The Maiden At Midnight (19 page)

‘Yes, because I have to. But I am trying to
do it on my own terms, selecting a man who is the least
disagreeable to me.’

Harry Carstairs was silent for a moment.
‘Well, that is what tonight is all about, after all,’ he said
finally.

‘And so Joss can have further opportunity to
beguile Alora,’ she reminded him.

‘Just so.’

‘I shall try and ascertain something of the
reasons behind Miss Fortnum’s dislike,’ she decided. Really, Harry
Carstairs had the most beneficial effect on her. When she was
talking to him she could quite forget that Willett was nearby. In
fact, the idea of encountering Willett Proctor with Mr. Carstairs
beside her was strangely reassuring. ‘But in the meantime… would
you care to point out some of these gentlemen you have discovered
for me?’

Harry stood looking down at her, his
expression… odd. Meeting those clear green eyes, Isabella felt a
flush of warmth suffuse her. There was something in his expression
that made the breath catch in her throat, made her heart suddenly
thunder in her chest, so much so that for a moment it seemed to
drown out all other noise in the room. She was abruptly,
startlingly aware of him. Not as a person she was coming to know as
a – not friend, exactly, more conspirator – but as a man. Very much
as a man. The sudden awareness was so disconcerting that it seemed
to hold her in thrall for a long, heart-thudding moment. And he
felt it too. She knew he did for she saw his eyes darken to jade,
saw how his own breathing quickened as he looked at her mouth,
fixed on it as if, at any moment…

Dear God, he is going to
kiss me…
And then…
Oh, but I want him to kiss me!

Somehow, she now understood
why her body was behaving so strangely. It sensed that Harry
Carstairs wanted to kiss her. Or, more to the point, it
wanted
Harry to kiss her
with a single-minded insistence that left her stunned. He might be
all manner of infuriating but she knew, instinctively, that he
would kiss her very well indeed.
One of
the benefits of a man with experience
, she
reflected vaguely,
must be that they know
what they are about when it came to making love to a
lady
…

This was such a shocking thought that it
made her take a small, instinctive step backwards, breaking the
tense silence that had lengthened between them. Mr. Carstairs
blinked, as if jolted out of his own reverie and he looked at her
almost blankly for a long moment. ‘Miss Hathaway…’

‘You were going to point out your
discoveries, I think?’ she spoke quickly, unwilling to hear
whatever he might say. Did her voice sound strange? Surely it was a
little higher than it should have been. Did he guess what had been
going through her mind? The idea made her blush all over again and
she berated herself for her foolishness. This would never do!

‘The men. Yes.’ With an effort, he seemed to
pull himself together and he held out his arm for her. After a
moment’s hesitation, she laid her gloved hand upon it, half
expecting a small puff of smoke to appear the moment she touched
him. Happily, the curious heat that had burned between them did not
seem to have a physical manifestation and her glove connected to
the superfine of his jacket without incident.

They began to walk along
slowly, with apparent decorum, Harry leading the way. He elected to
walk in the opposite direction to Lord Proctor. Flustered as she
was by what had just occurred, Isabella did not feel in the least
bit decorous, but she was very glad that she didn’t have that
additional emotional turmoil to deal with. She shot a sideways
glance at Mr. Carstairs, wondering if he, who was surely a man who
had had a great deal of experience with women, was truly affected
by the moment they seemed to have shared. It was impossible to say
for his face was closed, almost
deliberately
expressionless, as if he
were reluctant to reveal anything at all.

It was far more telling than she had hoped
for and a delicious, entirely feminine, thrill shivered through
her. He was just as nonplussed by what had just taken place between
them – whatever that was – as she had been. It might be entirely
inappropriate, but she liked the fact that she had the power to
disturb him.

‘If you look to your left, you will see a
rabbit faced gentleman in conversation with a very bored looking
young lady. That is Mr. Arnold Fanshaw. He has little to recommend
him other than eight thousand a year and an amiable – some would
say simple, but people can be unkind – outlook on life. He is
unmarried, too dim to have a great many vices and could easily be
persuaded into marriage, if you see fit to do so.’

If he had been trying to distract her, it
worked for she could not stop the small gurgle of laughter from
spilling out. ‘He sounds perfectly charming.’

Arnold Fanshaw was indeed talking earnestly
to a young lady who looked as if she would prefer to be standing
anywhere but where she currently found herself. He did not seem to
notice that her attention had wandered but, if the somewhat vacuous
look upon his face was anything to go by, noticing things did not
happen all that frequently for Mr. Fanshaw. In looks he was well
enough; a little chubby which would quite likely translate to
portly in a few more years. He had unremarkable brown hair, a round
face and not a great deal to distinguish him.

‘Eight thousand, you say?’

‘And some land, I believe, in Berkshire. He
is six and twenty and possesses all of his own teeth.’

Isabella bit her lip. ‘Well, teeth are very
important.’

‘Indeed. But let us not
linger here. If we continue on, we come to Sir Oswald Leech, a fine
young fellow by any standards. On the plus side, he has in the
region of ten thousand in the funds, is mildly amusing and, I am
told on good authority, is quite the young buck. He has a great
deal more personality than poor Fanshaw but the trade off on that
one is that he is something of a ladies man.’ When Isabella opened
her mouth to speak, Mr. Carstairs held up an imperious hand. ‘Not
insurmountable and I have it on good authority that he is seriously
considering marriage. His sire wants the estate buckled down with a
future heir and, at eight and twenty, it might reasonably be
expected that the only son might make a push to please his papa. A
reasonable contender, if you do not mind the fact that he will
rarely be faithful,’ he glanced down at Isabella.
‘
Do
you mind? I
believe that some women are perfectly content for their husbands to
run a mistress or two.’

The question flustered
her.
Did
she mind
that? Surely the reason some women did not object to their husbands
taking on a mistress was that it kept them out of the house more
frequently. As Isabella was unsure what kind of man she would end
up with, she could not know one way or another but answered as
honestly as possible. ‘I suppose it rather depends on the
man.’

He stared at her and once again, that sizzle
of heat flared between them, a flash of lightening that had
Isabella wishing she could fan the warmth out of her cheeks.

‘A sensible answer,’ was all he said,
however and she could swear that his voice sounded as strained as
she felt. ‘Getting back to Sir Oswald… I know for a fact that all
he really cares for in a wife is a pretty face and a sweet
temperament -’

‘I can pretend.’

‘ –
so you should do very
well there.
If
you
do not speak.’

It was really quite absurd
how he managed to tumble her emotions around, like so many dice on
the hazard table. One moment, he had her so on edge physically that
she felt as if she might melt if he so much as touched her. The
next, she was hard pressed to suppress her laughter.
Is that why I enjoy his company so
much
?
The blissful
unpredictability of our encounters?

For much as she might prefer to think
otherwise, Mr. Carstairs was one of the most amusing men she had
ever met. If he found her too forward tongue a problem, he
certainly did not hesitate to tell her. In fact, he almost seemed
to encourage it.

‘You think I cannot remain silent?’

‘I think you would struggle to do so.’

She shrugged. ‘Tell me… are there any men on
your list who do not object to a woman who expresses her own
opinions?’

‘Three, at least. Perhaps four if the
opinion happens to be his own.’

‘And do any of them have a sense of
humor?’

‘Hmm… humor is so very personal, don’t you
think? Freddie Arbuthnot, for example, finds bodily functions to be
quite hilarious.’

Isabella frowned. ‘Bodily functions?’

‘Schoolboy humor, if you like. Belching and…
other such things. You cannot possess any brothers.’

‘Just one,’ she said, without thinking. ‘So
I do take your point.’

‘A brother? Oh yes, we have been meaning to
ask you. Where is your brother? You do not mention him.’

There was a small pause. Isabella swallowed
heavily. ‘He was a soldier. Lost in… in battle.’

Isabella watched the look on his face change
as he took her words in. Marcus had only been two and twenty, a few
years younger than Harry and clearly, they had not encountered each
other. All of the humor drained out of his face and he slowly shook
his head. ‘Good God no.’

‘He was lost in Belgium or France. They
could not tell us where, exactly. We assume he is dead for they
have not found him and his commander said there was no hope.’ She
said the words in a rush, wanting to get them out of the way. She
did not want him to look like that. The pity in his eyes was almost
painful. She had spent nearly a year trying to move past the
tragedies that seemed to dominate her life; her father, her brother
and her ridiculous engagement. Harry and Joss had at least ignored
all these things, allowing her to behave normally. ‘Please, Mr.
Carstairs. We need not talk of it.’

‘How the devil did you manage to get through
all this?’ he murmured, as much to himself as to her. ‘Dear God,
Isabella, no one person should have to deal with so much -’

Isabella laid a hand on his arm, willing him
to stop. ‘No. Not… not now, if you please. There is too much to
think about, especially as Willett is here. And… and sometimes
terrible things happen, but people move forward. That is what we
are all trying to do. Just… move forward with our lives.’

‘And you must marry well for your sisters, I
suppose.’

She sighed. ‘We need to be settled in
Society again. My father’s death was quite disgraceful and it will
take a great deal for us to rise above it. He was the one with the
gambling debts but you must know that it is the family that are
tarred with the brush of scandal.’

‘I do know, yes.’ He still looked shaken, as
the full realization of what had befallen the Hathaway family
continued to sink in. ‘And I think it a shocking that -’

‘Isabella? There you are!’

Alora’s voice brought Isabella’s head
around. Sure enough, she was coming towards them, a smile on her
face while Stornley trailed happily behind. Behind him, a few steps
back, came Miss Fortnum, looking rather like she had taken a sip of
sour milk.

‘Alora,’ Isabella smiled,
uncertain if she was pleased by the interruption or not. ‘What
a
lovely
dress.’

Radiant in pale blue crepe, inset with
darker panels around the bodice and skirt, Miss Piedmont was
certainly a vision. She kissed each of Isabella’s cheeks and gave
Mr. Carstairs a warm smile. ‘I pale into insignificance next to
you. I do so like that gown. Is she not the prettiest girl you have
ever seen, Mr. Carstairs?’

The question seemed to make Harry Carstairs
shake off his somber mood and he quirked a smile. ‘She is certainly
a contender.’

‘Mr. Carstairs!’ Alora was shocked. ‘What a
thing to say. It is a question that can have only one answer.’

But Isabella merely laughed for the comment
was typical of the man and she was relieved. This was so much
better. She could not stand the burden of his sympathy, whereas his
dry wit was very welcome. ‘No, no, a man cannot be punished for
honesty Alora. I am sure that Mr. Carstairs has seen a great many
delightful females in the usual course of events. Let us not tax
his poor memory. It is unfair to ask him to bring them all to
mind.

‘That’s right,’ Harry deadpanned, ‘we could
be here for some time.’

‘My lord, how very nice to see you,’
Isabella added as Joss took up position at Alora’s shoulder. ‘I am
so glad you are here. Your good sense might reign in Mr. Carstairs
for he is quite the rattle tonight.’

Joss grinned. ‘Never mind him. He’s probably
behaving like a bear because he was out until the early hours
again.’

‘Indeed?’ Isabella glanced up at Harry from
beneath her lashes. ‘Still enjoying your bachelorhood to the full,
Mr. Carstairs?’

‘Whenever I can, Miss Hathaway,’ he returned
with an answering glint in his eyes.

Miss Fortnum, who had been slowed in her
determined progress by the necessity of greeting acquaintances,
finally arrived. She inclined her head graciously to Isabella, gave
Harry a measuring look and ignored Stornley completely, instead
laying a hand on her niece’s arm.

‘My dear, I have spied several dear
acquaintances over there. Pray, let us go and say hello.’

Alora looked nonplussed. ‘But I wish to talk
with Isabella for a moment. You go and speak to them, Aunt Elise. I
will be along in a minute.’

Elise Fortnum narrowed her eyes at this. She
had not expected to be refused. ‘It does not do to be rude, my
dear.’