The Riddle of the Reluctant Rake (25 page)

Adair stiffened. “Gad! Am I a wanted man, again? My apologies if you were embarrassed. I suppose they believe I've done away with poor Miss Prior?”

“Be dashed if I know. I understand his lordship is vastly put out with you. He don't like losing good officers, especially now.”

Adair said drily, “Aside from that letter he writ to his brother, Wellington didn't bestir himself to help me.”

Ready as always to defend his General, Vespa pointed out, “You're still alive. Who knows what he's been ‘bestirring.' Paige says you're making progress and that you've formed a tendre for Cecily Hall. She's a rare beauty.” A grin curved the fine mouth. “I'm glad you've turned your unwelcome attentions from my lady!”

Adair chuckled. “I gave you a short run for your money, didn't I? Is Consuela here tonight?”

“If she were, I'd not tell you. But—to say truth, Hasty, she has been extreme anxious for you, and I know she holds you in her prayers.”

“God bless her. Thank her for me, and—”

A lady wearing a rich blue gown and with a blue flower in her fair curls danced by in the arms of a naval officer. Adair swore softly. “I'd like to know who gave that fellow the right to hold her so close!”

Vespa glanced around. “Is that the ‘heavenly Hall'? Trust her to flout convention by dancing the waltz in public. No, you really must not glare so murderously, my dear chap. I'm told that every bachelor in Town—and a great many men who are no longer bachelors—yearn to hold Miss Hall in just such a way. Now where are you going? Don't be a fool! You can't—”

“Devil I can't!” growled Adair and dodged his way through the dancers to tap the naval officer on the shoulder.

“Be off with you, Mister Impertinence,” said the Navy, whirling his partner away. “You cannot cut in on the waltz!”

Adair pursued them. “Your Admiral wants a word with you. He's waiting by that potted palm.”

The naval officer glanced where Adair indicated. “I don't see—”

“He's stepped into the corridor. Best hasten, old man. He's boiling about something!”

“Oh, my!” Behind her lacy mask, Cecily's eyes danced with laughter. “Do go, Monty. I'd not have you in his black books. I'll try to save you a dance later. This gentleman may finish the waltz.”

The Navy muttered angrily, but gave Adair a curt nod, then hurried off the floor.

Adair gathered Cecily's fragrant and willowy figure into his arm and smiled down at her as he guided her into the dance.

“I think you told that nice lieutenant a fib,” she accused.

“Another crime to be added to my infamies! But the end justifies the means.”

“Does it?” She said, “Oh, you dance so well! But what a risk, to draw attention to yourself.”

“I'd risk more than that for the pleasure of dancing with you.”

She looked up and met his eyes. The crowded room and the guests faded and they were alone in a haze of contentment.

After a timeless and blissful interval, Adair was startled to hear laughter.

The music had stopped. Other couples were leaving the floor and watching them in amusement. There was a smattering of mocking applause.

“Oh, Jupiter!” he gasped, drawing Cecily to a halt.

Flushed with embarrassment, she tugged at his hand. “Not that way!”

Her naval admirer was at the edge of the crowd. He looked furious and was obviously searching for them. Adair reached up quickly and snatched the blue flower from Cecily's hair.

She said, “Come. Hurry!”

They blended with the chattering crowd and Cecily led the way into a wide corridor and thence to a passage along which were several ante-rooms. She chose one that was unoccupied and Adair started to close the door but paused to ask, “You permit?”

She knew as well as he that this was most improper, but she nodded without comment and he closed the door.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the hand she held out to him. “You are very good to have come. I didn't know how else to meet you, but I'm afraid you run a risk by talking with me, so we must make this brief.”

They sat side by side on a gold velvet sofa. The scent she wore was elusively intoxicating; the low-cut blue velvet gown clung revealingly to her superb figure. Adair had to fight the need to hold her again, to kiss that soft and vivid mouth.

Cecily was accustomed to being admired, but his ardent gaze flustered her and she gave a nervous little ripple of laughter.

He flushed. “I'm sorry. I said we must hasten and here I sit like a tongue-tied idiot. Very well, to business.” But the firelight was glinting on one little curl that clung to the edge of her mask. Watching it, knowing what he meant to ask her, he heard himself murmur instead, “You have glorious hair, Miss Hall.”

“Thank you. If that is your way of being tongue-tied, I think you must be—”

“Bewitched?” He looked at her steadily. “I am. No point in denying it, is there? Are you offended?”

Her smile was faint but betrayed no sign of annoyance. “I rather gathered you had revised your first impression of me, now that I am no longer trying to shoot you.”

“You levelled me without firing a shot. I am captive and—completely captivated.”

She leaned closer and asked huskily, “So what do you mean to do about it, sir?”

“What can I do? Even if I dared hope you feel the same, I am liable to arrest and deeper disgrace. How could any man ask a lady to share such a future?”

“But when your name is cleared—as it will be—”

He took up her hand again. “Thank you for your confidence. In that event, I would hopefully be reinstated and could offer you a name not tainted by desertion and murder.” He shrugged wryly. “But precious little else. Oh, I'm not a pauper. My maternal grandmama has promised me a very nice estate in Gloucestershire—provided I survive the war and do not bring disgrace on the family name. I have a competence that I judge comfortable, but it must appear insignificant when set against a great fortune. Besides which, I am very sure you are besieged by far more illustrious suitors than I.”

She said carelessly, “Oh, yes. I am offered an even larger fortune than my own, or to become a countess, or even a marchioness, though with somewhat lesser fortunes.”

It was no more than Rufus had implied, but his heart sank. She was beautiful, spirited, rich and intelligent; of course she would be admired and courted. He drew a deep breath and said with forced lightness, “And I am a sorry fool who had no right to speak as I did. Forgive, and tell me—”

“About myself?” She said with wide-eyed innocence, “But of course, you know very little of my background. If you are really interested…?”

“As well ask if I am interested in breathing! Start at the beginning. I picture you as a lovely little girl who—”

“Who was very unhappy,” she interposed, the smile leaving her eyes. “I can scarce remember my father; he was killed in a great storm when I was not quite five years old. My mama was the angel in my life. Lovely, gentle, always kind. I adored her. She remarried a year after my father's death. My stepfather already had three small daughters. He was extremely handsome. Tall and fair, a very informed mind, and cold as ice. I think he cared for Mama, insofar as he was capable of it. To me he was polite. He demanded respect and absolute obedience. Neither of which I granted him.”

Adair found that he was still holding her hand, and he made no attempt to relinquish it. “Never say he was cruel to you?”

“If you mean did he beat me—no. I'd not have minded that, for at least he would have shown an interest. He simply ignored me, and my stepsisters were just like him. I was kept away from Mama. I could scarce have been more isolated on a desert island. I know Mama grieved and wanted me by her. She was always frail and she died of an inflammation of the lungs two years later. Along with my stepfather's children, I was put in the care of a new governess. She soon realized that I was not valued, and played her cards accordingly. Once again, I was the unwanted outsider.”

Adair patted her hand. “Poor things, they were likely very jealous, for you must have been far more lovely than any of them.”

“They were jealous, true, and lost no opportunity to sneer and make my life miserable. Still, I saw enough of the outside world to understand that I had very much to be thankful for, a beautiful home, servants, pretty clothes, and I certainly never went hungry. All I lacked was the kindness and affection I longed for. My grandmama rescued me, bless her. She is the only person I ever saw best my stepfather in an argument. One morning she came calling. I was sent for and she talked to me for a few minutes only, but it was enough. She and my stepfather went into his study. I heard their voices begin to rise. He had no chance, poor fellow. That afternoon Grandmama carried me off to Singletree. Alice and Rufus were waiting. For the first time since my dear mama died I was greeted with love.” She smiled mistily. “It was the—the happiest day I had known for years. I lived with them until my stepfather removed to our consulate in Denmark. Grandmama refused to allow me to go with him, and I doubt he cared except for appearance's sake. Alice and I were sent to a Young Ladies' Seminary for two years. Afterwards, being the elder, I was brought out first. I loved the busy social scene, whereas Alice was shy and really wanted no part of it. We have seen less of each other this past year or so, but I never dreamed…” Her voice broke.

Adair pressed her hand to his lips and said gently, “You must feel you have lost a beloved sister. I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.” She said with a faint sigh, “You do understand. I knew you would.”

“I'm glad of that. And I beg you will not give up hope. We'll find her yet. In that connection, I must ask you—did you know that Miss Alice was slipping out at night to meet my brother?”

“No!” She drew back, her eyes at once stormy. “And I don't believe a word of it! She would never do such a disgraceful thing! Besides, Hudson Adair is a very attractive gentleman, but scarcely the type to appeal to a young and romantical girl.”

“Not Hudson. My younger brother. Nigel. And I am sorry to say he has made it clear that he is deep in love with your cousin.”

She stared at him with shocked eyes. All the colour drained from her cheeks, and she exclaimed in a half-whisper, “
Nigel…?
Oh! My heavens! I—we…”

“What is it? If he has—”

“No, no, he has not—That is—Oh, Hasty! What a dreadful mistake for us to make! Yes, I know you don't understand. But did it never occur to you to wonder why we were all so sure you were guilty?”

“You trusted in your coachman and the testimony of the people at the hotel. I can scarce blame you!”

“It was damning, true. But we might have investigated more thoroughly had it not been for…” She fumbled in her reticule and took out a creased piece of paper. “I intended to confront you with this. I found it on my cousin's writing-desk after she disappeared. It was never introduced into evidence because we feared it would damage her reputation. We knew you had been in England on several occasions last autumn, and this little reminder that she had writ to herself convinced my family that you had indeed met Alice prior to the ball, and were lying about it, and about everything.”

She handed him a note, written in a careful copperplate hand.

Meet Adair Tuesday. Same place and time.

He said slowly, “You thought I was the ‘Adair' in question.”

“I—we—never doubted it for a moment. You were the dashing hussar who would easily win a young girl's heart. I did not dream she cared for Nigel! They are just—children! Oh, if
only
we had not rushed to condemn you! I am so ashamed!”

“Don't blame yourself. It likely wouldn't have made any difference, as things turned out.” But he thought, ‘Would it? If the note had been produced in evidence, would Nigel have realized that Alice had been referring to him? Might he then have come forward to confess his relationship with her?'

Troubled, Miss Hall said, “Surely, he wouldn't have eloped with her?”

“He's a good lad and has been bred up to be very aware of the proprieties and he goes in awe of my grandfather. I think this is his first love. My family brush it off as ‘puppy love,' but youngsters feel things very intensely, you know.”

After a pause she asked, “Did you, Colonel? Or can you remember back that far?”

He looked at her sharply. A dimple trembled beside her mouth, but her thick lashes were lowered.

“I think I am being called elderly,” he said with a grin. “But I can certainly remember my first love. The lady was my mama's French maid and quite the loveliest creature I had beheld in all my sixteen years. I would have died for her, and I'm very sure I plagued her to death with my passionate poems and the little bunches of flowers I would smuggle to her.” He smiled, remembering. “She was ten years my senior, and very patient and kind. I was hopelessly enamoured for upwards of a year until she married the under-butler and they emigrated to the New World.”

“Poor boy. Were you shattered?”

“I probably would have been, had I not found a new love; a superb dapple-grey mare my grandfather was so kind as to give me.”

“Aha! Would your present mount be related to that lady?”

“Toreador is one of her sons—yes. Thank you for noticing him.”

“How could one avoid it—he's a beauty. And I'm glad you recovered from your lovesick state. But I believe you sidestepped my question about your brother.
Do
you think he is so deep in love that he might have persuaded Alice to go to Gretna Green?”

Adair said slowly, “No man who really loves a lady could persuade her to an elopement that would lead to her disgrace and social ostracism.”

“But he is very young. If he
is
so enamoured and Alice agreed to an elopement, what then?”