Disdaining his hand, she stood quickly. Too quickly, she realized, when the room threatened to telescope into blackness. She took carefully calculated steps toward the pier glass. As she stood in front of it, the dark mist slowly faded to reveal her bruised face topped by the stylish hat. Lord Windham was correct. It was perfect for her. The ribbons accented the color of her eyes, and the stylish brim shadowed the bruises on her face.
She started to comment, but the words vanished, unspoken, when the mirror revealed Lord Windham standing behind her. His breath warmed her nape as he murmured, “Very nice.”
For a moment, she was certain he had no idea how he threatened to overmaster her when he stood so close to her. Then, when she saw the hint of challenge in his smile, she knew he was acutely aware of every motion he made and how it affected those around him. She would not allow him to put her out of countenance with his pranks. When she faced him, she was amazed when he did not step away.
Boldly, he touched the fringe hanging from her sling. “I hope the damage to your arm can be dealt with as swiftly as your hat, Miss Dufresne.”
“As I told Mr. Windham, time will be the best healer.” Running her other hand along the fringe, she pushed his fingers aside in what she hoped would appear to be a casual motion. “To own the truth,” she added, as she turned away, “I wear this to satisfy my anxious abigail. She wishes to see me cosseted in bed with plenty of tea and cookies, as if I was still in short coats. I’d as lief wear this than suffer her distress.”
“You are wise.” He glanced toward the clock. “Forgive me, but I must end this fascinating meeting, Miss Dufresne. May we continue it at Mr. Rowland’s party tomorrow evening?”
“I am afraid not. I wasn’t invited.”
“Then allow me to rectify that.” He smiled as she opened her mouth to protest. “Don’t think me a ramshackle cove again. I assure you that I’m not. At least, not now. Rowland is having an open house for those who enjoy playing a few hands of cards. Do you find that a pleasant pastime?”
“Yes,” she said, then wished she had remained silent as he took her hand and bowed over it. His skin was not soft like Cole’s. Its coarse caress inspired a renewed pulse within her, not of pain, but a sensation as potent. She held her breath as she wondered would he be so brazen as to kiss her fingers as his brother had attempted and what she would do if he did?
Her worries were allayed when he raised his head. “My carriage and I are at your disposal, Miss Dufresne. Shall nine o’clock be convenient for me to call for you?”
Nerissa smiled. He must not guess how bewildered she felt. When had she lost control of the conversation? She must regain mastery of it and herself before Lord Windham called again. If she failed, she did not want to consider what the consequences might be.
Chapter Four
Rain splattered on the walkway when Nerissa emerged from the carriage. Drawing her shawl closer around the shoulders of her white muslin gown so it covered the lacy sling, she was glad she had left the lovely bonnet Lord Windham had given her yesterday at home. The white chip hat she wore tilted back on her head, revealing too many of the bruises on her face, she realized when a gentleman hurried past, then turned to regard her with an openmouthed gawk. He nearly collided with a wrought-iron fence before turning to vanish into the misty rain.
Nerissa took a deep breath and tried to force a smile. The motion hurt her face, so she gave up the attempt as she went to the door with its curved window above it in the center of Camden Crescent.
The Ehrlich family had lived in the elegant town house since shortly after it had been built. The tall columns along the first and second floor did not match the simplicity of the ground floor. As she stepped out of the rain, Nerissa smiled at the image of an elephant carved in the lintel. Such frivolity did not fit the fancy row of houses, but it suited Annis perfectly.
When the door was opened by a smiling major domo, she thought wistfully how wondrous it would be to be greeted each time she returned to Laura Place by such a friendly face. “Good afternoon, Cunliffe. Is Miss Annis at home this afternoon?”
“You know she is always home to you, Miss Dufresne.” The short, muscular man, who appeared as though he would be more comfortable in a boxing match than in the navy and scarlet livery of the Ehrlich family, opened the door wider. “I shall …”
Nerissa was not to find out what he planned to do, for his words ended in a strangled gurgle as she stepped into the broad entrance hall. With the light from the brass chandelier emphasizing the malevolent colors of her bruises, she was not surprised by his reaction.
He mumbled something and scurried away to find Annis. Touching the puffiness on her cheek, Nerissa sighed. She had no intention of staying hidden in her house until the outward signs of the accident healed.
On the street side of the foyer, small curtains bunched over the top of the tall windows, letting in what little light had oozed through the grey clouds. Two mirrors offered her the opportunity to check her appearance. One was hung between the windows; the other set over a small table placed next to a door that led to another corridor beyond and the servants’ stairs to the kitchen in the cellar. As she crossed the wooden floor with its inlaid pattern of circles and flowers, she avoided looking in the mirrors.
“Nerissa!” came a shout from the top of the curving stairs to the left. Annis Ehrlich ran down them at an indecorous pace.
Annis had the misfortune to resemble her dour-faced father instead of her glorious mother. With two older sisters who were the epitome of Mrs. Ehrlich’s beauty, Annis had accustomed herself to living in the shadow of their splendor. Not that she was not dainty of ankle or prettily spoken, but Annis’s drooping locks and plain features caused people—who did not look close enough—to fail to note her sweet smile and the twinkle of gaiety in her brown eyes.
From the moment Nerissa had been introduced to Annis, she had liked the woman who was nearly of her age. Annis had been kind and acquainted Nerissa with the many and oftentimes strange customs of Bath and its society which were as strict as the ton in London. When Annis had included Nerissa in parties hostessed by Annis’s recently married sister, she had helped Nerissa to meet the people who had dismissed Cole as not having a spark of spirit to brighten their conversations.
Dressed today in a muslin dress with bishop’s sleeves that were decorated with golden ribbons, she hurried forward to take Nerissa’s hands in slim fingers. Tears glittered in her wide eyes.
“Oh, my dearest Nerissa, look at you. You have fallen down and trodden on your eye.”
“It is rather black, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile as they walked up the stairs and into the cozy parlor which looked out over the street. She was glad when she discovered the room was empty. The rest of the Ehrlich family was troublesome at best, and Nerissa was honestly not at her most patient today.
Nerissa laughed as Annis cooed over her with dismay while ringing for tea. Lightly, Nerissa said, “I can vow that I look much worse than I feel today. If you had called yesterday, I could not have said the same.”
“Dear me, dear me, look at your face. It has put me quite to the stare. It’s nearly the purple shade of the ribbons on your gown. How long will you have to remain quiet before you can come for a ride with me again?” She put her hand to her full bosom. “Dear me, listen to me! How can I speak to you of plans for taking a ride when if we had gone in the carriage yesterday this would never have happened? What kind of friend abandons her dearest bosom bow to go for a walk alone and allows something like this to happen? I swear that I cried myself to sleep last night when Mama told me that you were hurt. If you wish for me to—”
Putting her fingers on Annis’s arm to interrupt her, Nerissa said soothingly, “Sit down, and stop babbling. You are making yourself overwrought over nothing. It was but an accident. It could have happened to anyone.”
“But it happened to you!” A sigh burst from her. “And ’tis all my doing.”
“Nonsense. It was none of your
doing. Lord Windham merely—”
“Lord Windham? Hamilton Windham?” Her eyes grew even wider. “He did this to you?”
Nerissa sat on a comfortable chair and smiled when Annis pushed an embroidered stool toward her. Setting her feet on it compliantly, she leaned back and said, “It was only an accident.”
“‘Wastrel Windam’ does nothing by accident, if one is to believe on dits.”
Nerissa’s brow furrowed, but she ignored the pain for the first time. “I find your words unseemly. The viscount was very gracious, Annis. It’s unlike you to speak unkindly of someone you don’t know.” She faltered, her coolness fading into uncertainty. “Or do you know him?”
“Only of him.” Annis wrung her hands as she perched on the edge of a green silk settee. “It was rumored he would wed Elinor Howe, who was the widow of his best friend.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “They were constantly together in London. Constantly together, if you understand what I mean.”
“I understand,” she answered emotionlessly.
“Then he set Mrs. Howe aside and came here to Bath. It was most mysterious. You should be grateful you escaped with only an abrased face, for he has made no attachment to any woman since, although he has kept company with many.”
She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. The words oddly disturbed her, for she had guessed Lord Windham to be a man of honor. Not that such habits would label him anything but a member of the ton. The flirtations they enjoyed were nothing like the quiet existence she knew with her brother.
“All I can say is that he was the perfect gentleman with me.”
“Gentleman maybe,” came a shrill voice from the doorway, “but I doubt if anyone—even you, Nerissa, in your charity—would call Lord Windham perfect.”
Nerissa had to struggle to keep from frowning. Janelle Ehrlich was the opposite of her sister. As lovely as the first morning of spring, she had a temper as fiery as August heat and a demeanor as unwelcome as a January sunset. Swaying into the room, her wrapper a delicate shade of pink to accent her golden hair, she dropped next to her sister. A servant followed, carrying a tea tray set for two. Janelle did not wait for the others, but helped herself to a cake and a cup of the steaming tea.
“Do you know the viscount?” Nerissa asked, offering Annis a smile when her friend handed her the other cup. She was glad Annis had seen how difficult it would be for her to pick up the cup.
“I have seen him at various gatherings,” Janelle said with a superior tilt of her pert nose. “He is a peculiar man, strikingly handsome, I will own, but interested only in those woman whose reputations have become questionable. Mayhap he wishes not to risk another disastrous liaison like the one with Elinor Howe.”
Annis laughed shortly. “Do not act so top-lofty, Janelle. You aren’t telling us anything that hasn’t been poker-talk since last year.” With a wink to her friend, she added in a stern tone, “I am sure Nerissa has no interest in hearing the viscount disparaged when he was kind enough to treat her graciously.”
Playing with the ribbons that accented the full curves beneath her wrapper, Janelle cooed, “Are you sure of that? Nerissa, you are positively agog with this, aren’t you? Did he knock all sense from your skull?”
“I know very little about the viscount, other than reading in the newspaper that he was in attendance at some of the soirées about Bath,” she had to own, although she hated giving Janelle the upper hand.
With another tilt of her round chin, Janelle laughed. “Oh, Nerissa, you are ever a goose! You are too much like Annis. You think some glorious knight on his white charger will come seeking your heart. You should as lief concentrate on finding a beau who will offer you a comfortable life and a family.”
“Like your Mr. Oakley?” Annis returned. “What did I hear Mama call him yesterday? Comfortably dull and well-fixed.”
“Mr. Oakley is a charming beau.” Rising, she set the cup back on the table. “Annis, you are so jealous of his attentions to me that you have become intolerable of late.”
As her sister flounced out of the room, every inch the wounded soul, Annis chuckled behind her hand. “She is welcome to her Mr. Oakley. He is not comfortably dull. He is just dull!” Taking a frosted cake from the plate, she sighed. “Of course, when Mama has succeeded in finding a husband for Janelle, she will turn her matchmaking eye upon me. I have heard her making plans to spend next Season in London. She despairs, I believe, of ever finding me a husband in Bath.” A dimple appeared in each cheek. “Mayhap because I have told her there is not one among the lot that I would consider.”
Nerissa lowered the teacup. The steam clawed her aching face. Balancing it on her lap, she asked, “Was what Janelle said true? Lord Windham seemed very much the gentleman both times I spoke with him.”
“Both times?” Annis’s eyes widened. “He has called on you?”
“Only to ascertain the state of my recovery.”
“Will he be calling again?”
Nerissa noted a shadow near the door of the parlor. No doubt, Janelle was eavesdropping, hoping to learn something she could repeat while sipping scandal broth with her friends. She would not give Annis’s sister that pleasure. Putting her cup on the table, she rose awkwardly.
Annis’s face grew long with dismay. “Nerissa, have I said something to disturb you? Or—and you must think me a beast to forget your injuries—are you in pain?”
“I am fine,” she lied, not wanting to reveal the truth. If it reached Frye’s ears, her abigail would insist that she remain in bed. “And, of course, you have said nothing to set up my bristles. I have a few errands to run. Would you like to join me?” She glanced toward the door again. “We can enjoy some private prittle-prattle while I shop.”
With a smile, Annis nodded. “Private, it shall be.”
A potpourri of pungent odors welcomed Nerissa as she and Annis entered a shop near the corner of Great Pulteney and William Streets. Her nose was tickled by bits of the various varieties of snuff that filled Mrs. Peach’s shop. As she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, she stared at the clay pots lining the shelves behind the counter.
Annis was surprisingly silent, as she had been since Nerissa had told her that Lord Windham was escorting her to a small party that evening at Mr. Rowland’s house. Annis had been scandalized by the invitation and shocked that Nerissa had accepted.
“He is rakehell, Nerissa,” she had gasped. “You will ruin your reputation being seen with him.”
“He has been nothing but a gentleman to me, and I could see nothing wrong with agreeing to go with him and his brother this evening.”
“Frye must be—”
“Frye is putting herself into a stew about everything at the moment.” Laughing, she patted her friend’s hand. “It is but one evening, and I know he wishes to atone for his thoughtlessness that caused the accident. Could I be so uncivil as to deny him that chance?”
Annis had scowled before replying, “I suppose not.” Those were the last words she had uttered.
Nerissa tried not to think of her friend’s dismay. Her thoughts should be on what she would purchase. It was useless, for she longed to beg Annis’s forgiveness. Her friend only worried that she was doing something jobbernowl.
The shopkeeper’s familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. She smiled as she greeted Mrs. Peach.
“Good day, Miss Ehrlich, Miss Dufresne,” said Mrs. Peach in her scratchy voice. She stared at Nerissa and choked, “Miss Dufresne!”
“It is nothing,” Nerissa answered as she had so many times.
“’Tis a shame,” grumbled the old woman, whose hands were stained from the snuff she sold.
“Soon it will be nothing but a memory and an amusing anecdote.”
The shopkeeper seemed unconvinced, but turned to speak to Annis. As she listened to her friend reply to the shopkeeper’s questions, Nerissa calculated how much she needed to buy and, more importantly, how much she could afford. She frowned as she tried to figur
e the total in her head.
“So down pinned?” asked a friendly voice behind her.
She smiled when Mr. Windham tipped his topper to her. His clothes were as usual à la modality. His coat was of the warmest russet shade and his nankeen pantaloons properly secured under his shoes. As he set his hat back on his head, the gold buttons on his coat flashed in the faint light from the lamp behind the counter.
“What a pleasant surprise!” she exclaimed.
“How kind of you to say that! May I return the kindness and say that it is grand to see you looking so hale?”
“I am glad you think so. Everyone else today has been too solicitous of my health.”
He chuckled. “You do not take coddling well, I collect.”
“She should be coddled after what she suffered!” Annis burst into the conversation and continued before Nerissa could warn her to watch her words. “When that profligate Lord Windham failed to watch where he was going, Nerissa was the one to suffer.”
“Annis …” Nerissa cautioned.
“You need not defend that ramshackle fellow, Nerissa,” her friend returned with fire. “I know he brought you back to Laura Place, but …” She turned to include Mr. Windham in her fury. “… he thinks to repair the damage with nothing more than an invitation to a rout. Nerissa could have been killed, although she is too generous to speak of it.”
Watching Mr. Windham’s face, which was for once as blank as his brother’s could be, Nerissa wished she could silence her friend. She knew how futile any attempt to quell Annis’s righteous rage would be.
“I am certain Lord Windham intended no harm to Miss Dufresne,” he said quietly.
“It matters little what he intended. Look at her!”
“I have been,” he said, his smile returning, “and I am pleased to see her looking so well. Miss Dufresne, would you be so kind as to introduce me to your friend?”
Nerissa took a deep breath to steady her voice, then said, “Miss Annis Ehrlich, this is Mr. Philip Windham, Lord Windham’s brother.”
The Fortune Hunter Page 5
