“If it sat on a plate with a fork, I’d have to fight you for it,” he retorted in fun.
Beyond the Music Room lay the first of two reception rooms. Larissa carried a glimmer of a hope she might find a morsel to eat and scanned the melee for a circulating servant with a loaded tray in hand.
“If I cannot find at least something to drink, I shall probably faint,” Larissa admitted.
Sir Randall sidled up to her, running his hands up her arms and holding her upright. “Then I shall make sure you remain steady.”
She tried to wrench out of his hold. “I’d prefer you let me fall to the floor and allow the guests to tread upon me.”
“I shan’t allow any such thing to happen, my sweet.” He bent to whisper in her ear, “Besides, my uncle would have me thrashed within an inch of my life if any harm should befall you.”
“Your concern is overwhelming,” Larissa remarked. “You may unhand me.”
Sir Randall scowled. “I wouldn’t hear of it. Can’t have you toppling over in the midst of the guests. It would make a most dreadful scene. Things are muddled enough as they are, don’t you agree?”
Larissa remained silent, but the stormy expression on her face told him she was not pleased. She needed a diversion to keep her mind off her stomach.
“Look there, the duchess is approaching to lead the group to see her diamond,” Sir Randall pointed out.
“If there isn’t anything to eat, I suppose we might as well see it,” Larissa sighed. She took Sir Randall’s arm and fell in line with the others.
Lady Norfolk led five couples upstairs, down the hall, and into a room. Within a glass box the Briolette diamond hung on a sizable gold chain.
The diamond was very large, elongated in shape, about the length of Randall’s pinkie finger, and completely faceted.
“The diamond is over ninety carats in size and once belonged to Eleanor of Aquitaine, who acquired it while married to her first husband, Louis VII of France,” the Duchess of Norfolk explained. “She gave it to her son, Richard the Lionheart, who used it to pay his release from the Emperor of Austria.”
Randall could see the onlookers’ heads move from side to side trying to glimpse this sizable chunk of history. He also noticed most of them, at one time or another, staring at him and Larissa, sizing them up as well.
The duchess continued, “It disappeared then resurfaced in the 1500s when Henri II of France presented it to his mistress, Diane de Poitiers. I am proud to say I have recently purchased it and brought it back to England, its original home.”
The guests gave a round of polite applause before descending the staircase and returning to the Great Room.
“Not to distract from the piece de resistance of the evening,” Randall whispered to Larissa, “but I could not help but notice there was more attention paid to us than to Her Grace of Norfolk’s necklace.”
If Larissa had been paying more attention to the people around her instead of to the rumblings of her empty stomach, she might have realized the same. She could see the pointed glances of the guests and nearly hear the waggling of their tongues. The stately posture of a servant in the next room caught her eye, distracting her from the gossiping guests.
“I think I see someone with a tray,” she said to Sir Randall. “I’m going to see for myself. Don’t leave without me.”
“No, I shan’t, but you best not go alone,” he called to her. It wasn’t a moment later when someone came careening into him.
“Excuse me!” Lady Dorothea could probably have avoided bumping into Randall. Her hands moved below the front of his waistband and slowly slid up to their final resting place on his chest. “Such a sad crush, don’t you agree?”
With a stern facade and with great care, Randall took hold of her wrists and removed her hands from his person. “Yes, it is.”
Dorothea glanced away before blinking her beautiful blue eyes at him. “I would like to apologize for my rude behavior this afternoon.”
“You, rude?” Randall gave a gracious, understanding smile. “Not at all. I think you’ll find things will have worked for the best.”
“You have the right of it, Sir Randall. I have all confidence that things will indeed turn out for the best.” Randall saw her smile, which at any other time would have surely bent his will. “If you will excuse me.” She squeezed by him and moved toward the doorway.
He was amazed that now he felt very little for her. He had never meant to hurt her. If she had forgiven him, all the better. He would gladly go his way and was relieved to know she would now go hers.
“Do my eyes deceive me? Is that you, Randall?” Randall did an about-face and spotted Lord William Felgate shouldering through the crowd, heading in his direction. “How goes it, old man?”
“Wills, it’s been an age since I’ve seen you.” It did Randall good to see a friendly, familiar face. “Are you going by Lord Felgate yet?”
“No. And don’t think I ever will. Terrance is attending the Season looking for a wife. Plans to set up a nursery.”
“Ah, so you’re about to be bumped down to presumptive heir,” Randall clarified.
“Speaking of wives. Heard you’ve taken the fatal step.” William gave a wry smile. “Where is your charming bride?” He stood up on tiptoe, looking around the sea of guests, trying to spot the girl that could catch Randall’s fancy.
“I was wrong,” Larissa sighed, returning to Sir Randall’s side.
“This is she, I presume. Why would you want to keep her hidden away?” William took Larissa’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Charmed, my lady.”
“Allow me,” Randall offered. “My dear, this is Lord William Felgate. Lord William, here, is my good friend.”
“Very good,” William stressed, keeping an appreciative eye on Larissa.
Randall glanced at Larissa before confessing, “We’re not really married, Wills.”
“Why would you deny it?” William said in disbelief. “She’s everything you’d ever want!”
“You see,” Randall said to Larissa. “Even he doesn’t believe me.”
The success of the rout was overoccupied, overstated, and overblown in Larissa’s estimation. She found it very hard to believe people actually wanted to attend these dreadful affairs. With nothing to eat or drink, no music or entertainment, she didn’t see the value of attending.
Now that it was over and done with, she and Sir Randall could return to the comfort of Rushton house and its ready and well-stocked kitchen. They descended the stairs, retrieved their outerwear and, after waiting another lifetime, stood at the curb next in line for the return of their carriage.
A steady murmur of voices increased with intensity as a group moved from the house toward the street. “What’s going on?” she whispered to Sir Randall.
“I’m not quite sure,” he answered. “But we’ll soon find out.”
Sure enough, Lady Goddard, who stood just behind them, said to Mrs. Witharm, “I can’t possibly imagine. With a house full of people?”
“I think it must have been one of the guests,” Mrs. Witharm replied.
“No, it cannot be true. One of the duchess’ friends?”
Mrs. Witharm looked down her nose at the other guests in line. “Not everyone in attendance is a friend of Her Grace.”
Feeling self-conscious, Larissa faced forward, knowing Mrs. Witharm had meant someone of a lower class. Someone like her, a mere niece of a dowager viscountess or the wife of a baronet.
“The terrace window was left open,” Lady Goddard continued, relaying the facts. “They say that is how the thief escaped.”
“From two floors above ground? I think not, unless he was an acrobat from Astley’s.”
The Rushton coach pulled up next. A footman opened the door and handed Larissa up. She pulled her skirts around her legs, settling in the seat. Across from her sat Sir Randall. He nodded to the footman who signaled to the driver to move the carriage off.
“Did you hear those ladies?” she ask
ed Sir Randall. “Do you have any idea what was stolen?” Larissa felt alarm that one of the guests, perhaps even someone they knew, might be the guilty party.
Sir Randall leaned back against the squabs and slid his hands into his pockets to reflect on the matter. Then he coolly replied, “I need not wonder what it was or who has it. I know.” With that he pulled a thick-braided gold chain from his pocket. Hanging from the chain hung the Briolette diamond.
Chapter Sixteen
Larissa gasped in shock and pointed. “How … how… how….”
“They’ll think I’ve pinched the bloody thing.”
“Well, they just might be right,” Larissa said and gazed at him, wide-eyed. “Did you?”
“Of course not. However, the same who believe we’re married will just as easily accept the notion I took this.” Sir Randall cast an accusing glance in Larissa’s direction. “I do believe there is one of us that has been known to stray from the path of truth every now and again.”
“Are you accusing me of lying?” she retorted.
“I need not imply. I know it for a fact. You forget, I spent some time as your husband, Mr. Quinn.”
“How is it you come to have the necklace?” She glanced at the diamond pendant in Sir Randall’s hand.
“I’m not entirely sure, but with all the jostling and shoving that goes on at a rout, someone could have easily slid it into my pocket without my knowledge.”
“But who would have done such a terrible thing?”
“I’m not entirely sure. But I need to return it. Anonymously of course.”
“Of course,” she agreed. “And just how do you plan to accomplish this?”
“I’m not quite sure,” he said. The coach came to a stop in front of Rushton house. “But I will think of something.” He slid the jewel back into his pocket.
The following afternoon, Larissa walked into the so-called blue parlor. She had not meant to surprise Sir Randall, but found him leaning over the table. It almost looked as if he were concealing something.
“Oh, it’s you.” Sir Randall lurched, spinning to face Larissa when he heard her enter.
“What have you there?” Larissa peered to see what he had behind his back.
“It’s.” Sir Randall glanced around in the empty room. “The necklace,” he whispered.
Larissa mimicked him and looked about before speaking. “You still have it?”
“When would I have had an opportunity to rid myself of it?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” she said, indignant.
“I can’t just hand the thing over to one of the footmen and have him leg it to the duchess with my profound apologies, now, can I?” He slid the small package into his pocket.
“I suppose not. How do you plan to…”
“Please—” He shushed her. “Not so loud.”
“As you can see for yourself, Sir Randall, we are quite alone.”
“One cannot be too careful.” His dark eyes, marked with a tinge of suspicion, stared into hers. “As they say, the walls have ears.”
“Do they?” Larissa widened her eyes, mimicking his, and looked around the room.
“How do you think the servants know so much?”
Larissa imagined an eye watching at every crack and an ear pressed at every door. Heeding the warning, she slid closer and spoke in a hushed voice. “What are you planning?”
“Well,” he began. “I am planning to return this to Norfolk House by post.”
“By post?”
“The duchess will gladly pay the post for its return, and I will be equally glad to be rid of it. They’d have the devil of a time tracing it back to me.” He shrugged at the simplicity of his idea. “Nothing will look amiss. We’ll look to all the world to be an ordinary couple, out about the streets attending to everyday errands.”
“We?” Larissa repeated in alarm.
“With your help I’m sure I could manage.”
“My help? I don’t want you to make me a part of this.”
Sir Randall smiled. “You’re already a part of this, involved beyond belief.”
“No,” she groaned in denial. But it was true. She hadn’t thought of it, but her alliance with him, however imagined, was real in the minds outside that room. It was a premise she had hardly had a chance to warm up to. Everyone else thought she and Sir Randall were married. Everyone. She had to remember that. If she could be of help to him, she should cooperate.
“All right,” she agreed against her better judgment. “I’ll accompany you.”
“Thank you.” He smiled.
When Larissa and Randall returned from running their morning errands, including a successful trip to the post office, the butler informed them, “While you were out, a Mrs. Rutledge stopped by.”
“My aunt’s companion,” Larissa reminded Randall as they exchanged looks.
He recalled exactly who Mrs. Rutledge was, he had just forgotten about the chaperone’s due arrival. “Where is she now, Laurie? And what the devil’s kept her? She was supposed to be here yesterday.”
“I did not inquire, sir. It seems in light of recent events, Mrs. Rutledge thought it best to use her time in London to better advantage by visiting her sister before returning home and awaiting further word from the countess.”
“She left? Returning home?” Larissa did not sound pleased. “What are we—”
“How did she come to learn these ‘recent events?’ .” Randall asked, suspicious that the butler might have been the source of the news.
“I cannot say, sir,” Laurie replied with his indomitably impassive face. “And there is a Lord William Felgate waiting to see you.”
Lord William waited in the parlor and stood when Larissa and Randall entered the room. “I hate to pop in unexpectedly on you like this.” William shrugged his shoulders apologetically.
“What a pleasant surprise, Wills. Do sit down.”
Mrs. Drum brought the tea cart. Larissa waved her away, poured, and handed the first cup to their guest.
“Bumping into you last night reminded me it’s been at least a year since I’ve seen you.” Lord William accepted his tea. “I’ll be dashing off to the old fortress in a few days. Had enough of the social scene, if you know what I mean. Would you care to join me?”
Larissa remained quiet and watched several emotions play over Sir Randall’s face.
“Oh, do say you’ll come,” Lord William urged, sounding near desperation. “It’s going to be ghastly dull about the old place without you.”
“Me?” Sir Randall gulped.
“And your lovely wife, of course,” Lord William added, bestowing upon Larissa a magnetic smile.
“Yes, why not,” Sir Randall agreed. Larissa rested her disbelieving stare on him.
What was the man thinking?
“It’s all settled then.” Lord William placed his untouched tea on the low table and shot to his feet. “Thanks for the tea,” he said while making for the door.
“You haven’t touched yours yet,” Larissa called after him.
“Must be off,” he said. “I’ve still Terrance to tell of our company.” She could hear Lord William’s staccato steps dancing down the stairs.
“I do believe your wits have gone begging.” Larissa glared at Sir Randall, mystified at his effrontery.
“I think it really might be best if we disappeared into the country. Let this matter of the marriage scandal cool.”
That was enough for her. In the country, she would be safe. Away from London, away from the gossip, she need not endure the torturous advances Sir Randall made toward her for the ton’s benefit. Unfortunately, she would not be away from him. And the one person she felt she needed the most protection from was Sir Randall.
That afternoon, William’s coach waited outside for Larissa’s and Sir Randall’s luggage.
“We’ll be traveling in Lord William’s transport with him. Please make sure the trunks are loaded and sent with Abby,” Sir Randall instructed Laurie.
> “As you say, sir.”
Sir Randall glared at Larissa. “I’ll not have you telling anyone like Mrs. Briggs your husband considers you not genteel enough to have a lady’s maid this time.”
With a final farewell to Laurie and without the presence of Mrs. Rutledge, Larissa, Sir Randall, and Lord William departed for Carswell Castle. Just four hours outside London, Larissa knew the trip would be a short one.
Lord William had already succumbed to the transport’s motion. Reclining against the far corner with his feet propped up on the seat, he was fast asleep. Sir Randall sat across from her.
“I’ve left word with Laurie where we can be reached and instructions that it is imperative Uncle Cyrus should do so when he returns. I have no doubt he’ll soon have everything all right and tight. You’ll see,” Sir Randall assured Larissa. He removed his hat and tossed it in the seat next to her.
“And until then, do Lord Melton and Lord William expect to see us as a married couple?” Larissa wondered if Sir Randall’s forward ways would indeed be left in London.
“As gentlemen, men anyway, I do not believe they would ever notice the difference.” Sir Randall leaned across the coach and murmured, “Unless of course, you wish me to continue to dote on you as a loving husband?”
“I wish you would stay in your own seat, if you please,” she remarked, pushing him back.
Sir Randall laughed. “My dear, you have the most charming ways about you.”
Larissa glanced at the dozing Lord William. “I would hate to assume he couldn’t hear us. Is that not what placed us in this bumblebroth to start?”
“He’ll not be hearing anything I haven’t told him already. It’s not my fault he doesn’t believe we’re not man and wife. I promise, Larissa, while we are married I shall behave as a proper husband should. I would not for the world make you look like a fool by parading with another woman behind your back.”
“By ‘proper husband’ you mean …”
“All I meant was proper escort, companion, until such time you no longer need my protection.”
“Of course. I could not have any objection to that.”
Miss Quinn's Quandary Page 11
