The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife (37 page)

BOOK: The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife
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Men! They were actually
enjoying themselves. She, on the other hand, was horrified. So many
men had attacked Reed! What had he done to incur such enmity that
someone would send a small army to kill him? She shivered at such
malevolence.

And how frightening
that he had no idea who was out to kill him, or why!

Foster was clearly
impressed with Reed’s abilities and
sang-froid
.
“He must have learnt those fancy moves in one of them foreign
countries, Missy, cuz they don’t teach that in the British army.”

She noticed her butler
was becoming a grudging admirer of “yon Gordon”.

“Thank you for
following him, Mr. Mason.” She was relieved Reed hadn’t been
badly hurt or killed.

“But I did nothing to
help him!” the Scot admitted ruefully.

“It doesn’t matter,
as long as he survived.” And this way, she didn’t have to explain
to Reed why she was having him followed. “You’re sure he didn’t
see you?”

“I don’t think so.
There was no need for him to know I was there or that anyone had
witnessed the fight.” Then he confided on a quieter note, “Once I
got over my amazement, I started using my head and realized that, if
we were going to solve this mystery, I needed to summon some Runners
to haul those men down to headquarters to question them. They might
be the same thugs who’ve been trying to harm you, Mrs. Leighton.”

“How did you do that
without Mr. Gordon seeing you?” she asked.

“I didn’t want to
leave him alone in case those others came back to attack him, so I
sent a street urchin with a message to Bow Street — which
fortuitously was right around the corner — asking for
reinforcements. I kept a watchful eye from around the corner and
waited until Mr. Gordon left before going in to hold them down with
my gun and ensure their arrest.”

“One thing is
certain. He had no need of my help. He was like a one-man army.”
The investigator couldn’t stop talking about what he’d witnessed.
“I’ve only ever seen such fighting once in my life. It was an
oriental fellow who tried to teach the soldiers in my unit a new
method of self-defense. Now that I’ve seen it in action, I’m
going to recommend that it be taken up by all law enforcement
officers. The military should be learning it too. What an effective
weapon it would be, particularly in covert situations where silence
is required.”

“I would still prefer
that you continue following him,” she said. “The next time, they
might confront him with a pistol.”

After witnessing the
profound respect he’d formed for Mr. Gordon, she was somehow not
surprised to hear him say, “I’m not so sure he wouldn’t do just
as well against a gun, Mrs. Leighton. The constabulary could use your
man’s skills!”

* * *

Tally hated to admit
it, but she was impressed with how... nice she looked in the new gown
her sisters had bought her. Thank goodness they’d agreed that the
usual white worn by young ladies their first Season looked too
insipid on her. The
coquelicot
satin underslip infused the transparent tiffany with a warmth pure
white could never achieve. It made the gown look like it was
delicately blushing.

She twirled gracefully
around, holding her silken skirts in both hands. Although the cut of
her gown was simple, it showed her to great advantage. She was well
pleased with it. She’d been thankful when Madame Simone had agreed,
out of the hearing of her sisters, to make her bodice drop-fronted,
which allowed her to dress herself. The modiste obviously knew the
value of discretion. Other than a brief enigmatic look, she hadn’t
demurred.

Her sisters had
insisted on hiring a coiffeur to do her hair and Francois, a
transplanted Parisian, had indeed been the artist they’d promised.
He’d pulled back her thick, natural waves into an elaborate,
braided confection on the crown of her head, allowing a few strategic
curls to drift loosely at her temples and nape. The whole look
created a softness, almost a beauty, she’d never known she
possessed.

At least her sisters
hadn’t insisted on being there while she dressed. If they’d known
she had no personal maid or companion to help her, they’d have been
furious. They would have sent one of theirs over or come themselves,
heaven forbid. Luckily, they’d never thought to ask. In their
world, no woman was able to survive without such help.

If she’d been
intending to participate in the Season’s entertainments, Tally
would have had to hire a lady’s maid. But becoming part of that
circus was the last thing she planned on doing. She meant to keep her
vow. This was going to be her one evening primped and gowned for a
party.

Stepping into slippers
the color of her under-slip, she reached for the matching satin cape
and stole a final look in the mirror. She wished she had time to do a
quick sketch of herself. She wouldn’t see herself looking like this
very often in the future. Maybe never, if word got out about her
living situation! She wiped that horrible thought from her mind.
She’d been toying with the idea of doing a self-portrait for awhile
now. Perhaps once she’d extricated herself from this morass of lies
and danger, she would closet herself away and give it a try.

Leaving her room to go
downstairs, she was surprised to find she was nervous, yet excited,
to be all dressed up and going out. She performed a little skip and
hop and laughed at her foolishness.

Expecting to see only
Foster in the front hall, she was surprised into shyness to find her
pseudo-spouse standing beside her stalwart retainer, waiting to see
her off. Glancing up and seeing her, he walked to the bottom of the
stairs and held out his hand to assist her down the last few steps.
Her hand snugly in his, he bent and kissed it with heartfelt warmth.
“You are very beautiful, wife of mine.”

She didn’t know where
to look. Her gaze collided with his and she couldn’t look away.
Tonight, his eyes resembled a stormy sea, swirling with conflicting
emotions.

“I wish I could go
with you,” he said.

“I wish you could
too,” she heard herself reply.
Was
she out of her mind?
Imagine the trouble that would cause!
“But think how complicated it would be for you? You don’t even
remember who you know or don’t know.”

“I suppose that might
be problematic,” he agreed with a wry smile.

“That, and it’s
just too danger–” she cut off the rest of her words. He hadn’t
told her about being attacked. She didn’t know why he’d remained
silent and that worried her.

Typically, he responded
with humor to her unfinished worry. “You think someone might kill
me because I can’t remember who they are?”

She acknowledged his
attempt at humor with a slight smile. “It’s not funny. Any manner
of trouble might befall you and you’d be alone to face it.” She
wanted to be sure he didn’t venture out to meet even worse.
“Besides, a party is tiring and you’ve just gotten out of your
sick bed.”

“But I wasn’t
really sick and I’m feeling much more the thing,” he insisted.

She understood his need
to be himself and well again, but she had no time to debate this now.
“We can talk about this another time. My sister’s carriage is
waiting for me. I have to go.…”

He leaned in and gave
her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Have a good time.”

Her gaze slid to Foster
— who rolled his eyes — then she looked back at Reed again. “I
don’t expect to, but at least I’ll have fulfilled my obligation.”
She touched his arm gently and smiled warmly at him. “Foster and
Mr. Mason will be here to keep you company.”

Chapter Twenty-One

“Good evening,
Mademoiselle
Lawton.
You’re looking
très belle
.”

“Mr. Dubuc. How kind
of you to say so.” Tally was surprised to be greeted by Victor
Dubuc the moment she entered her sister’s home this evening. Had he
been waiting for her to arrive, she wondered, because he immediately
offered her his arm and lead her into Venetia’s ballroom. She was
flattered that such a beautiful — there was no other word for his
beatific good looks — and elegant man wished to escort her. Or had
her sister asked him to attend her?

“The Countess and the
Earl have done themselves proud this evening,” her escort said.

She still found it odd
to hear her sister referred to as a Countess. She had never been in
Venetia’s London home before, and was surprised by the understated,
classical elegance of it. She was amazed her sister hadn’t
succeeded in bullying her husband, Frederick Pallister, the Earl of
Hargrave, into adopting a more modern concept. She doffed her
proverbial hat to her brother-in-law’s strength of will to have
resisted what she knew must have been a veritable campaign launched
by Venetia to “improve” their home.

“Darling! You’ve
arrived!” Swept into her eldest sister’s arms, she was almost
overpowered by the scent of Venetia’s potent perfume. Straight from
Paris, Tally was certain. Nothing but the best for her family, damn
the cost!

She immediately felt
ashamed of her carping attitude. Here was Venetia, going all out for
her and she was busy finding fault.

“I see Mr. Dubuc has
found you already.”

“I was just about to
ask your sister to dance,” he told Venetia.

“Oh, you’re having
dancing. I didn’t realize...” Tally looked around and realized
there were far more people than she had expected. She’d thought
this was going to be a much smaller affair given its belated nature.
As for dancing, she was pleased about that. She’d worried it would
be mainly standing around talking, followed by a late supper. She
should have known better. When had anyone in her family ever done
anything on a small scale?

“I’m calling it a
soiree
, like a
smaller, less formal ball,” Venetia explained. She cast a coy look
at Mr. Dubuc. “And, by all means, you may ask my sister to dance.
I’ll give you the chance to... become better acquainted, shall I,
before introducing her to some of the other guests?”

For goodness sake! Did
Venetia have to be so obvious?

“May I have the
pleasure of this dance, Mademoiselle?” He bowed. “You do dance
the waltz?”

Embarrassed by her
sister’s obvious machinations, she replied, “Yes, although I have
only done so at family gatherings.” What else could she do now but
accept? The poor man must be wishing himself miles away from her
family and their brazen matchmaking. He’d probably find an excuse
to flee as soon as this courtesy dance was over.

“Then we should do
fine. After all, this is just a family gathering, although a rather
grand one.” He smiled and winked, inviting her to join in his
gentle mockery.

Even Venetia laughed.
Imagine calling her festive occasion ‘just a family gathering’!

Tally chuckled, sharing
the joke, and immediately felt more at ease with him, as they made
their way onto the dance floor. He bowed. She curtsied. She was
pleased to note that he was an excellent dancer, guiding her through
easy steps around the dance circle with practiced ease.

When the dance ended,
he said, “If you wish, I will go find us something to drink.”

“That would be
lovely. I am rather thirsty.” And she wanted a moment to herself to
catch her breath and look around. He had kept her attention firmly
focused on him from the moment she’d arrived.

“Will you leave the
choice up to me?”

“Certainly.” He
phrased it in such a way that it would have been difficult to refuse
without seeming impolite. Not that she was worried, with his
elegance, she was certain his choice would be beyond reproach.

He left her standing
near Milana but, a little shy and not yet ready to be thrust among
strangers, she remained quietly unnoticed at the edge of the group
circling her sister. Gazing around the large reception room at the
elaborate decorations and crowd of gleaming guests, she realized her
sisters had gone to a lot of trouble to organize this evening for
her. She felt guilty for not appreciating their efforts more.

“Talia?”

“Spence! What are you
doing here?” Tally shut her eyes at the enormity of what might
happen at any moment should he reveal what he knew. “You promised
to stay far away from my family.”

“I know, but I ran
into your sisters on Bond Street yesterday and they asked me where I
was staying so they might introduce me around. Then they sent me an
invitation to tonight’s event, insisting I attend.” He looked
sheepish.

“You told them I was
in Town?”

“No! Of course not!
We never mentioned you.” He was indignant. “I promised.”

“Of course.” She
breathed a little easier. “Thank you.” She smiled to placate him.
“I appreciate your loyalty. I truly do.” Now, she worried about
who else knew, not only that she was in London, but where she lived.

The band launched into
a lively country dance and, in spite of her worries, her toe began
tapping.

Quickly forgetting his
crossness, as usual, Spence held his hand out for hers. He knew how
much she loved dancing. “Care to dance?”

“Why thank you, kind
sir, I’d be pleased to dance.”

They danced a set and
she was suddenly glad she’d come. She hadn’t danced in ages and
always enjoyed it. At the end of the sequence, Spence escorted her
back to where her sisters were standing and, at her insistence,
immediately made himself scarce. She was afraid her family might
succeed in worming information out of him if they saw them together.

If he hadn’t told her
sisters, then who had? She hadn’t realized London was so… small.
The way everyone seemed to know or talk about everybody else made any
outing much more perilous. That Spence could run into Venetia and
Milana like that!

And, she suddenly
remembered, she was going to have to deal with her grandmother later!
For awhile she’d managed to put her Grandma’s attendance out of
her mind. That she wasn’t here yet was no surprise. Her grandmother
loved to make an entrance and usually waited until well after the
other guests were there, to arrive.

BOOK: The Viscount's Counterfeit Wife
3.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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