The Houseparty (20 page)

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Authors: Anne Stuart

Tags: #Romance, #Romance: Regency, #Romance - Regency, #Fiction, #Regency, #Nonfiction, #General, #Non-Classifiable

BOOK: The Houseparty
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Absurd, she told herself sternly, shutting his door quietly behind herself and moving on silent feet into the room.

There was no book of sermons on the bedside table or anywhere in sight. All the drawers were empty, and she was halfway through the meager but elegant contents of the wardrobe when a noise directly behind her made her whirl around.

"Would it be impolite to inquire
exacdy
what you are doing?" Fraser's deep, slow voice was amiable. "Not that I'm not enchanted to have you seek out my bedroom, but in the circumstances I could have wished you'd picked a better time for it."

Elizabeth's tawny skin turned pale and then deep red as she faced the room's inhabitant. He had obviously just stepped out of the bath, for he stood there clad in nothing but a towel knotted around his trim waist, his dark hair dripping onto his shoulders, his broad, tanned chest glistening with drops of water.

Elizabeth stared at that chest in fascination. The only other male chests she had seen unclothed were her brothers' when they were much, much younger, and without question Michael Fraser's made an admirable contrast.

"Well?" he questioned, as the silence lengthened. "Are you going to tell me why you're here? Not, I presume, to accost me in my bath."

"Lady Elfreda asked me to retrieve a book of sermons she lent you," Elizabeth stammered after a long moment.

Fraser's snort was derisive as he took a step closer. "Surely you can think of a better excuse than that! I'm not a complete flat, you know. Doubtless you thought I'd be out and abroad at this hour and decided to ignore all my previous warnings and scrabble through my clothes in search of heaven knows what. It's not here, you know."

All amiability was gone, and his voice was icy. The dark blue eyes that had been so lazily flattering a few hours earlier were now furious as they bored into her. Instinctively Elizabeth quailed before such unbridled anger, taking an involuntary step backward and nearly falling into the closet.

"It would serve you right," he continued in a dangerous voice, "if I told you exactly what was going on here. You don't seem to have any notion of how dangerous this entire situation is, or if you do, you simply don't care. That could have been you clubbed on the head this morning, instead of
Brenna.
You're not only risking your own life with your insatiable snooping, but you're also endangering me, your hosts, your family, and the security of this nation."

"Well!" Elizabeth said weakly. "You certainly don't try to minimize the situation."

"I ought to lock you in that closet," he said between clenched teeth, "and not let you out till Monday morning. Then perhaps you might learn some sense."

"My brother would be bound to miss me," she replied. "He's got a sermon all planned for his unsuspecting fellow
guests, and if I'm not sitting there to frown at him, he'll go on for at least three hours."

Fraser
stared at her for a long moment, and she met his gaze bravely, her face still pink from embarrassment. If only he were fully dressed. It was amazingly difficult to keep her gaze from wandering downward to his broad, bare chest. And the long, bare legs weren't bad, either.

After a moment he sighed. "I wonder what in the world I should do with you, Lizzie."

"Why, nothing at all," she replied brightly. "And now I'm late for chapel, and so are you. Lady Elfreda will be waiting for me." She sidled nervously toward the door.

Fraser
let out a shout of laughter. "You needn't look so panicky, Lizzie. I am not about to throw you down on the bed and ravish you. The thought of your brother's disapproving sermon quite unmans me."

"I wasn't worried," she said with chilly dignity.

"Though if!
thought
it would keep you out of trouble, I'd be tempted."

Elizabeth's hot temper flared. "Of course that would be the only reason why you could possibly want to," she shot back. "Well, don't worry, Captain. You won't be forced into seducing such a veritable antidote. After all, you've sacrificed so much for your country already." She stormed toward the door, with
Fraser
just behind her.

"Lizzie," he said, vastly amused, "don't be absurd. You know there's nothing I'd like better than to—"

He had just managed to grab her arm, pulling her back against him, when the door was flung open. Standing there like an avenging angel was Adolphus, this time attired in pale lavender, with Lady Elfreda and Rupert St. Ives directly behind him.

It was a colorful tableau: Elizabeth, her cheeks flushed and eyes shining with rage,
Fraser
in his towel with his arm around her, and Adolphus staring at the two of them in horror as Lady Elfreda, an expression of malicious triumph on her raddled face, looked on with ill-concealed delight.

But it was Rupert who took the offensive, his normally tanned face pale with rage. "What is the meaning of this,
Fraser?
Take your hands off Miss Traherne at once!" he thundered, before Adolphus could do more than stare, gasping for breath like a landed perch.

Fraser
released her arm with deliberate, insolent leisure-
liness
. The anger in the air was like electricity, and the danger was very real. The two men were hard, implacable enemies, and she had somehow put herself in the middle of them, giving them the excuse they so badly wanted to kill each other.

She reached out and threaded her arm through Rupert's uniform-clad one, feeling the muscles bunched in fury beneath her hand. She knew perfectly well that Lady Elfreda would deny the errand that had sent her into such a contretemps, and her fertile brain was working feverishly.

"Don't be absurd, Rupert," she said with an airy laugh. "It's my fault entirely. I was rushing around, trying to get ready for the service, and I stumbled into the wrong room. We're right next door, you know, and I never had a terribly good sense of direction. Believe me, both Captain
Fraser
and I
were
terribly embarrassed, and I think the sooner we let the poor man put some clothes on, the happier everyone will be." Except me, she thought belatedly, still hopelessly fascinated with his beautiful chest.

"Don't
you
be absurd, Elizabeth," Rupert snarled.

"This man has been taking advantage of you, and
I
mean to see—"

"Rupert!" she shrieked, as Michael took a threatening step toward him.

"I would suggest, St. Ives, that you take that insult back," he
said,
his voice a silken menace. "Miss Traherne is hardly likely to submit to being ravished without putting up a fight, and she is, as you can see, looking charmingly intact."

"I'm ashamed of you, Rupert, for suspecting such a thing," she said in a high, breathless voice. "And I am certain Jeremy would be too. Now you come along with me to chapel while I read you a thundering scold for having such a wretched mind." She tugged at his sturdy figure, and after one last, bitter glance at Fraser's saturnine face, he followed her. When they were out of earshot, she could feel the tensed muscles relax.

"You don't fool me for a moment, Elizabeth," he said with grim amusement.

"Whatever do you mean? If you're going to suggest that I actually did anything with that insufferable, rude—"

"I know you didn't. And I beg pardon for thinking such a thing, even for a moment. The trouble is
,
I know what sort
Fraser
is."

"You also know what sort I am," she said stiffly.

"I do indeed. And I know you aren't the addle-brained widgeon you just did a very creditable imitation of. So I can only presume you are trying to protect
Fraser.
And I wonder why."

"I am not trying to protect him. But I also don't want you skewering him for something he didn't do," she shot back.

"He's earned it many times over for other crimes. Not the least of which is his current traitorous activities."

"What makes you think he's a traitor?" she demanded. "He's been a loyal soldier for years. Why should he turn bad?"

Rupert shrugged his massive shoulders. "It's the same old story. He was passed over for a promotion, a promotion I won't deny he more than deserved. That made him bitter, and his gaming debts made him vulnerable to offers of French assistance."

"Do you have any proof of this?" she asked hotly.

"We're getting it. In the meantime, you keep out of his rooms and out of his way. He'll be a dangerous man when cornered, you mark my word. Jeremy would never forgive me if anything happened to you."

"Nothing's going to happen to me. Not at Captain Fraser's hands, at any rate," she said with great certainty as they reached the chapel door. Rupert looked down at her, a troubled expression on his grim face, but he said nothing as he led her inside.

Elizabeth had sat through more painful services, but not many. Usually she was responsible for a goodly part of the sermon each week delivered in Sumner's thundering tones. But her brother, disdaining her advice, had chosen for his text "Esau, my brother, is a hairy man, and I am a smooth man." As Elizabeth sat demurely in the front pew of the small family chapel, she was fully aware of
Adolphus's
fulminating gaze, Lady Elfreda's unruffled good cheer, and the various bored expressions on those around her as they listened to her brother drone on and on. Every now and then Rupert would gaze down at her perplexedly, and she reached out and patted his strong hand reassuringly. As if he were another brother, she realized with a start of surprise.

Neither
Brenna
nor the
contessa
was anywhere in sight, and Elizabeth only hoped they hadn't murdered each other in a jealous rage over her brother. But considering the
contessa's
eventual destination last night, it seemed likely she wouldn't care.
Fraser
had likewise decided to avoid holy worship that morning, unless Adolphus had already speared him with
a
sword to avenge her tarnished honor. Surprisingly enough, she giggled again, incurring Sumner's disapproving glare.

Elizabeth had a strong sense of self-preservation, and she knew full well that the only thing that would stop the various people eager to upbraid her would be Sir Maurice. He was viewed by all present as something akin to the Prince Regent himself, albeit a trifle more distinguished. Adolphus bowed to his every pronouncement with flattering raptness,
Fraser
was politely deferential, Sir Henry
Hatchett
and Rupert were respectful, and Lady Elfreda viewed him with an awe that seemed almost to border on fear. After last night Elizabeth hesitated to place herself in reach of those hard, encroaching fingers and that mountainous stomach, but there was no help for it. Without a doubt no one would dare accost her for her behavior in the presence of the redoubtable general.

Therefore, once the interminable service was over, she darted up to Sir Maurice and with amazing temerity wove her arm through his, smiling up at him confidingly.

"I haven't had any chance to talk with you again," she said with a coy simper. "I am so honored to be present at a
houseparty
with one of our most distinguished heroes. You must tell me all about your favorite battles."

The lecherous look he cast her would have panicked a less determined creature than Elizabeth. "You're the filly young
Fraser
has his eye on, eh? What game is it you're playing,
m
'dear?"

This was unpromising, but the look on
Adolphus's
moon face was decidedly dangerous, and Elizabeth persevered. "I expect we seem like silly, brainless creatures to a great soldier such as
yourself
," she continued valiantly, determined not to let him abandon her to the wolves. "But truly, I am fascinated by warfare and espionage and the like. I expect you've known a great many French agents."

He turned to stare at her slowly out of his dark, cruel eyes, and Elizabeth was vaguely aware that she had put her foot in it this time.

"Young lady, you shouldn't be worrying your pretty little head about such stuff. That's men's business, not for the weaker sex," he admonished sharply, and removed her hand from his arm with finality before turning his short, sturdy back on her. Elizabeth couldn't control a little shiver of relief. There was something about the man that unnerved her.

"Don't mind him." The
contessa
materialized by her side, looking surprisingly well rested considering her nighttime perambulations. "He doesn't care for intelligent females, I'm afraid."

"With you being the exception?"
Elizabeth found herself saying, and then blushed. When would she learn to control her unruly tongue? "I beg your pardon. I had no right to say such a thing."

"That's perfectly all right. I take it as a compliment," the
contessa
said, her good humor unimpaired. "It's quite true that the general and I are more than friends, so why should I mind a little plain speaking? As a matter of fact, I prefer it. Why are Sir Adolphus and the old dragon staring at you so furiously? And the handsome Captain St. Ives is deep in conversation with your so-charming brother. The looks they keep casting your way are not encouraging."

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