not lovely?” he asked in a casual tone.

Mariah lifted her gaze to his. “Very lovely.”

Setting aside the paper, Steven arose and walked to gaze pensively out of the bow window. “Such elegant yet easy manners,” he added.

“Indeed.” She was beginning to wonder where his observations were leading.

He turned from the window and looked at her with a serious expression. “And she is good-humored without being sharp or acerbic.”

At his earnest tone, Mariah had a little difficulty suppressing a smile. “A true paragon.”

“Yes, and a diamond of the first water. I have never met such an elegant and accomplished young lady in my life.” His tone remained serious as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Mariah could no longer contain her gentle laughter. “Oh, Steven, I believe you are a fair way to becoming completely smitten.”

He sent her a frown and began to pace the room. “Not a bit of it. Cannot a man admire an exceptional young lady without having everyone think that he is ready for the parson’s mousetrap?”

Shaking her head, she laid Julia’s letter aside. “You do not fool me.”

Steven threw up his hands in an impatient gesture. “It does not signify if I fool you or not, Mariah. I know very well that someone like Lady Davinia would never look at someone like me. It only highlights her excellent breeding that she has been kind to me these last few days.”

The uncharacteristically defeated tone in her brother’s voice tugged at her heart. A feeling of protective concern surged through her as she shook her head in disagreement. “Do not sell yourself so cheaply, Steven. I do think Lady Davinia is an exceptional young lady, and she cannot help but see your innumerable fine qualities.”

Steven continued to pace. “She is a member of the aristocracy. She is related to some of the most illustrious families in the country. Her father would never even consider the suit of a son of a woolen mill owner.” A bitter note had crept into his voice.

“You do not know that for sure,” Mariah said firmly.

Steven laughed without humor. “Give over, Mariah. You know as well as I do that we will always be considered parvenus. If we were not rich and if you were not friends with the Duchess of Kelbourne, no one would give us any notice. I received an invitation from the earl only because I was just foxed enough to be bold and he was in an odd humor. But to the beau monde we will always be inferior.”

Her brother sounded as hopeless as she felt, Mariah thought as Lady Walgrave’s stinging words replayed in her mind. She could think of no argument to rebut Steven’s statement. Unfortunately, they both knew this was the way their world worked.

Despite her desire to leave Heaton, she wanted to say something to rally his spirits. “That may be, but we ar
e
here, and we’d might as well behave as if we belong. Truly, who says we do not? You have nothing to be ashamed of, and I think Lady Davinia would be an exceedingly lucky girl to have you.”

Before Steven could reply, the door opened and Mama walked in, looking rested and happy in a morning gown of ochre serge. “Here you are. Why are you not in the salon with the rest of the guests? I do not wish the others to think you are unsociable.”

“We are hoping that absence will make the heart grow fonder,” Mariah replied, tossing her brother an impish smile. He smiled back with a look that told her they would resume this conversation later.

“I suppose it’s just as well to be here,” Mama sniffed, moving to join Mariah on the sofa. “Lord Mattonly, though an interesting gentleman, can be a veritable chatterbox.”

Steven took his seat again and sent Mariah a conspiratorial smile before responding to their mother.

“Lord Mattonly’s attention toward you is beginning to cause whispers, Mama.”

The look of astonishment Mrs. Thorncroft sent her son caused both her children to fight back their mirth. “What nonsense are you speaking, silly boy?”

“He’s right,” Mariah said quickly, following Steven’s lead. “If you are not careful, you will find yourself saddled with a cicisbeo. I certainly hope Papa does not get wind of this.” She fought to keep her features composed.

“Someday your wretched sense of humor will get you into trouble, my dear girl. I just hope I am there to witness your comeuppance.”

Mariah smiled across to Steven, for her mother did not sound truly angry.

“You cannot deny that Lord Mattonly behaves like a mooncalf whenever you are near,” Steven said, evidently unable to leave well enough alone.

Mama dismissed the notion with a wave of her hand. “Tosh! I am twenty years older than he, if I am a day.”

“It is common gossip that the Regent fancies mature ladies,” Steven continued. “Maybe Lord Mattonly is just following the fashion.”

Mama was beginning to look a touch vexed. “I will not listen to another word of your nonsense. I will change this ridiculous subject by asking if either of you has seen George in the last hour.”

“Yes, he headed to the stables about then. Evidently he has made fast friends with the head groom,” Steven offered.

Mrs. Thorncroft’s brow cleared. “Well, I suppose he cannot get into much mischief there. I hope he tires himself out before bedtime.”

“Why don’t we bundle up and take a turn around the grounds?” Steven suggested. “At dinner your new beau will admire the roses in your cheeks.”

“You are as incorrigible as your sister. I have no desire to go out in this weather, but do not allow that to stop you if you wish to walk.”

“I am not averse to a stroll in the garden,” Mariah said to Steven. Refolding her letter, she decided to save it for later. “Shall I meet you downstairs in ten minutes?”

***

Half an hour later, Mariah and Steven reached the edge of the formal garden, then took another path that led to a charming arbor Mariah had discovered on a previous walk. They had exhausted the topic of Steven’s admiration for the seemingly unattainable Lady Davinia. Mariah’s best efforts to encourage him met with little success. She shook her head at how he seemed to concede the race for her hand before it had truly begun.

“Enough of me, Mariah. Though I appreciate your support and encouragement, we shall not solve my dilemma today.”

“I suppose not,” Mariah agreed, stuffing her cold hands deeper into her otter-skin muff.

“Speaking of admirers,” Steven began, his tone changing dramatically, “you certainly are leading a couple of gentlemen on a merry chase.”

Sensing the beginnings of a tease, Mariah sent him a mock scathing look. “Just because I have danced with Mr. Elbridge and Lord Stothart does not mean I am leading them anywhere, or that they would follow if I did.”

“I am not numbering Mr. Elbridge among your admirers—he never talks of anything but his dogs. No, our host is the other gentleman I am speaking of.”

Reaching the arbor of birch trees and witch hazel hedges, they both sat on the wide stone bench. Mariah turned to look at her brother in wide-eyed surprise. “What are you speaking of?”

Steven flicked some dust off his Hessian boots before sending Mariah a pointed look. “Oh please, Mariah. False innocence does you no credit. It has not escaped anyone’s notice that you and the earl seem to have developed an instant . . . er . . . camaraderie, shall we say.”

Mariah bit her lip. Lady Walgrave’s words came back to echo Steven’s—
I have seen the way you look at him.
Mariah sputtered a few false starts before she felt capable of responding to her brother’s alarming assertion. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!”

Ignoring her protest, Steven continued. “I am surprised that Mama is not panting over the fact that the earl singled you out during the dancing for a tête-à-tête on the other side of the room. And if she could have seen the two of you in the gallery the other day she would be ready to have the banns read.”

Even though Steven’s tone was light and teasing, his words sent a frisson of alarm up her spine. If Mama knew what had occurred in the library yesterday— The thought was too mortifying to complete!

“Mama believes the earl and Lady Charlotte have an understanding. Besides, the earl and I have discussed only the most mundane subjects.” She felt the instant flush come to her cheeks at the lie. Kissing the earl, albeit for only the briefest of moments, could not be considered mundane by any stretch of the imagination.

“It’s not the words. It’s the expressions on your faces that have caused so much comment.”

Truly shaken, Mariah jumped up from the bench and began to pace along the graveled path in front of her brother. “What a packet of nonsensical twaddle! I cannot believe you have given it any heed,” she retorted sharply.

Steven looked doubtful. “Is it nonsensical? You cannot deny that Stone has rather singled you out. You should be beyond pleased. He is of the first consequence and a dashed handsome devil.”

Mariah looked at her brother in horrified shock. The other guests had actually discussed her and the earl! How mortifying. It would be the height of folly to allow such gossip to continue. If Mama heard, she might reverse her decision to set aside her hope for the earl as a prospective son-in-law—and begin her heavy-handed matchmaking schemes all over again.

“I do not care!” With mounting agitation she threw down her muff on the bench next to Steven and continued to pace. “The earl may be handsome and charming, but there is nothing to recommend him to any self-respecting young woman. I would be in constant fear of having to sell the silver to cover his gambling debts. And who would wish to live with the possibility of stumbling over his latest mistress around every corner? I could never entrust my heart to such an unabashed, unmitigated rakehell.”

Steven, looking up at her from the bench, held up his hands in surrender. “Goodness, Mariah, don’t get into such a pet. I was just teasing you about the gossip circulating among the guests. You’ve certainly lost your sense of humor since coming to Heaton.”

She continued to pace. “Well, I can do without that kind of gossip.” The words came out more waspishly than she intended.

Steven rose from the bench. “It’s getting colder. Are you coming back with me or are you staying here, Miss Grumpy?”

With her anger abruptly spent, she smiled sheepishly up at her brother. “I shall stay out for a while. Mayhap the bracing weather will improve my mood,” she said by way of apology for her prickly tone.

“I hope so,” he said, grinning. “I will see you at dinner.”

She watched her brother stride off, confusion furrowing her brow. Telling herself Steven must have been exaggerating, she felt her alarm begin to subside. After all, one or two conversations with the earl could not really have everyone speculating about them. Could it?

Deciding to walk down to the lake, she picked up her muff and left the bench. She rounded the end of the hedge—and ran straight into something solid.

Staggering back in surprise, she looked up into a pair of ice-cold blue eyes. The earl stood before her in a heavy black overcoat, hatless, with feet braced slightly apart.

Swallowing hard, she glanced back to the hedge and then to the bench she had just left. A cold wave of shock washed over her as she realized that he must have overheard her scathing comments about him to Steven. Her distraught gaze flew back to his.

They stared at each other for an immeasurable length of time, his grim expression and pale gaze chilling her to the heart. Every harsh insult she had just uttered against him repeated itself in her mind as mortification washed over her in waves. She groped in vain for something to say.

Finally, when she could no longer stand the tension vibrating between them, he sent her a smile as bitter as the look in his eyes. “I assure you, Miss Thorncroft, your vehemence is completely unwarranted.”

He then performed a courtly bow and stalked off, leaving her staring after him with a veil of tears shimmering in her eyes.

BOOK: Rhonda Woodward
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