Lord Carlton’s Courtship

by Alexandra Ivy

  Four

  “What?” Roma blinked in startled disbelief, quite certain she had misunderstood the preemptive words. Not even this insufferable man was arrogant enough to presume he could blithely give commands to a woman he barely knew.

  But, shockingly, his expression remained one of adamant determination.

  “I want you to put an end to your efforts and leave matters in my hands,” he retorted in firm tones.

  “That is absurd. I will do no such thing.”

  “Come, Miss Allendyle. Even you must agree that it is for the best.”

  “I fail to comprehend why.”

  “Do you?” A hateful brow rose in mild reproach. “Unlike you, my dear, I do happen to possess the type of political power necessary to gain an interview with members of the War Department. But more importantly, I have contact with several gentlemen who can be trusted to make inquiries in a … discreet fashion.”

  “Even if that is true, Lord Carlton, I still fail to understand why you should insist on involving yourself in affairs that are not of your concern.”

  An odd smile tugged at his fine lips. “Let us say that while I am unacquainted with William I feel a sense of responsibility for his welfare. Not only did we both serve in the field of battle, but we have both chosen to continue our service to our country in a like manner. It is my duty.”

  Roma frowned. As the daughter of a military man, she understood the dictates of duty and honor to any soldier. Her father had drilled the meaning of them into both of his children since the day they were born. That didn’t, however, ease her wary suspicion.

  “That is very kind of you, my lord, but you have no duty to William. He is my brother and therefore my responsibility.”

  The blue eyes flashed. “You know, Miss Allendyle, for a lady who claims to be so determined to find her brother, you are remarkably reluctant to accept assistance,” he drawled. “I can only wonder if it is all assistance you find so abhorrent or my own particular assistance.”

  As was becoming all too frequent in Lord Carlton’s presence, Roma felt herself blush in confusion. He was right, of course. She should be delighted by his offer to help search for her brother. After all, he was far better qualified to approach those with knowledge of William’s covert assignments. And certainly, she had accomplished little more than fluttering about London like a witless fool.

  If only the mere thought of meekly conceding to his high-handed interference did not set her teeth on edge …

  “I suppose I am simply accustomed to depending upon my own resources,” she reluctantly conceded. “It is not easy to admit that I require help.”

  “Even for your brother’s sake?”

  A sharp, frustrated sigh hissed between her tight lips. “You are right, my lord,” she forced herself to mutter. “I could use your assistance.”

  “There … That was not so difficult, was it, Miss Allendyle?” he questioned softly, his tone laced with amusement.

  A ripple of exasperation crossed her expressive countenance before she managed to leash her emotions. Must he make the situation so intolerable? It was vile enough to admit she was in need of assistance without his annoying mockery.

  “May I inquire what it is you intend to do?”

  His shrug was nonchalant. “First I shall endeavor to discover who was in contact with William before his disappearance. There must be someone who kept track of his movements.”

  “And then?”

  His lips tilted at her impatient words. “I will make that decision when the time comes, Miss Allendyle. For now I suggest that we make our way back to your aunt’s. She is no doubt impatiently awaiting your return.” His glance at her delicate features was wry. “I must not forget that you are a young debutante and that I must behave as a proper gentleman.”

  For no reason that she could imagine, her absurd color only deepened. “I care for nothing more than the safe return of my brother, Lord Carlton.”

  “Then you are a fool, Miss Allendyle,” he chided in light tones, giving an imperious lift of his hand that brought his groom scurrying back to the carriage to return the reins to his long, slender fingers.

  With a smoldering glare at his arrogant profile, Roma tossed herself back into the soft leather of the seat. Odious creature. Did he have to take such great delight in vexing her?

  Barely noting the elegant duke who rode past on his notable white horse or the flamboyant courtesan who was attired in a most shockingly cut satin gown, Roma brooded on the ease with which her wings had been neatly trimmed. She had been so staunchly determined to rid herself of Lord Carlton’s pesky presence. Why only this morning she had rehearsed the icily composed speech that would put an end to his interference. But rather than delivering the speech in a coolly composed manner, she had instead found herself conceding to his demands that he take control of the search for her brother. It was obvious she had at last encountered a will that matched her own. A rare occurrence for a headstrong young lady accustomed to having her own way.

  Her dark thoughts were at last interrupted by a warm chuckle that returned her attention to the gentleman at her side.

  “You realize, Miss Allendyle, that if you continue to sulk in that unpleasant fashion you will have my reputation in complete ruin?” he pointed out, favoring her with his roguish smile. “If it becomes known that a ride through the park induces nothing more than a fit of the blue devils in my companion, I shall never discover another maiden willing to bear me company.”

  Roma favored him with a glare, but she did settle her features into a less petulant expression.

  “I have no doubt, my lord, that it would take more than a fit of the blue devils to convince most maidens you are an unsuitable companion. From all reports you are considered the catch of the Season.”

  His laugh was thoroughly spontaneous. “You needn’t sound so disapproving, my dear. As I am sure you are aware my attractions have more to do with my estate than my dubious charm.”

  Roma would have liked to agree. After all, she was the last woman who wanted to admit that Lord Carlton had even a single desirable quality. But her innate sense of honesty could not be thoroughly suppressed.

  How could she not acknowledge that he was remarkably handsome? she grudgingly allowed. He was the image of every young lady’s dreams, with his finely chiseled features, his wide, intelligent brow, his astonishingly blue eyes and satiny dark hair. And no woman could possibly be indifferent to the muscular form set off to perfection in the tailored coat and pantaloons. But perhaps it was the hint of boyish amusement in his smile that was his most captivating feature.

  Abruptly aware of the direction of her absurd thoughts, Roma laced her fingers tightly in her lap.

  “I am sure you are mistaken, my lord,” she forced herself to confess.

  “My, my, Miss Allendyle, you shall quite turn my head,” he teased. “Are you suggesting that I might possess more to attract an eligible maiden than a title and a vast estate?”

  She caught her breath at his light words and frantically searched for some means of diverting the conversation. No doubt Lord Carlton was a master at such frivolous flirtations. She, however, was finding the banter increasingly unnerving.

  “I … I believe your estate is in Kent, my lord?”

  He regarded her for a long, amused moment before following her lead. “Yes, indeed. And while I am no doubt partial, I believe it is a fine house and set on some of the most beautiful countryside to be found in England.”

  Roma was rather taken back by the sincerity in his tone. She had somehow expected such a rake to be indifferent to the land that provided him such a life of ease. But it was obvious he felt a great attachment to his home.

  “Do you spend much time there?”

  “Not as much as I would like. My grandmother prefers to remain in London, and I dislike leaving her for any extended duration.”

  “I do not comprehend how anyone could prefer London,” she muttered, glancing about the crowded park.
/>   “Surely you have taken some enjoyment from you brief visit?”

  “I will own that I have enjoyed the theater and our visit to the museum,” she reluctantly conceded, “but I far prefer the comforts of Greystead.”

  His glance was quizzical. “You do not find it dull?”

  An unconscious sparkle entered her eyes. “Not at all. I have my horses and garden to tend, as well as a household to manage. I also have a number of friends who keep me suitably entertained.”

  “And you want for nothing more stimulating?”

  She ignored the tiny twinge in the vicinity of her heart. What did it matter if she had occasionally felt a wave of loneliness? Or that in more vulnerable moments she had wondered if her desire for independence was worth the cost of a husband and children? It was no concern of Lord Carlton.

  “I am perfectly content,” she said in tones perhaps a trifle more firm than necessary.

  “You are a most uncommon young lady, Miss Allendyle.”

  She swiftly glanced at the dark profile, but it was impossible to determine if he meant the words as a compliment or an insult.

  “Not so very uncommon, my lord,” she denied.

  A congestion of riders and carriages near the gate momentarily consumed Lord Carlton’s attention, and it was not until they were free of the throng and headed down the street toward her aunt’s home that he was able to resume their conversation. Turning to regard her pale profile, he allowed the wicked amusement to be replaced by a stern expression.

  “Before I return you home, Miss Allendyle, I should make perfectly certain that we understand one another. Do I have your promise not to do anything foolish until I have contacted you?”

  Roma instantly bristled at the condescending tone. “I have promised to allow you to do the questioning for now, my lord.”

  “And you will behave as a proper young debutante with nothing more on her mind than attracting a suitable husband?”

  “That is absurd.”

  With a tug on the reins he brought the bays to a smooth halt in front of her door. “Your promise, Miss Allendyle,” he said in stern tones, his narrowed gaze piercing deep into her affronted eyes.

  “You have no right, sir.”

  “Perhaps not, but I will have your promise.”

  She glared at him for a long, silent moment; then, with grudging reluctance, she gave a tight nod of her head. What choice did she have if she wished to locate William?

  “Very well, my lord, I promise to do my best to behave as any other debutante until you contact me.”

  “No dashing about London in male clothing or getting yourself shot?”

  “I have given you my promise,” she gritted out.

  “Good girl. I knew I could depend upon you to see sense.”

  Roma resisted the urge to poke out her tongue in a childish fit of fury. Instead she rapidly rose to her feet and clambered out of the carriage before the groom or Lord Carlton could assist. One day, she silently promised herself, she would take great pleasure in knocking that smug smile from his handsome face. Until that day she would simply have to bite her tongue and pray that William would soon turn up.

  She had almost reached the door when Lord Carlton managed to catch up with her, and reaching out a hand, he firmly grasped her fingers and lifted them to his warm lips.

  “Thank you, Miss Allendyle, for a most delightful afternoon. Be assured that I will call on you very soon.”

  “My lord.” She inclined her head in a stiff manner and then swept through the door being opened by the butler. Behind her, she could hear a soft chuckle floating through the air as Lord Carlton watched her rigid retreat.

  Infuriated by the entire encounter, Roma wanted nothing more than to retire to her room and repair the damage to her composure. She could already feel the twinges of an oncoming headache. Unfortunately the door to the drawing room swept open just as she placed her foot on the bottom step, and her aunt bustled out to regard her in an odd manner.

  “Ah … There you are, my dear. Would you be so good as to join me for a few moments?”

  Surprised by the request, Roma allowed herself one last longing glance up the stairs; then, drawing in a deep breath, she turned to make her way into the small but neatly furnished room. There was nothing for it but to hear her aunt out. Although a sweet, rather complacent woman, Lady Clara Welford could be decidedly tenacious when she chose. Some might claim it was a trait that ran in the family.

  Crossing the daintily printed carpet Roma settled herself on a yellow brocade sofa. The scent of freshly cut flowers filled the room, reminding her that she had not even bothered to thank Lord Carlton for his bouquet of roses. Not that she regretted her oversight, she thought with a flare of annoyance. The man was a complete scoundrel.

  With an effort, Roma gathered her scattered thoughts and turned to regard the plump, silver-haired woman who was standing beside the large marble fireplace.

  “How was your shopping?” she inquired, recalling her aunt’s remarks over breakfast.

  “Quite vexing, I fear,” she retorted in flustered tones, her round face uncommonly flushed.

  Roma raised her brows in surprise. “Oh?”

  “Yes, indeed.” Lady Welford sniffed. “Colette promised quite distinctly that she would have my new morning gown finished today. Not only was it not completed, but she had sold that charming bonnet I had set my heart on purchasing.”

  “How unfortunate.”

  “Now I shall have nothing new to wear when we visit the Cadiz Memorial.”

  Roma swallowed a smile, knowing that her aunt was far more interested in parading her latest gown than in viewing the cannon captured from the French in Salamanca.

  “Quite vexing indeed.”

  Clara gave a distracted tug at the modest neckline of her Pamona green gown. “And as if that were not trying enough I encountered Lady Powell while I was taking my tea.”

  Familiar with the large, overly opinionated Lady Powell, Roma gave an unconscious grimace. Although she had only met the woman on a handful of occasions, she had developed a swift dislike for her piercing voice and habit of presuming she had the right to meddle in other’s affairs. Still, attempting to halt her interference was rather like attempting to halt a battleship in full sail.

  “How is Lady Powell? In good health I trust?” she forced herself to inquire.

  “Ha.” Aunt Clara looked as if she had just eaten a sour grape. “That woman is an insufferable busybody. And how she dares to offer me advice on how to introduce a young lady to Society is beyond me.”

  Realizing that they had at last come to the reason for her aunt’s distress, Roma slowly leaned forward.

  “I presume she was referring to me?”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She had the nerve to suggest that we were dangling after Lord Carlton,” Clara stated in tones of outrage.

  Roma’s cheeks heated with color. “Lord Carlton?”

  “Yes, have you ever heard such nonsense? As if I would throw an innocent young lady to the attentions of a known rake. Why, it is well known he can not abide debutantes who, as he says, ‘still smell of the schoolroom and barley water.’ Besides which, I am well aware that any man of Lord Carlton’s rank is above our touch.” She flashed Roma an apologetic smile at the younger woman’s strangled a cough. “Not that we have any apology to make for our lineage, mind you, but I am no encroacher with an aim to push myself where I don’t belong.”

  “No, of course not,” Roma managed to choke out.

  “But, unfortunately, we can not wholly discount Lady Powell’s vicious tongue,” the older woman grudgingly conceded. “It would not do to appear as if we were angling to entrap Lord Carlton.”

  Entrap? Dangle after? Roma gritted her teeth in frustration. If only they knew the truth.

  “Do not worry, Aunt Clara. I assure you that I have no intention of dangling after Lord Carlton. Indeed, I have no intention of dangling after any
man.”

  The steel in her tone brought an instant flare of regret to Clara’s countenance. “Well, my dear, I did not mean to imply that we should not seek out the attentions of more suitable gentleman. After all, there are any number of charming parti to chose from.”

  Rising to her feet, Roma came to the decision that she had endured quite enough for one day. First to be practically kidnapped by the odious Lord Carlton, and then to be lectured on dangling after him—it was more than any reasonable woman should have to endure.

  “No doubt. Now, if you will excuse me, I seem to have developed a most shocking headache.”

  “Let me call my maid.” Clara was instantly concerned. “She has the most wonderful way with lavender water.”

  “No, thank you. I think a few hours of rest is what I need.”

  “Of course, my dear. I am sorry if I distressed you.”

  “Not at all.” Roma smiled in weary fashion, then crossed the room and went toward the stairs.

  What a vexing turn of events. It was bad enough to endure the knowledge that Lord Carlton had shrewdly managed to outwit her and had force her into making such a ridiculous promise. Now she was forced to realize that she was the subject of amused speculation among the tabbies. And it was all the fault of that … that man.

  Virtually stomping up the long flight of stairs, Roma entered her room and closed the door with a decided bang.

  Drat Lord Carlton, she silently seethed. Drat, drat, drat.

  Five

  “You understand Giles this is a very … delicate situation?”

  “Of course.” Taking a reluctant drink of the potent gin the barmaid had recently slapped onto the table, Giles gave a covert glance about the shadowed room. Although it was not yet five o’clock a loud, growingly boisterous crowd lined the tables and filled the air with laughter and an occasional off-key song. The scent of stale liquor and unwashed bodies assaulted Giles sensitive nose, and he barely prevented himself from shivering in distaste each time one of the locals drunkenly stumbled against him. But despite the unsavory surroundings, he realized that Lord Halcott had chosen the perfect location for their secret meeting. Not only would this gin house be the last place anyone would suspect two such prestigious aristocrats to willingly frequent, but there was enough noise and confusion to prevent anyone from taking an inordinate amount of interest in their private conversation. “You know I would not ask unless it was vitally important?”