Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress (34 page)

“No, no. That is…yes, a little. Let us…oh! They are turning.” Indeed, the group ahead had paused, then begun strolling back toward them.

“Do you wish to go, Mother?” said Cairnyllan, preparing to guide her away.

“Yes…no…I…” They gazed at her in astonishment as she first flushed, then paled again.

“Lady Alicia,” said one of the women in the approaching group. “How pleasant to see you.”

Alicia acknowledged the greeting, and those of the others. When they waited politely for her to present her friends, she glanced at Lady Cairnyllan, who was staring at the gravel path, then at Cairnyllan, who gave her no help. With a small shrug, she made the introductions.

Sir Thomas's reaction was as marked as Lady Cairnyllan's had been. He started visibly, then stared until recalled by a sense of his rudeness. Fortunately, the chatter of the others covered this contretemps.

The two groups walked together toward the boxes. Alicia, very curious by this time, kept a watch on Lady Cairnyllan. At first, her eyes remained resolutely on the ground. But finally, she glanced up, found Sir Thomas gazing steadfastly at her, ducked her head again, then met his eyes. The look that passed between them then was significant. Alicia became convinced that Lady Cairnyllan was the one who had broken Sir Thomas's heart years ago. Amused, she said as much to Ian, her voice low.

“Nonsense,” he replied. “I have never heard anything so ridiculous.” But his expression as he watched his mother hesitate, take Sir Thomas's arm, and walk on with him was uneasy.

Alicia did not press him. But she found it difficult not to laugh. The picture of Lord Cairnyllan, flanked on one side by his vivacious sister, who was even now flirting with one of the young men in their party, and on the other by his mother, courted by an older swain, rose irresistibly in her mind.

What would he do if Lady Cairnyllan joined Marianne's camp? The prospect rather delighted Alicia. It would surely drive the overconfident earl to distraction, and perhaps teach him a salutary lesson about his domineering ways. He needed to be shown that his own fiats and opinions were not the last word on everything.

At the same time, however, despite her satisfaction, Alicia found herself feeling a little sorry for him. He seemed so stunned by his mother's defection. Indeed, he looked lost. But a sudden sound and burst of light put his dilemma out of her mind. “Fireworks,” she exclaimed. “They are starting the fireworks already. Let us find a place where we can see better.” And, without thinking, she took Cairnyllan's arm and practically dragged him to a special vantage point she knew. She didn't even notice the others drop behind.

An explosion of green opened above the trees, followed an instant later by a burst of blue. As they faded slowly, sparks drifting down, a red flowering, then a silver followed. The changing lights illuminated the tops of the trees and the upturned faces around them.

With each new burst, Alicia gave a soft sigh of gratification. She had loved fireworks since she was a tiny child, and she never seemed to get enough of them. They were one of the great attractions of Vauxhall for her.

As yet another multicolored spray of light expanded above, Alicia drew in her breath, and clapped her hands twice. Watching her, Cairnyllan was again mystified. This girl seemed to shift from one moment to the next. Not five minutes ago she had been the worldly London miss, calmly suggesting that his shy withdrawn mother had once broken hearts, and now she was acting like an excited child, absorbed in a show of fireworks and aware of nothing else. Enjoying the play of light along her throat and shoulders, Cairnyllan briefly gave up the attempt to understand anything. She was so beautiful, and tonight, at any rate, she had been so kind. He remembered holding her in his arms, and his jaw tightened. At that moment, he asked nothing more than to do so again.

“Oh, look!” cried Alicia. For the finale, there was a series of bursts, one after another: blue, red, silver, green, red. They spread with soft pops across the night sky, a new color opening before the last had faded. Sounds of appreciation could be heard from all sides.

When the last light had disappeared, Alicia relaxed and wrapped her arms around herself. “Weren't they splendid?”

He nodded. “You're fond of fireworks.”

“I adore them. I remember the first time I was taken to see an exhibition. I was two. Papa declares that I cannot possibly recall it, but I do.” Her pale blue eyes glowed. “After that, I begged to go at every opportunity. My parents grew quite weary of the subject, I assure you.”

He smiled. “I imagine they rather enjoyed your delight.” He pictured the small silver-haired child she must have been.

Startled by the warmth in his voice, she looked up at him. When their eyes met, a current of emotion passed between them. Alicia felt the same instant affinity she had when they met. She longed to step forward into his arms and feel again the excitement she had known there. But she knew what he would think of that. Alicia made herself say, “We seem to have lost the others. Shall we go back?” She kept her voice very cool, despite her feelings, and turned away too soon to see his hand come up and reach toward her. In the next moment, he had stifled this unacceptable impulse, and they walked to Mrs. Beaufort's box without touching.

Yet they remained more in charity with one another than they had been since Cairnyllan arrived in London. Each felt that the new things he was learning about the other made a difference.

The box was empty, but a selection of food and drink had been brought, and Alicia could see Lavinia and Mrs. Beaufort not far off. She sat down.

“Would you care for some of this ham?” asked Cairnyllan very politely.

“Thank you, yes,” she replied.

He had started to serve her when they both saw Marianne MacClain. She was out on the dance floor, laughing with her head thrown back and whirling in a waltz with a total stranger.

Cairnyllan's hand froze in midair, and his pleasant expression vanished. “Do you know that man?” he asked Alicia.

She did not pretend to misunderstand him. “No.” Reluctantly, she added, “He is not of the
haut ton
.”

“I can see that.” Throwing down the knife, he moved forward.

“Don't.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don't draw everyone's attention by dragging her back here. Wait until the set is finished, then speak to her.”

“You expect me to leave my sister with that—”

“He can't hurt her. They are in public view. If she should need you, you can easily…”

As they watched, Marianne threw back her head again and laughed gaily.

“Need me!” Cairnyllan's tone was bitter. “Not likely.”

He sounded so hurt and frustrated that Alicia could not help saying, “I'm sure she looks to you for many things, if not for such close chaperonage as you choose to give.”

“If Marianne thinks she can—”

“She only wishes to enjoy herself.”

He sneered. “I don't care for the
ton
's idea of enjoyment. And I shan't allow her to be corrupted by it.”

Watching Marianne flirt with her partner, who on closer scrutiny appeared to be a perfectly harmless young cit, Alicia almost laughed. “I wonder if it's not the other way about,” she replied.

“Do you dare to suggest…”

“Oh, take a damper, Lord Cairnyllan.”

He gaped at her.

“You are so certain you know everything. You are quite mistaken about the
ton
, you know. Oh, you have reason to be. I don't deny that. And of course there are still a few men, and women, like your father. But they decrease each year. We are not such a despicable set.” She smiled up at him.

He gazed at her face, wanting very much to believe her. He longed to forget his responsibilities, take her hand, and tell her he had been a fool to reject her at their first meeting in town. But he could not. “And what of Lord Devere?” he responded. “I suppose he is merely a charming philanthropist?”

Alicia's smile faded. Robert was a problem; she couldn't deny it. Again she felt that unaccustomed twinge of guilt over her part in that affair.

“And you brought them together,” he accused, his face gone hard.

“I regret it now,” she admitted reluctantly. It was hard to apologize, even this obliquely, to the man who had said so many harsh things to her. But it was only the truth. “I…I spoke to him, but…”

“About Marianne?” He looked shocked, and when she nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. “I will thank you to…”

“I was trying to
help
. And I am quite willing to do more to make amends.” She nodded to herself. “That's it. I'll help you separate them.”

“No, thank you.” He looked away. “I don't require—”

“Don't be stupid.”

He gaped at her again. Cairnyllan was by no means accustomed to such constant, and sharp, interruption.

“Are
you
having any success?” She indicated Marianne. “You are handling her all wrong.”

“I know my own sister!”

“Perhaps so. But you are not acting as if you did. You put her back up at every turn. You goad her into defiance. If you keep on the way you are going, you will most likely push her into some really imprudent rebellion.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. He had to admit the fairness of her statement.

“She might be more willing to listen to an outsider, one who has some standing in society. Who better to help you than I?”

He met her eyes. Did she mean that she knew all about such affairs? But again, her argument was valid.

“So?” finished Alicia.

“I should prefer—”

“…to be in Scotland. We all know that. But you are here and must make the best of it.” Alicia was feeling irritated. After all she was offering her help despite all he had done to her. She needn't have. The fault was not all her own; Marianne could have ignored Devere. Alicia rather thought Cairnyllan should jump at her offer rather than complain. Perhaps she would withdraw it.

“Very well,” said Cairnyllan grudgingly. “Thank you.” He did not look grateful.

Alicia nodded curtly. And they were equally relieved to see Lavinia and Mrs. Beaufort returning to the box, their tongues wagging at a great rate.

Alicia had decided to make an opportunity to talk with Marianne, but when she thought about it the following morning, she did not see how it could be managed without drawing attention. Alicia had never paid much heed to girls younger than herself; indeed, she had most often sought friends from among the older women. There was already gossip about Marianne, and if she suddenly took her up, it would be remarked. She would have to call at the house the MacClains had hired, she concluded, and if necessary, she would confide in Lady Cairnyllan.

Accordingly, she went there at an hour when most morning callers should be turning homeward again and she was likely to find the family alone. All three were, in fact, in the drawing room when she was ushered in, and Cairnyllan rose at once and made some excuse to take his mother away as soon as they had exchanged greetings. Marianne looked surprised, and Alicia frowned at this too-obvious maneuver, but she was also glad not to have to hint and put off the real purpose of her visit. The truth was, she realized, that she was a little reluctant to face Marianne. Though younger, the girl gave such an impression of maturity and assurance that Alicia doubted her own influence. And when they were seated facing one another, Marianne smiling and curious, Alicia did not know how to begin. “Are you enjoying London as much as you hoped?” she asked to break the silence.

“Oh yes. More. It is just as I pictured it.” Marianne's blue eyes sparkled. She was looking very lovely this morning, in a gown of blue kerseymere, the sun slanting through a window to fill her red hair with copper lights. She seemed much older than eighteen.

Alicia felt again that uncharacteristic uncertainty. She didn't know what to do about it, because she had never had to deal with such emotions before. It was unlike her to be uneasy in a social setting, and she could only attribute it to her intention of interfering in another's life. She had never done so before the last few weeks, and she was discovering that her former attitude was a true reflection of her character. But she had promised to try. As she looked up, the resemblance between Cairnyllan and his sister suddenly struck her.

“Did Ian ask you to talk to me?” said Marianne.

“What?” Alicia was so taken aback that she could not even formulate an answer.

“Well, you were talking to him last night, and you have not called on us before, so I thought it likely he asked you to speak to me.” Marianne smiled. “Although it does seem a bit indirect for Ian. He usually says what he thinks straight out.”

“I, er, I did think perhaps…”

“Ian worries too much.” Marianne seemed unconcerned by her guest's confusion. “He always has. I suppose that's only natural, but it does put my back up. I mean, why shouldn't I be as sensible as he? We grew up in the same household.”

Alicia had recovered from her surprise, and she found her curiosity about this very self-possessed young lady outweighing her mission. “I suppose he feels responsible for you,” she replied, abandoning any pretense of disinterestedness.

“Oh yes. And he is afraid I will turn out like our father, of course.” She smiled at Alicia's indrawn breath. “Well, I can't help knowing that, can I? I am not
stupid
. I might feel the same about him if he were not so stuffy.” She giggled. “He always has been, since we were children. You should have seen him sitting behind the great desk in the estate office, and listening to the bailiff's report when his feet didn't even reach the floor.”

Alicia couldn't help smiling at the vision. But there was something touching about it, too. “He is thinking of your happiness.”

Marianne considered. “I'm not sure. Ian would rather I be prudent than happy, I think.” She shrugged. “Look at the way he acts.”

Meeting her eyes, for one awful moment Alicia thought she knew about the incident at Perdon.

“He is actually enjoying himself quite well in town, but he will not admit it.” She grinned. “He has not mentioned going home to Scotland in more than a week, however.”

Once again, Alicia could not help but smile back, and she was beginning to wonder what she was doing here. Marianne appeared to understand her brother far better than he understood her. Indeed, she understood almost too much for a girl her age. Then Alicia remembered Devere. “What you say may be true,” she admitted. “But if your brother does not know London, others do.”

“Yes.
You
do.” Marianne looked squarely at her. “Did you wish to say something to me? For I cannot imagine Ian persuading you to come here in this way if you did not.”

“You are very perceptive.” How, she wondered, had the girl become so? She felt that odd uneasiness again. It was almost as if Marianne were the older, more experienced adviser and she the pupil.

“My childhood required it,” responded Marianne. “It was very confusing, never knowing whether there would be piles of money or none at all, or whether one's father would shout obscenities or lavish caresses upon one. The first time I saw my father, I didn't recognize him, you know. I was five years old, but he had not been home since I was two. That time, he shouted.” She had been gazing at the floor, but now she looked up quickly. “Why did I say
that
?”

The girls' eyes met, Marianne's anxious and uneasy, Alicia's full of sympathy. “I do not usually volunteer confidences,” added the younger girl. “In fact, I never do. But something about you…I don't know. It just came out.”

“I'm very flattered.” And she was, Alicia realized.

Marianne frowned, still concerned, but something she saw in Alicia's eyes seemed to reassure her. “
Did
you wish to speak to me?”

“Yes. I know it seems impertinent, but…”

“It doesn't, really.” She shrugged. “I don't know why, unless it is because I don't at all mind taking advice from people who know what they are talking about. Ian makes me so furious because he does
not
. He has been in Scotland miles away from everything just as I have. How can he know any more?”

This was so logical that Alicia ignored it. “I wanted to say something about Robert Devere.”

“Oh.” Marianne cocked her head. “He is very charming.”

“Yes. But he is not a fit companion for a young girl learning her way about society.”

“I thought he was a friend of yours?”

Why did the girl have to be so intelligent, Alicia wondered. She began to sympathize more with Ian. “He is a friend of my family, particularly one of my cousins,” she answered. “I have known him since I was a child.”

“And that makes a difference, I suppose.” Marianne pondered. “Yes, I can see how it would. All right, I will take more care.” She nodded once, decisively.

Alicia smiled. Marianne was very quick. “I'm sure you will find some of the younger men just as charming.”

“Oh, I don't intend to keep away from Lord Devere,” responded Marianne, as if that should be self-evident. “I shall simply be more on my guard with him. I did not realize that he had such a reputation. But I enjoy his company too much to give it up.”

“But…there has been gossip.” She was at a loss, and again felt younger than her years.

Marianne drew herself up, eyes flashing. “How odious people are! I thought they would be better here than at home.”

Alicia remembered the story of the duel, and her uneasiness deepened.

“Well, I shan't pay any attention to it.
I
know I have done nothing wrong. That must be enough.”

“But…gossip can do great harm.” Alicia was amazed at her position. How often had she said precisely the same thing as Marianne, yet now she was taking the opposite side.

Marianne was again thoughtful. “Yes, I see. I
do
wish to have a great success in town.” She frowned. “But I will not become like those tongue-tied, awkward schoolgirls who huddle together at Almack's and giggle behind their hands.”

“I don't think you could,” replied Alicia, who had felt something similar herself once. She was very different from Marianne, she thought, and yet somehow like her, too.

The younger girl laughed. “No. Well, I thank you very much for your advice, Lady Alicia. I will not forget it.”

Alicia felt that she should say more. Her purpose in coming was far from accomplished. But she could think of nothing. She rose.

Marianne did also. “It really was very good of you to come. Even if Ian urged you, I know you made up your own mind.” She hesitated, then added, “I—I wish we might be friends, Lady Alicia.”

Thinking back over their talk, Alicia found that their differences intrigued rather than put her off. “I hope we can,” she answered warmly, holding out her hand.

Marianne squeezed it with a brilliant smile.

“Come and see me one day.”

“I shall!”

With another exchange of smiles, Alicia took her leave. There was no sign of Cairnyllan, and she was glad of that. She felt happy, but she knew that if she had to report the results of her mission to him, he would spoil her buoyant mood. Thus, she hurried to her barouche and home, the smile lingering on her face.

The first person she encountered, in her front hall, was Roddy. He had been on the way out, but he turned back when she arrived. “There you are. I called to see if you would come driving in the park, and they told me you were out. Do you never stay home any more? This is the third time it has happened.”

“Perhaps you should issue your invitations beforehand.”

“I have! Twice. The first time you had forgotten, and the second you claimed to have the headache. I thought to catch you by surprise today.” He gazed at her reproachfully.

Alicia had been feeling annoyed, but meeting Roddy's eyes, she found her irritation turning to guilt. She had treated him rather badly.

“You are so changed lately that I hardly know how to act,” he added.

This decided her. She did not want to add to the gossip about her “strangeness.” “Let me just speak to Lavinia, and we can go out.”

“Truly?” Roddy smiled. “Splendid. I have my phaeton.”

As she walked upstairs, Alicia again felt a twinge of guilt. She and Roddy had been friends for so long, and he had been so attentive to her wishes, that she often took his services for granted. Her recent experiences had given her a new sensitivity, however, and she decided that she must discourage Roddy from dangling after her any longer. It was little more than a game for her, and she had never before wondered whether Roddy felt the same. Now, she did, and determined to put an end to it.

When she had told Lavinia where she was going and adjusted her hat before the drawing room mirror, Alicia went back downstairs and was handed into Roddy's high-perch phaeton. He caught the thong of his whip jauntily as they set off for the park, and grained at her in high spirits. “What have you been doing with yourself, Alicia? You never used to be so difficult to track down.”

She shrugged. “I was making calls.”

“Really? I thought you simply sat home and waited for us to come and worship at your feet.” He grinned again, but Alicia did not smile. What a picture he presented. Seeing that she was not amused, he shifted his ground. “Have you heard the latest about Jane's and Willie's wedding? Her mother is insisting that it be put off three months, until some cousins or other return from abroad. Willie's in a fine temper, I can tell you. Last night at White's, he put his fist through a fellow's hat. Crusty old boy from the country, wouldn't you know. It was dashed awkward.”

Alicia laughed. “Poor Willie. I must go and see Jane.”

“
She
does nothing but cry, he says.”

“I doubt it. And I doubt that the wedding will be put off. Have you never seen Jane managing her father?”

Roddy considered. “Well, but it's her mother cutting up rough.”

“She will listen to Mr. Sheridan, once he declares himself. No, I wager the date will remain fixed.”

“How much?” responded Roddy eagerly.

“What?”

He flushed a little. “Beg pardon. Forgot myself. We were all laying bets at the club last night, and I…”

Alicia laughed again. “Despicable. Is there nothing you will not bet on, Roddy? One week it is a race between a goose and a pigeon, the next a friend's wedding day. You are all mad on the subject.” Suddenly remembering her own involvement with gambling, she flushed and fell silent. But Roddy merely grinned and shrugged, using the turn into the park as an excuse to avoid answering.

They drove along the Row in silence for a while. “Not many people out as yet,” commented Alicia.

“I
tried
to take you at the fashionable hour. Twice.”

“It is nicer now. Less crowded.” Alicia was a bit apologetic. She gazed at the riders and strollers on either side of them. Her glance passed over a couple on the right, then swung back to survey them more closely. “Look there. Isn't that Lady Cairnyllan with Sir Thomas Bentham?”

Roddy looked. “Yes. You've heard that story, of course?”

“About the two of them?” He nodded, and she smiled. “I knew it. She broke his heart years ago, didn't she?”

“On the contrary. He broke hers.”

“What?”

“You mean you really haven't heard? You always know all the gossip.”

“Tell me,” commanded Alicia.

“Well, I had it from Oswald, who got it from his great-aunt, so I don't vouch for—”

“Roddy!”

“Yes, very well. It seems that Sir Thomas was Lady Cairnyllan's chief suitor. Before she married, I mean. Forget her name then. Everyone was expecting an announcement in the
Morning Post
when he suddenly joined up and went off to the war in America. Some talk of adventure and seeing the world before he settled down, they say. A few weeks later, Lady Cairnyllan—or whatever her name was—became engaged to Cairnyllan. They were married and in Scotland—she was anyway—before Sir Thomas returned. They never met again.”