by Amanda Scott
Alicia grinned saucily at him and demanded to know if Cicely really obeyed his commands, but Brittany was grateful to see that whatever impulsive words had hovered earlier upon her sister’s tongue had been swallowed. It would not do to incur their father’s displeasure tonight of all nights. Ravenwood turned back to Cheriton then, and Brittany felt grateful to him all over again. Despite the fact that the marquess seemed to be in good humor, she had had the oddest notion that he was awaiting the first opportunity to speak privately with her. Either he wished to confront her at last over the orgeat episode or, more likely, he sensed that she had been up to mischief during his absence. In any event, Ravenwood’s arrival had neatly stemmed any private discussion they might have had, for the moment at least. Indeed, now that their dinner guests were being gently herded toward the dining room, she had more than a moment’s respite in which to contemplate the unpredictability of her emotions.
In this regard the problems of Zara herself and what the marquess might presently have to say about her involvement with the young women were secondary. Her immediate, primary concern was to arrange a private meeting with Faringdon as soon as possible in order that she might release him, and herself as well, from their betrothal. The odd sense of relief she felt over this decision gave her quickly to understand that she would have released him even if he were not in love with Alicia. No longer could she consider a marriage where there was no love. Her sisters had been right to accuse her of doing what was merely expedient.
Vividly could she recall the discussions about her elder sister’s marriage and how necessary it had been to have the matter over and done before Brittany made her come-out. No doubt, she decided, those discussions had influenced her decision to accept Faringdon’s proposal when she had. As to what had motivated him to make that proposal in the first place, who could say? She had an uncomfortable feeling that he had merely wished to win a hand sought by so many others. That he liked her she could not doubt. She liked him, too. But she did not love him, for now she knew that love was much more than being amused by or feeling at ease with a man one had known for a long time. Love was that burst of fire that leapt and danced in one’s breast at the mere sound of a particular deep voice. It was not mere joy, but a host of other mixed emotions that soared at a hint of a smile on a particular face or fell at the lifting of a particular eyebrow.
Even if it should transpire that Cheriton could not return her feelings, she knew now that he and no other man stirred those special emotions within her. She could marry no other. On the other hand, she told herself, lifting the little nosegay that had arrived that afternoon from her secret admirer to sniff its lovely, light scent, perhaps she had been singularly foolish. Was it not possible that the admirer who sent her such delightful trifles as this one might be the very man she would most wish him to be? Her heart beat faster, and before she placed the tips of her fingers upon Faringdon’s forearm to allow him to lead her into the dining room, she glanced at Cheriton, who was just then offering his arm to Emily Cowper. His gaze intercepted hers and he nodded, but when she sniffed again at her little nosegay, his gaze hardened. Brittany looked quickly away.
At table she found herself flanked by Faringdon and Cheriton. The former was unnaturally quiet and unresponsive to her conversational gambits, so she turned after a time to the latter. A slight glint in his eyes when he smiled at her made her shift in her chair, as she guiltily remembered Zara, who was waiting upstairs until the rest of the guests should begin arriving, when it would be safe for her to mingle with the company. Thinking quickly, lest he ask her about the color she felt rising to her face, Brittany demanded rather brusquely to know if he had found his mother well.
“Well enough to return to London with me,” he replied, looking at her more searchingly.
“She is here? I had thought you described her as wishing to see no part of the city.”
His sudden chuckle sent a rush of warmth through her body. “I cannot say what brought about the change of heart, but I no sooner arrived at Cheriton Manor than she fell upon my chest in what Ravenwood would no doubt deplore as a manner fit to ruin a man’s coat, and demanded that I convey her to town at once. So I packed her up, bag and baggage, and brought her along with me.”
“Is she feeble, sir, that she needed you to see to the matter for her?”
“Feeble!” Both eyebrows flew upward, and he regarded her in comic astonishment. “Scarcely that. She merely prefers others to attend to the tiresome details, such as posting houses, packing, and the like. But you will see for yourself just how feeble she is, my dear, for she will be here later in the evening.”
“But she was not invited,” Brittany protested. When his eyebrows snapped into an ominous frown, she apologized hastily. “I did not mean that the way it sounded, but you must know that Mama had not the least notion that Lady Cheriton would be in town: She therefore …” Her words trailed away as she realized there was nothing she could say now that would not make matters worse.
Cheriton shook his head gently, his eyes twinkling now at her look of distress. “Mama would never let the trifling lack of an invitation deter her from attending a party she wished to attend, I promise you. She informed me, when I broached that very point, that she had any number of friends who would be coming and who would not hesitate to include her in their party. Likewise, she claims long acquaintance with your sire and said she would just like to see him bar his door to her.”
“Goodness,” said Brittany, awed. “I think your mama must be rather different from the lady I’d imagined.”
“No doubt.” He looked at her as though he meant to add something else, but his dinner partner claimed his attention just then, and he turned away with a murmured apology instead.
Brittany was not sorry, for it seemed to her that when he looked at her so, she could think only of Zara. Really, it was most disconcerting, that notion that he could read her mind. Yet, could she not do the same? His curiosity was nearly tangible. She knew as though he had said so the moment he walked into the house that he was aware of the fact that something out of the ordinary had occurred. And she was just as certain that he was only waiting for a propitious moment to discover what that something was. Her task would be to keep him from cornering her at least until she had made an opportunity to speak with Faringdon.
Arranging to speak with the earl was not difficult, for they led the first dance together. When it was over and he was on the point of restoring her to her mama’s side by the simple means of striding forward with her arm tucked in his, she dug in her heels and said rather sharply, “I wish to have a private word with you, Tony.”
“Eh?” He looked down at her as though he had only just discovered her presence at his side.
“Honestly, sir, do try to pay attention. You have danced this entire minuet with me without having so much as looked at me. ’Tis as if you are bewitched, for you can scarcely be foxed. I know Papa did not let anyone linger over the port.”
He gave himself a shake and focused his eyes more steadily upon her. “Not foxed, no, but a beast nonetheless. Forgive me, my dear. What did you wish to say to me?”
“Not here, Tony, for goodness sake. Come with me into the little parlor. This way.” Without a backward glance, she led him out of the ballroom and along the gallery to a little-used chamber that overlooked the rear garden. Once inside the parlor, she turned to him, smiling at the bewildered, somewhat wary expression upon his handsome features. “Do try not to look as though you have been dragged to the headmaster’s study, sir. I promise ’tis nothing so bad as that.”
He shook his head. “I’d deserve it, Brittany. I’ve behaved badly and I shouldn’t blame you a bit if you wished to tear a strip off my hide. Truly, though, I mean to do better in the future.”
“It doesn’t signify,” she said, smiling at him, “for I do not mean to marry you at all.”
“What?” a look of joy mixed with uncertainty crossed his face. “What are you saying, Brittany? Of course yo
u will marry me. It is quite settled.”
“You don’t wish to marry me, though, do you?”
“I am not so misguided as that, my dear. You will make an admirable wife, I make no doubt.”
“But not your wife, Tony, for you are in love with Alicia. No, do not deny it, please,” she went on swiftly when she saw him struggling with himself, “for I shouldn’t believe you for a minute. I have watched you, you know, and I have come to know your moods even better than you do yourself, I daresay. At first, I thought my sister merely annoyed you.”
“She did.”
“Yes, well, not the way I thought. You never scolded me or corrected me, and I am certainly no saint. You just never cared about my behavior like you cared about Alicia’s.”
“Maddening wench.” But he grinned like a schoolboy caught in mischief. “You ain’t vexed, then?”
“Of course not. If you had married me, you’d most likely have gone on as you have before, and like as not we’d have outrun the constable, for I certainly have no knowledge of finances or methods of economy. But I believe you when you say you mean to change your ways, Tony.”
He sighed deeply. “Are you quite certain you wish to do this thing, Brittany? It will not be at all comfortable for you, you know. Even if we make it clear that the decision has been yours, malicious tongues will wag.”
“Well, I hope you do not mean to marry Alicia immediately, for that would certainly set them wagging, but if you can contrive to contain your desires for a month or so, I believe we can set matters to rights without too much gossip. Papa will be annoyed with both of us, I daresay, but I can manage him, particularly if I can convince Ravenwood to stay in town for a few more days. He has a way of—”
“Of making black sound white,” Tony cut in, laughing. He moved forward, taking her in his arms. “I don’t know how you guessed, my dear, but I am grateful to you, and I promise I shall do nothing to make you sorry to have released me from my vows. The only hitch in these proceedings, as I see it, may come from your stubborn sister. I have given her little cause to love me.”
Brittany smiled up at him. “I shouldn’t fret, sir. Lissa pays you more heed than you know.”
Chuckling, he bent and kissed her just as the door behind them opened.
Cheriton stood upon the threshold. “I was looking for … Oh, pardon me,” he said brusquely, turning on his heel and shutting the door behind him with a decided snap.
“Well, what in the world is the matter with him?” demanded Faringdon, frowning. “He might have come in, after all.”
Brittany smiled. “I think he was annoyed to discover you with your arms about me, sir.”
“What? Nonsense. Betrothed to each other, ain’t we? For all he knows, that is.” He stared down at her, his eyebrows lifting comically when he noted the bright color flooding her cheeks. “Aha, my girl, so your motives ain’t so pure as you would have me believe. Here, look at me.”
Brittany turned her face up again, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Are you vexed now, Tony?”
He gave her a shake. “Vexed? I should say not, but are you sure you ain’t tilting at windmills, m’dear? Can’t say I’ve ever noticed the least sign of encouragement from Cherry. If he’s fallen head over ears, I’d know, sure as check.”
“Would you, Tony? Seems to me you’d have been the last one to know.”
He dropped his hands from her shoulders as an arrested look leapt into his eyes. “I would have been, you’re right about that. But look here, my girl, do you mean to say he’s been making up to you behind my back? I’ll soon teach him better manners if that’s the case.”
She laughed then. “What, would you send him to the right-about, sir? He has done nothing of the sort, but I rather suspect him of being my secret admirer, if you must know.”
“Cherry? Pack of nonsense. He never did anything so flea-brained in all his life. And he certainly never gave you that cloisonné flower. Oh, yes, I’ve heard about it,” he added when she looked at him in surprise. “Not that you’ve mentioned it to me, of course, nor meant to do so, I daresay, but I can tell you Cherry never gave so improper a gift to an engaged lady in all his life.”
“Well, maybe not, but when I made a small display of this nosegay earlier in the evening, he frowned at me as though he thought I ought not to do so where you might see me. Not that you were paying me the least heed, of course,” she added with a saucy grin.
“You watch yourself, my girl. We ain’t split up yet, not officially.”
“Oh, yes, we have. I have only to tell Papa, and I mean to do so at once. I only hope Cheriton has not left the house in high dudgeon.”
“Not his style to enact Cheltenham dramatics in other people’s houses,” Tony said. “’Sides, he told me the old marchioness means to look in on your party. He won’t go before she arrives, you may be sure of that.”
“Do you know her?”
“Know her? Of course I do. Game old trout. Like to make her laugh. The old marquess led her a merry dance, what with his gaming and his women, but she never let it bother her much. In fact, ’tis my belief she loved him in spite of all that. His death took a deal of the old spirit out of her, but Cherry says she’s as right as rain again now. But look here, we’ve been hiding in here long enough. Someone else is bound to come in search if we don’t get back.”
Brittany agreed with him, for she wished to find the marquess. She was not by any means certain just how she would go about explaining matters to him, but she knew she meant to have a stab at it. If he was angry with her, so much the better. Anger now could only mean that he cared as much as she wished him to care for her.
Back in the ballroom, she let her gaze move slowly from point to point throughout the room, but at first she could not see him anywhere. He was tall enough to stand out, too, she thought. Just then she saw the back of his head some distance away, and ignoring the fact that she ought by rights to return to her mother’s side, she began making her way as quickly as she could through the crowd. It was no easy task, for nearly everyone she passed wished to comment on the success of the ball or to tell her how well she was looking. She smiled and bowed and pressed on. Once or twice she was certain she saw Cheriton ahead of her, and just as she realized the head she had thought was his was someone else altogether, a small hand clutched urgently at her arm.
“Lady Brittany!” She turned to find Zara at her side, looking pale and frightened. “Lady Brittany, quickly, I must speak to you.”
“What is it? Where is Sarah?”
Zara looked about in distraction. “I-I do not know. She was with me, and then she was not. I do not know. Oh, ma’am, Fahd is here. I saw him.”
“Did he see you?” Now it was Brittany’s turn to look anxiously about her, but in the press of people, it was difficult to see any distance.
“I do not know that either,” Zara confessed, keeping her tone low enough that it would not carry beyond Brittany’s ears to anyone else. “He may have done. I thought so at first, but there was no outcry, so I may have been mistaken.”
“He would scarcely make an outcry here,” Brittany pointed out. “How did he get in, I wonder?”
“I do not know, but I doubt he would find it very difficult, you know.”
Brittany remembered Cheriton’s comments about his mother. If one had enough nerve, no doubt entering a large house in the midst of a crush like this one would not be at all difficult.
“Fahd wishes to make trouble for me,” Zara muttered. “I told you how, since I am never allowed to leave the house, I thought he offered to take me to Conduit Street only to make trouble. Now, however, he will be in trouble himself, you see, for my master will have been very angry with him for allowing me to run away. Please, ma’am, where shall I go? I cannot stay here, and I am afraid to leave this room alone, for fear he will see and follow me. I-I am afraid of Fahd.”
“Come with me,” Brittany said. “If we are together, he can scarcely accost you.”
“Brit
tany, where are you going?” Alicia had seen them, and she excused herself now to a gentleman whom she had practically pushed aside, then hurried up to them. “What happened to Sarah?”
“She seems to have disappeared, and Zara thinks she has seen Fahd in the ballroom, so I am taking her upstairs. Do you come with us?”
“Oh, no, for that would be to draw more attention to Zara, don’t you think? Moreover, I am looking for Faringdon. With my luck, he will come upon me out of the blue, and I shall have to endure yet another of his fusty lectures, and I am having a good deal too much fun tonight to allow him to spoil it.”
Her words lacked sincerity, and the anxious look she cast about looked more as though she hoped to see the earl than to avoid his company. Brittany grinned at her and nearly laughed aloud a moment later when she saw Alicia’s eyes light up. She had no need to look behind her. She knew that Faringdon was there before he spoke.
“Oh, good,” Alicia said, surprisingly, “just the person we need. Zara needs to get out without being seen, sir, and if you are with us, she need not fret about whether that dreadful Fahd will capture her and return her to the ambassador.”
Brittany’s mouth dropped open and she looked swiftly from her loose-tongued sister to the earl, expecting fireworks. It was clear from the expression on Faringdon’s face as he looked from Alicia to Brittany to Zara that he needed little explanation. His eyes narrowed when he looked back at Alicia, but to Brittany’s astonishment, he remained calm.
“I think it would be best if we all go someplace where we might discuss this business without taking the chance of being overheard,” he said decisively. “Come along, the three of you.”
“Where, Tony?” Alicia asked.
“The small parlor?” Brittany suggested.
“No, too near the ballroom,” Faringdon said, his brow knitted in thought. “I have it, the dining room. No one will go back there, for the supper is to be served in the large drawing room. We may be as private as we like.”
