by Stella Riley
‘Not,’ said Miranda seductively, ‘until you’ve kissed me.’
God. Do I have to? he thought. And then, Damn it to hell.
The ensuing silence told Cassie that Mr Audley must be complying – and the length of it suggested the kind of kiss she couldn’t begin to imagine. She was tempted to peer round the edge of the chair but had the sense not to risk it. And finally the lady said a trifle breathlessly, ‘Well … I’m glad you haven’t lost any of your skill.’
‘It’s a relief to me, too. So let’s seek out the champagne and perhaps you will also allow me a dance?’
‘Of course – though it must be after supper, since I promised that set to Lord Burford and one doesn’t snub a marquis. If only I had known earlier that you would be here …’
Her voice faded away as the door opened and then closed again.
As soon as she was sure they had gone, Cassie prepared to make her escape before any further catastrophe could overtake her. Out in the corridor and once more vigorously shaking out her petticoats, she considered what she’d overheard. Clearly, that woman had once been Mr Audley’s mistress and, equally clearly, she expected their liaison to resume. What Mr Audley wanted was less obvious. Indeed, Cassie had a vague suspicion that he wasn’t entirely comfortable.
A small smile touched her mouth and she thought, He really isn’t having a good evening, is he? First Cecy Garfield – and now this. But I suppose rakes with a reputation for being irresistible have to expect such complications. And that hint of unease was doubtless embarrassment because he knew I could hear every word.
Sebastian saw her re-enter the ballroom and be immediately surrounded by three gentlemen. The impression he’d gained in the half-light of the library hadn’t been mistaken. She was a trim little thing with hair the colour of cognac and big dark eyes. Not a beauty, perhaps … but not the simpering sort either. It was a pity that after tonight’s debacle, she wouldn’t want to know him. He watched her send the first man away with what he guessed was a graceful apology and the good-looking dark-haired fellow with an equally graceful refusal – which appeared to come as a shock to him. Then, turning, she gave her hand to the gentleman who had been hovering nervously behind her.
‘Taking stock of the possibilities, Sebastian?’ Adrian materialised at his side and, apparently not expecting a reply, added, ‘Where did you disappear to? Nick and Charles Fox were hoping you’d join them for a hand of cards.’
Sebastian wished he had done. As things had turned out, he’d have been a damned sight safer in the card-room than he’d been in the library.
‘I thought they’d already had enough fun at my expense without bringing money into it.’ Still watching the gavotte currently in progress, he gave a small huff of amusement. ‘Who’s the fellow in puce satin? The one who looks in imminent danger of tripping over his own feet.’
‘I’ve no idea. But poor Cassie has my sympathy.’
Sebastian glanced at him. ‘You know her?’
‘Cassandra Delahaye. She’s a friend of Caroline’s.’
‘Delahaye? Gerry Delahaye’s sister?’
‘I don’t know Mr Delahaye – but it sounds likely. As for Cassie – she’s that rare creature, a thoroughly nice girl with no artifice. Indeed, she’s probably the only young lady in London that everyone of both sexes actually likes.’
‘Is she betrothed?’
‘Surprisingly enough, no.’ Adrian shot his friend a suddenly acute glance and added flatly, ‘Don’t even think of it, Sebastian. Yes – Charles Delahaye is exactly the kind of father referred to in our wager. But if you trifle with Cassie’s affections, Caroline will fillet and bread you. And I’ll be happy to watch.’
Ruefully, Mr Audley reflected that Mistress Delahaye was unlikely to allow him within ten feet of her but he said merely, ‘Does that mean you won’t introduce me?’
‘Not unless you promise to maintain a respectable distance.’ Adrian paused and then, relenting, said, ‘I imagine you’ve found this evening less than enjoyable and it’s already served its purpose. Do you want to leave?’
Sebastian’s mouth tightened.
‘I can’t. I’ve promised to dance the first set after supper.’ He gave a short, hard laugh. ‘Do you remember me asking if your past had come back to haunt you?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Because mine just has. It’s over there dancing with the Marquis of Burford.’
* * *
A little later and silently thanking God that the dance was over, Cassie sat in the supper room waiting for Sir Alastair to come to the point. She hadn’t rehearsed what she was going to say but comforted herself with the thought that, if one could deal adequately with one’s wicked cousin, one could manage a very anxious baronet.
Eventually, having fortified himself with a glass of claret and two lobster patties, Sir Alastair said, ‘Mistress Delahaye … you m-may perhaps be aware that I have c-conceived a great – a very great admiration for you. May I have your l-leave to seek an interview with your father?’
Just for an instant, he looked so relieved merely to have got the words out that Cassie felt sorry for him. But it was her cue to put him out of his misery and so, as gently and kindly as she could, she did so … and watched his expression change to one of resignation. Somehow, the fact that he’d expected a refusal but still forced himself to ask made it all worse.
Laying an impulsive hand on his cuff, she said, ‘I’m sorry, sir – truly. But I am quite sure you will find a lady much better suited to you than me and I shall look forward to wishing you happy. And now, if you will excuse me, I see Lord Barclay coming to claim his dance.’
In truth, rather than dance the quadrille Cassie suddenly realised that she’d prefer to go home. It had been oddly satisfying to see the disbelief in Mr Penhaligon’s face when she’d told him her card was full; but though it was a relief to have resolved the situation with Sir Alastair, it would be a while before she stopped feeling guilty about it. As for the interlude in the library … it had been the most peculiar, alarming and exhilarating half-hour of her life and she still didn’t know what to make of it.
But she smiled at Lord Barclay and allowed him to lead her to their place in the set. It was only when they joined the three waiting couples that Cassie found herself facing a silver-fair beauty she’d never seen before; and beside her, the tall, perfectly-proportioned form of the Honourable Sebastian Audley.
Set beneath level dark brows, eyes the exact shade of the last moments of twilight filled with mingled amusement and apology met hers for an instant as he bowed. But Cassie was barely aware of it, her vision suddenly dazzled by what the blaze of light in the ballroom did to his hair. It was thick and glossy and lightly curling. It was also, as Caroline had said, the colour of Burgundy wine and garnets … and, more than that, of rich, dark fire; as living and beautiful and dangerous.
For a handful of heartbeats, Cassie’s mind went utterly blank. Until this moment, she’d thought Richard Penhaligon good-looking but he was a candle to the sun of this man. Olivia had dismissed Mr Audley’s looks as being less important than his various exploits but to Cassie, those antics sounded like the kind of thing he ought to have grown out of at university. His looks, however … height, bearing and beautifully-sculpted features … were little short of devastating. And with the utmost reluctance, she saw what she had been unconsciously determined not to see. She saw what all the fuss was about.
The music began, forcing her to concentrate on steps she could normally have done in her sleep. And when the dance required her to place her hands in those of Mr Audley, something she didn’t recognise but instinctively knew she didn’t want stirred behind her blue and silver bodice.
Quite deliberately, she turned her gaze back to the lady at his side.
The woman from the library, of course … and I got the idea he wasn’t entirely pleased to see her? How foolish. She’s exactly the type who would appeal to a man like him. Then, with a faint sigh, Actually there probab
ly isn’t a gentleman in this room she doesn’t appeal to. But the real question is whether she really is what I think she is… and, if so, what she’s doing in Dolly Cavendish’s ballroom.’
~ * * ~ * * ~
CHAPTER SIX
On the following morning at breakfast, Serena Delahaye surveyed her elder daughter thoughtfully and said, ‘Did something untoward happen last night, Cassie?’
‘No.’ Cassie looked up from the egg she had been absentmindedly cutting into tiny pieces and thought, No. I just got trapped in the library with Sebastian Audley and the woman he probably slept with last night. Then banishing the hugely improper notion, ‘That is … not untoward exactly. Sir Alastair asked for my permission to speak to Papa and I refused. But that has been brewing for some time.’
Sir Charles looked up from his newspaper.
‘You saved me from an interview with Alastair Vennor? My dear … feel free to go out and buy something frivolous.’
‘Don’t be flippant, Charles,’ his wife admonished him. ‘Sir Alastair is a perfectly nice, respectable man. He just suffers from nerves – for which I believe his mother is largely to blame.’
‘Not largely - completely. She terrified her husband into an early grave, then set to work on her son.’ Charles grinned at Cassie. ‘Aside from Sir Alastair’s own defects, you really wouldn’t want to acquire Cornelia Vennor as a mother-in-law.’
‘But you can’t go on turning every gentleman down,’ objected Olivia. ‘Sooner or later, you’ve got to marry someone.’
‘And I expect I will,’ replied her sister tranquilly. ‘Just not Sir Alastair.’
‘Who, then? This is your second season, after all. And --’
‘That will do, Olivia.’ Serena spoke quietly but her tone was firm. ‘Cassie’s marriage prospects are not your concern and I would prefer that you didn’t make them so. And now, since you appear to have finished eating, I suggest you attend to your music.’
‘Oh Mama! Must I? I’m never going to be any good at it and --’
‘You certainly won’t be if you don’t practice. And the piece lying on the harpsichord must be gathering dust by now. Off you go, my dear. I shall join you in a little while to see how you’re getting on.’
With unconcealed reluctance, Olivia left the room. As soon as the door closed behind her, Serena turned back to Cassie and said, ‘Sebastian Audley was at Cavendish House last night. Did you meet him?’
Knowing how bad she was at lying and reluctant, in any case, to do so, Cassie sought a way around the truth. ‘He danced the quadrille in the same set as Lord Barclay and me and he bowed, of course – but we weren’t introduced.’
Charles abandoned his newspaper and raised enquiring brows at his wife.
‘Audley is in Town? Why did you not mention it earlier?’
‘Because Olivia takes far too much interest in him,’ replied Serena. ‘And judging by what I saw last night, so do too many of the other very young ladies – a lot of whom made complete exhibitions of themselves.’
‘Mobbed, was he? Well, he must be used to that. It was exactly the same when he was in London before. But since Wingham’s supposedly making a good recovery, I’m surprised Sebastian came back … and even more surprised he’s chosen to re-enter society. Perhaps he’s decided it’s time to settle down.’
‘And find a wife?’ asked Serena. ‘His reputation is likely to get in the way of that.’
‘Not in all quarters. He’s Wingham’s heir and doesn’t need to marry for money. That will help – as will the fact that though the Audleys may not have come over with the Conqueror, they weren’t very far behind him.’ Charles rose and pushed back his chair. ‘As for his notoriety … worse sinners than Sebastian have put their past behind them. And I doubt he’d have done half the things he has if his father hadn’t been such an ass.’ He strolled towards the door, pausing to pat Cassie’s shoulder as he passed. ‘Marriage is a life-sentence, my dear, so you’re quite right not to take a man you don’t truly want. And when one you do want comes along, you’ll know.’ Upon which note, he walked out.
Cassie looked at her mother.
‘What did Papa mean about Lord Wingham?’
‘Exactly the question I would have asked myself but for the sudden switch to admittedly excellent paternal advice. However, all I recall is that the viscount apparently kept his son on too tight a leash which, in your father’s opinion, was largely responsible for Sebastian’s wild behaviour.’ Serena spread expressive hands and sent her daughter a mischievous smile. ‘My own opinion, for what it’s worth, is that any gentleman with hair of that particular shade would be likely to live up to it.’
* * *
In Cork Street and also at breakfast, Lord Sarre tossed half a dozen gilt-edged invitation cards across the table to Mr Audley.
‘Certain hostesses appear to have been burning the midnight oil.’
Flicking through them, Sebastian said, ‘My God. So soon? But how did they even know where to send them?’
‘Did you tell Charles Fox you were staying with me?’
‘Yes.’ And then, catching Adrian’s look, ‘Oh.’
‘Oh,’ agreed his lordship, his attention largely fixed on the brief note in his hand. ‘That’s unfortunate. I was hoping to go home the day after tomorrow but Rockliffe asks that I remain until the end of the week. He’s bringing his household back to London – probably due to the Duchess’s approaching confinement but also because the House has scheduled a debate on the Road Improvement Bill.’
‘He has an interest in that?’
‘Yes – and knows that I do, too.’ Adrian surveyed his guest meditatively. ‘We were unable to talk about last evening’s unexpected complication with Nick and Charles Fox accompanying us home and insisting on making a night of it. But if you want to do so now, I’m at your disposal.’
‘Thank you.’ Sebastian toyed abstractedly with his coffee cup and finally said slowly, ‘I’m under orders to call on Miranda today – though I’d have done so anyway to make it clear to her that there is no longer anything between us and never will be. Indeed, I’d have done it last night if I hadn’t suspected she might make a scene. But the fact that I didn’t isn’t likely to make today any easier.’
‘Did you not make matters clear to her in Lisbon?’
‘I thought so – along with a sapphire bracelet.’ He paused briefly. ‘But it’s worse now. Her husband is dead.’
‘Ah. That is a problem.’ Adrian leaned back in his chair. ‘Who is she exactly?’
‘Now? Lady Silvarez. Originally? I’ve no idea. She never spoke about what took her to Portugal in the first place or how she came to be married to Silvarez. At any rate, by the time I came along he was spending most of his time on his estate in Madeira. I never actually met the man – which is probably why I allowed myself to pretend he didn’t exist. At the time, she had me so bewitched I scarcely questioned it. Later I wondered if she’d somehow tricked him into marriage and he’d only realised it when it was too late. In any event, I doubt if I was her first lover – and I’d lay money that there have been numerous others since I left.’
‘Yet despite all this time apart, she still thinks you’ll marry her?’
‘That is my suspicion. The only thing I don’t understand is why, if she’s been widowed a year, she hasn’t already married someone else. You’ve seen her. She wouldn’t have found it very difficult. And the possibility that she’s been waiting for me to reappear is just too ludicrous to contemplate.’
‘Is it? You don’t believe she’s in love with you?’
‘I don’t believe she’s capable of loving anyone – though I am starting to wonder if I’ve become an obsession with her. After all, if she’s driven by ambition, she could do a hell of a lot better than me.’
‘From what I saw last night,’ grinned Adrian, ‘there are a good many young ladies who would disagree with that.’
‘Oh – for God’s sake!’ groaned Sebastian. ‘Don’t you think I’ve suf
fered enough? It was ghastly enough having to deal with those bloody girls without Nicholas and Charles passing a jolly hour twitting me about them.’
His lordship laughed. ‘You’re the latest novelty. It won’t last.’
‘I certainly hope not – or I may be tempted to slit my wrists. And only think! I’ve still got to run the gamut of the young bucks with their dares and wagers.’
‘You can begin on that at Sinclairs this evening.’
‘Lovely. I can’t wait.’ Sebastian stood up. ‘This morning however, I intend to visit my tailor and my bootmaker. Then I’ll present myself in Half Moon Street and attempt to convince Miranda once and for all that we have no future together; not as lovers and certainly not as husband and wife.’ He gave a wry grin. ‘She’ll probably throw things at my head. But so long as she takes no for an answer and stops trying to dig her hooks into me, it will be worth a few bruises.’
‘And I,’ responded Adrian, also rising, ‘am off to see how Caroline’s mother and sisters have settled into their new home in Twickenham. I left my man of business to find them a house and take care of all the details – but Caroline will want a personal report.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘With a bit of luck, the three of them will have got over their compulsion to curtsy every time they speak to me … and I hope to God they’ve run out of plum cake.’
* * *
At a little after three o’clock, Sebastian handed his card to Lady Silvarez’s servant. The man bowed and said, ‘Her ladyship is expecting you, sir. This way, if you please.’
Of course she’s expecting me. It wouldn’t cross her mind that I might not come. She thinks she has only to crook her finger and I’ll come running, he thought edgily. And I have done, damn it.
He was shown into a small, pleasantly-furnished parlour and the door closed softly behind him. For a moment or two, Miranda merely smiled at him from the sofa where she was reclining in a pose of graceful invitation and looking seductive enough to tempt any man with a pulse. Though formally gowned in an afternoon dress of pale blue tiffany styled to display her magnificent bosom to advantage, her mane of silver-gilt hair was loosely and suggestively tied in a narrow ribbon – a small fact which spoke volumes. Extending a lazy, beckoning hand and in a tone of complete satisfaction, she said, ‘Sebastian.’
