The earl shook his head slowly. “N-No.”
“He is the man who wrote The Monk, Geordan.”
“R-Really?” The earl’s dark blue eyes widened considerably as he stared at Lewis. “That was the m-most ex-ex-citing b-book.”
“Not as exciting as watching yourself and that magnificent stallion,” said Lewis seriously. “I thought for a moment that you had come straight from the pages of a novel yourselves.”
“N-No,” replied the earl with a little frown, “we c-come from W-Westerley.”
“His lordship, Monk, has a very literal mind at times,” chuckled Lord Mapleton, who had wandered up to the little group in time to hear Lewis’s comment and Geordan’s reply. “Come with me, Geordie, there is someone else who wishes to make your acquaintance. You will excuse us, gentlemen?” Lord Mapleton put an arm around the earl’s shoulders and ushered him gently toward the far end of the room, leaving Tony, Brummell and Lewis to stare after them.
“M-Max,” the earl whispered as they crossed the floor, “I have g-got to s-speak to you alone.”
“You do, Geordie? Is it about Tony?”
“Y-Yes.”
“We are all doing our best to throw him and Amelia together.”
“It is n-not about that. It is m-much more im-im-portant.”
“More important than getting Tony married? Well, we shall have to have a secret meeting, then, don’t you think, Geord? I tell you what. I must just dance once with Amy, and then I shall be free for the evening. I will come and get you and we will go off to my library and close everyone out.”
“All right,” the earl nodded. “M-Max?”
“What, Geordie?”
“You w-won’t forget, will you? It r-really is im-portant.”
“I will not forget, scamp, I promise. Here is the gentleman who wishes to meet you,” he added as they arrived before a heavy-set, lavishly clothed gentleman with light brown curls. “Your Royal Highness, may I present Geordan Talbot, Lord Rutlidge. Geordan, this is the Prince Regent.”
Geordan’s nonchalant offer of a handshake was accepted with a gracious smile and a reassuring nod at Mapleton. “Do you know what that means—Prince Regent?” asked that royal gentleman, keeping hold of the earl’s hand and leading him to a chair.
“It m-means you are im-por-tant,” Geordie replied.
“Well,” grinned the Regent, “I am glad someone thinks I am important. You are definitely in the minority, Geordie. I may call you Geordie, may I not? Max tells me you do not much like being lorded all over the place.”
“Y-Yes, sir,” Geordan said, tapping the back of his heel against the chair leg and fidgeting with his hands, which would not fit into his pockets when he was sitting up so very straight.
“No, you do not call me sir. You must call me George, because I do not like to be your highnessed and sirred all over the place either. When you first came to London, you were invited to dine with me at Carlton House. Why did you not come?”
“I, I did n-not know,” Geordan murmured, his eyes studying the toes of his pumps nervously. “I c-cannot r-read invitations, and T-Tony did n-not tell me. Tony does n-not like to always be g-going out to d-dinner. Are you a f-friend of Tony’s?”
“No, I am afraid we have not met more than once or twice, but I am a friend of Max’s. I wanted to tell you, Geordie, that we saw you rescue that young lady in the Park yesterday and were very much impressed.”
“D-Did everyone in the world see?” Geordan asked with some exasperation. “N-No wonder T-Tony said I might do it. He d-did not want everyone to s-see him d-do it.”
“Oh? And does Tony ride as well as you? I had no idea.”
“W-Well, he is n-not as, as, w-wild as me and Mouse b-but that is because he d-does not ride so m-much any, anymore.”
“Mouse?” the prince asked. “Who is Mouse?”
“Oh, that is my horse’s n-name.”
“What? That fierce monster is called Mouse?”
Geordan’s gaze finally lifted from the tip of his toes to confront the royal countenance. “Y-Yes, and it is a p-perfectly g-good name for him, too. He is f-frightened of the s-stupidest things, l-like b-brooms and b-bells and k-kittens. Everyone thinks he is so fierce, but he is n-not. He is a b-big b-baby!”
“I see,” laughed the prince. “Will you come to dine with me some day, Geordie? I should enjoy it extremely. You may bring your brother if you like. I promise we will have a very good time.”
“I w-will think about it,” Geordie nodded. Just then the countess pounced upon them and glaring down her nose at the Prince Regent, suggested that her elder son was needed elsewhere. “I do not mean to be unkind, my dear,” she addressed the prince, “but they are going to play a waltz and I am determined that the first waltz I dance in London will be with Geord.” Whereupon she led the earl out onto the dance floor, and when the music began waltzed off with him so gracefully that the rest of the dancers wondered if they were actually dancing the same steps.
Talbot, who had managed by some quirk of fate to obtain Miss Mapleton’s hand for the same dance, watched his mother and brother wistfully as they circled by, and sighed a little.
“They dance beautifully together, do they not, Mr. Talbot?”
“Yes, Miss Mapleton. But then my mother has always been an exceptional dancer. There is no one with her sense of style who has graced any floor I have ever trod upon.”
“No one?”
“No one. Miss Mapleton, how is it, may I ask, that you happened to have this dance free? I should have thought you have been asked by every gentleman in the room before I ever reached your side.”
“Well, I was promised to Lord Eliot,” Amelia replied, a slight frown crossing her pretty face, “but he seems to have disappeared. I have not seen him for at least half an hour.”
“How dull-witted to mislay himself,” Talbot grinned. “You are, tonight, the most beautiful young lady in the room. The man must have been mad to have missed such an appointment.”
Miss Mapleton’s eyes flashed questioningly into his. “Are you teasing me, Mr. Talbot”
“No, ma’am, I am not. The longer I know you, the more beautiful you become. It has naught to do with your cheekbones or your hair or your dress. I have often danced with pretty women, but never one whose beauty shone so brightly from within. You are a diamond of the first water, Amelia.”
Miss Mapleton, after the scolding she had given him in the Park and his studied avoidance of her for many days before that, was not expecting such praise from him and gave an amazed little whistle, then gasped at herself. Talbot broke into laughter. “Yes, I know. Amazing, is it not? When my lips first parted, I had no idea I was about to say such things.”
“Now that is more like you.”
“Yes, well, perhaps it is the heat, or perhaps we are spinning so much that I am getting dizzy. I do get dizzy, you know. Geordie and Mr. Trevithick proved that to me.”
“How so, Mr. Talbot?”
“Why, they had me riding round and round behind that little engine of his until… never mind, Miss Mapleton.”
As they continued to spin in time to the music, Viscount Eliot attempted between violent explosions of laughter to escape from the Mapletons’ music room, where Kit had lured him with promises of the sight and feel of his father’s newest set of duelling pistols, and David, Northampton and Bristol had combined to keep him penned inside. “But we cannot set you free yet, Eliot,” David explained, leaning against the closed door. “Father would have our heads if we did.”
“Rot, David! Your father knows nothing about this.”
“Well, no,” Kit said, standing guard at the balcony windows, “but he would have our heads if he did know and we had let you out before the waltz ended.”
“It is your own fault, Darcy,” Bristol said. “I have hinted to you forever to back off from Miss Mapleton. You know I have.”
“You ain’t the least serious about her,” Northampton added. “Couldn’t be. She ain’t your t
ype.”
“You are all mad,” Eliot laughed. “She is promised to me for this dance. Do you want her to be left standing.”
“Oh, she will not be left standing, Eliot,” David assured him. “We have sent a replacement.”
It was two dances later that Max appeared at the earl’s side. Geordan, mesmerized by the conversation of the golden-haired Miss Lydia Clinton, took no notice of him. That gentleman had to tap the earl’s shoulder and whisper in his ear before the great blue eyes tore themselves away from the young lady and fastened on Amelia’s father. “Now would be the time, Geordie, to talk,” Max said.
“Oh, y-yes. I am s-sorry, Lydie. I n-need to g-go now.”
Bestowing upon her a brief bow, Lord Mapleton escorted the earl from the ballroom and into his library. “Like something to drink, Geord?” he asked, motioning the earl into a chair by the fire. “I just happen to have some lemonade here.”
“I w-would like b-brandy, please.”
“Oh, Geordan, I don’t know.” Mapleton hesitated. “I do not think your mama would be happy with me if I poured you a brandy.”
“P-Please, Max? Just a l-little. I am so very t-tired of always b-being treated like a b-baby.”
“You have never been treated like a baby, scoundrel,” Max frowned, pouring himself a brandy and splashing a bit into a second glass. “For as long as we have known each other, you have been expected to do each and every thing you are capable of without being allowed any excuses at all. That is not how babies are treated. What you are is loved, Geord. And this much I will let you have, but no more.” He handed the second glass to the earl and took a chair next to him. “Now, what is this all about?”
“Max, you did n-not murder Papa, d-did you?”
“What?” Lord Mapleton jerked his gaze from the lazy fire and fastened it amazedly on the earl. “No! Geordie, where did you get such an idea?”
“Well, I d-did not thing so, b-but I thought I ought t-to ask. Tony has been r-reading Papa’s j-journals, and you are in them. And T-Tony thinks you are the one who m-murdered Papa.”
Mapleton took a sip of his brandy with a slightly shaking hand. “Your father wrote about me in his journals?”
“N-Not your name. He c-calls you J-Justice.”
“Oh, devil take it! Geordie, that is my name in certain circles.”
“Y-Yes, I g-guessed. I mean, I g-guessed that you were J-Justice. B-Because of the t-times, you know. There were n-notes about when to m-meet Justice and where. And I remembered s-some of them, and the m-man Papa met was you. So I asked T-Tony to r-read about, about when Papa b-bought Henry. And r-right after that there w-was writing about Justice c-coming to W-Westerley at n-night and w-wounded, and Papa t-taking him to m-my c-cave.”
“And then you were certain that Justice and I were the same person,” groaned Max.
“Y-Yes, and T-Tony has been l-looking for you all over London. He even has B-Bear and C-Coffee looking for you at all the g-gatherings.”
“You did not tell him, Geord, that Justice and I are the same person?”
The earl shook his head emphatically. “Papa t-told me a long t-time ago that what you d-did was very d-dangerous and that I should n-not even t-tell Mama that you ever c-came to Westerley in s-secret. B-But Tony will n-not stop l-looking for you. He rides out v-very late and t-takes his p-pistols. I am a-a-fraid that s-something will h-happen to him.”
“Yes, and well you might be, Geord. There are a great many men out there who would not think twice about murdering Tony should they discover he is the Earl of Rutlidge’s brother.”
The earl nodded in agreement, taking a very small sip of the brandy. “Mama and Uncle James t-told me there are a l-lot of b-bad people in London, especially at n-night. That is why I m-must not g-go anywhere alone.”
“And they are right, Geord. Well, I shall have to see what can be done. We cannot have Tony putting himself in such danger.”
“Could you n-not just t-tell him you d-did not murder Papa? He will b-believe you, Max.”
“Perhaps, Geordan. I must think about it for a bit. Will you go back to the ballroom without me, please? I do not think I am ready to be a smiling host just at this very moment.”
The earl took another sip of the brandy, then went to set the glass on the table that held a series of decanters.
“Thank you, Geord,” Mapleton said as the earl started for the door. “Do not worry any more about it, all right? I will take care of everything and I will not let anything happen to Tony.”
“Thank you,” the earl said very softly, and then he left the library, closing the door quietly behind him.
Lord Mapleton stood and began to pace the room. This was a complication he never expected. “What the devil am I going to do?” he muttered to himself. He had no idea what Daniel had written in his wretched journals, but he had undoubtedly written enough to make it apparent that Justice had been involved in his death. He could not explain to Tony what had happened to the boys’ father without betraying a confidence he had sworn to hold sacred. And Tony was not Geordan. Tony was not likely to accept his word without an explanation.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
LYDIA and Pamela Clinton, who had been invited to Miss Mapleton’s ball immediately after Amelia had discovered their arrival in London, appeared to be enjoying the entertainment as much as anyone. “It was so kind of you to include us,” Lady Clinton thanked Lady Mapleton from behind her lace fan. “It is hard on the girls to have come so late to town, for they have had very little chance to make suitable acquaintances as yet and the height of the Season is almost upon us.”
“I should not worry, Miriam,” replied Lady Mapleton with a glance at the dance floor. “Lydia will never be without beaux come she ever so late, and Pamela grows more striking every year. I have heard she has received an offer from Farthingale.”
“Indeed. He is the most delightful young man. Five thousand a year from his estates alone. I am sure Pamela will accept. They deal very well together.”
Lady Mapleton thought that Pamela would deal very well with any gentleman having five thousand a year from his estates alone, and nodded wisely. She and Miriam Clinton had grown up near one another in Sussex, and thought they had not been great friends, they had always been companionable acquaintances. “I think,” she said, “that Lydia will receive many offers. The girl is more lovely each time I lay eyes upon her.”
“Yes, but she is so terribly hen-witted,” sighed her mother. “I am inclined at times to wonder where it is her mind goes when she meets a gentleman. Do you know she has been eternally and unalterably in love with ten gentlemen within the past year, and that without having set foot in London? Who is that gentleman, Catherine? The very angelic one with the auburn curls. Whatever can Lydia be doing to sit with him so long? I cannot recall having seen him before, though Lydia seems to know him.”
“Have you not met? That is Cecily Talbot’s eldest son.”
“Lord Rutlidge? How comes Lydia to know him? Catherine, is he not the one who was so badly injured when a child? Why, I would have thought him crippled for life from such an accident. I am amazed at the sight of him. Such a pleasing countenance! Now, how could Lydia have come to meet him?”
“Did the girls not tell you then?”
“Tell me what?”
“Why, that Lydia’s horse ran off with her yesterday in Hyde Park. It was Geordan who stopped the beast and took Lydia home in his mother’s carriage.”
“What? Run away with again? I declare, that child is the most inept horsewoman ever birthed. And it is a crime, too, for she would look so lovely on horseback had she any confidence whatsoever. I was at Madame Estelle’s, I expect, when they arrived home. And they would not have said a word of it to me, for Lydia is so ashamed that she cannot ride well. Does Lord Rutlidge not dance?” she asked. “He really is quite enchanting.”
Lady Mapleton knew well enough how enchanting the earl would become if the amount of his yearly income should reach Miriam’s
ears. “I believe he waltzes but does not care for the country dances. Oh, here comes Lydia to introduce him to you, my dear. What a good girl she is.”
Geordan, who under Lydia’s tutelage on the other side of the room had practiced the words over and over, bowed elegantly, carried the gloved fingertips to his lips and said, “Good evening, Lady Clinton. How nice to make your acquaintance.”
No sooner had he pronounced the final word than Lydia piped up: “Miss Mapleton and Lord Rutlidge’s brother have invited us to join them for a walk in the garden, Mama. It is decorated with Chinese paper lanterns, and it is not so very cold. May I go, please?”
Lady Clinton glanced at Lady Mapleton and, receiving a small nod of assuring tat meant the paths were brightly lit and that there was no danger of anything untoward happening, agreed to the plan, and Miss Lydia and the earl hurried to the doorway where Amelia and Tony awaited them.
Once in the garden, Talbot slowed his steps to match Amelia’s, which compelled them to drop behind the other two for a short way. “Why are you so slow, Miss Mapleton? Are your feet hurting?” Talbot asked with a faint snicker. “I would have thought you to have a great deal more stamina than that.”
“I will have you know, Mr. Talbot, that I have not been standing about, leaning my shoulders against the wall all evening long as has someone amongst us. I have danced every dance.”
“I applaud you, my dear. Touché!”
“And no, my feet do not hurt. I merely thought it better to give Geordie and Lydia a little privacy.”
“Amelia, I did not come out here with the intention of giving Geord any privacy. That, in fact, is exactly what I came out here to deprive him of.”
“Men,” sighed Miss Mapleton, “you are all alike. Do you not understand, Mr. Talbot, that if they are to get to know each other better, they must have a chance to speak freely without being hemmed about by interested parties?”
“Exactly. And I do not wish them to get to know each other better, so we had best walk a bit faster.”
Amelia's Intrigue (Regency Idyll Book 1) Page 23
