The Rebellious Ward

by Joan Wolf

  Catriona looked sympathetic. “Edmund can be very intimidating,” she agreed softly.

  The marquis’s sleepy eyes glinted. They were really a very nice shade of blue, she thought. “I am not intimidated,” he murmured. “I thought that perhaps you were.”

  Catriona gave him a long green look. “We are going to Vauxhall tomorrow night,” she said, seemingly at random. “I hear it is supposed to be very enjoyable.”

  The marquis’s blue-eyes now looked amused. “It is,” he said. “I enjoy it myself.”

  “Do you?” she asked innocently and turned as she felt Meg’s hand on her arm.

  “The next act is beginning, Kate,” said Margaret’s soft voice.

  Catriona smiled at the marquis. “Good evening, Lord Hampton,” she said sweetly. “It was very pleasant talking to you.”

  “Good evening, Miss MacIan,” he replied gravely.

  * * * *

  They went to Vauxhall the following evening: Margaret, Mr. Halley, Lady Dawley, Catriona, and Lord Wareham. Lady Dawley had been surprised and triumphant when Wareham had asked to accompany them. She had accepted his escort graciously. Edmund was away for a few days, visiting William Herschel at Slough, and Lord Wareham was a distinct addition to their party.

  Catriona wore a dress of palest pink, a color that flattered her complexion and was thought suitable for young girls in their first season. But there was nothing childlike about Catriona’s face, and Lady Dawley, catching sight of Lord Wareham’s eyes as he looked at her charge’s profile, was startled. Perhaps, she thought, as her own eyes rested on Catriona’s averted face, perhaps she had underestimated Kate’s attraction.

  Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens consisted of a series of walks and alleys lit by a quantity of lanterns and lamps. In the center of the gardens was a large open space with a rotunda for dancing and tiers of boxes where refreshments were served.

  Catriona was delighted with the glowing gardens and the box where they sat. Several people they knew came over to greet them and shake hands. As the orchestra started up again, Lord Wareham turned to Catriona and asked if she would care to dance. She accepted, and the two of them moved off toward the Rotunda.

  Halfway through the evening Lord Ware-ham’s sister, Lady Elizabeth Atwood, made an appearance at their box and, after frigidly greeting Lady Dawley and the rest of the party, virtually demanded that her brother dance with her. Lord Wareham looked very annoyed, but his manners were too good to permit him to do anything but excuse himself and accompany his sister to the Rotunda.

  Two minutes later Lord Hampton appeared and asked Catriona to dance. “I’d love to,” Catriona replied instantly, before her chaperone could object. Lady Dawley frowned but made no move to stop Catriona from leaving the box with the marquis.

  “Instead of dancing, why don’t we take a stroll through the gardens?” he asked as they neared the Rotunda.

  “I should like to see the gardens,” Catriona said. “They look so beautiful in all this lovely golden lamplight.”

  Lord Hampton drew her hand through his arm, and they began to stroll down a path. “The gardens are not the only thing that looks lovely in the lamplight,” he remarked, looking down at her.

  “If you mean me, thank you,” she returned easily.

  He smiled. “For—how old—eighteen?—you have become very adept at dealing with compliments.”

  “Seventeen.” She looked up at him a little gravely. “I find people in London give a great many compliments. It is a little difficult to pay much heed to them.”

  “I see. You would prize them more if they came more rarely. I must remember not to compliment you again.”

  Catriona laughed. “Oh, dear. Now I have done myself in.”

  There was a pause as they passed another couple returning toward the Rotunda. Then Lord Hampton said, “Your cousin the duke would not like it if he knew you were walking here with me.”

  “You do not need to tell me that,” replied Catriona vigorously. She looked up at him curiously. “How does one get to be a rake? Does it mean you have had a great many mistresses?”

  He laughed. “You are very astute for one so young, Miss MacIan.”

  “But a great many men who are not rakes also have mistresses,” she went on. “What is the difference? Does it have to do with the numbers?”

  His shoulders were shaking a little. “Numbers have something to do with it,” he agreed.

  “Hmm,” said Catriona and walked beside him in silence for a minute. “How many mistresses have you had?” she asked finally.

  “Dozens,” he replied gravely.

  “Dozens. Goodness.” She looked up at him and then smiled impishly. “How exhausting.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute and then asked, “May I ask why this detailed inquiry into my love life?”

  “Well, I don’t know anything at all about rakes and mistresses, you see, and I wanted to find out. I’m afraid that when I’m interested in something I ask a great many questions. But as Edmund always told me, questions are the way to knowledge.”

  “Yes, well, I rather doubt this is the sort of knowledge he was talking about.”

  Catriona giggled. “So do I, actually.”

  “Kate.” The marquis stopped walking and turned her to face him. “Why did you invite me to Vauxhall tonight?”

  Catriona didn’t quibble. “Because I like you,” she replied simply. “You don’t act as if I were a stupid, mindless, hysterical idiot.” Her eyes danced. “If I had asked those questions of Lord Wareham,” she said, “he would have fainted.”

  He imagined the scene and grinned. “He would have,” he agreed.

  “And I don’t see how your being a rake has anything to do with me,” she went on. “All those ladies became your mistress of their own free will, I presume. You didn’t force them.”

  She looked at him inquiringly, and his shoulders shook again. “No,” he got out. “I don’t go in for rape.”

  “I didn’t think so,” she said seriously. “And I have no intention of becoming your mistress. It would break my great-grandmother’s heart should I ever do such a thing. So it seems to me all the danger Edmund talks about is entirely in his own imagination.”

  “The danger may be to your reputation, not your morals,” he said and now he was serious.

  Catriona’s face became suddenly very still. “That’s true,” she said. “I hadn’t thought of that. People might say, ‘Like mother like daughter.’“

  She had thought her voice was expressionless, but something of her feeling must have shown, for he said roughly, “What swine said that to you?”

  She bent her head. “What does it matter? It’s true, isn’t it?”

  “No, it is not. Or if it is, it will only be said because people are jealous.”

  “Jealous.” She looked up at him out of wide eyes. “Edmund said that too. But why should anyone be jealous of me?”

  “Because, Kate,” he murmured, bending toward her upturned face, “there isn’t a man in London who isn’t longing to do this.” Catriona closed her eyes and then, as the pressure of his mouth increased, raised her arms and slid them around his neck. Really, she thought, feeling his body pressed to hers, this was very pleasant. She could quite see why he had so many mistresses.

  Chapter Fourteen

  On their way back to Lady Dawley, Catriona and Lord Hampton met Louisa Worthing, who was walking with her brother, Frederick, a man Catriona did not know, and Sarah Worthing, Louisa’s sister. During the course of the season Louisa had not proved to be one of Catriona’s admirers. She had several times made spiteful remarks about Catriona’s dress or behavior within her hearing. And it had been Lady Maria Worthing, Louisa’s mother, who had uttered the malicious comment about Catriona the night of her first Almack’s assembly.

  Louisa’s whole face sharpened to alertness now as she saw Catriona walking alone with the Marquis of Hampton. “Miss MacIan,” she said frostily, her dark eyes going from Catriona to the marquis
.

  Catriona smiled sunnily. How are you, Miss Worthing?” She included the whole party in her smile. “Such a lovely evening for a stroll. Lord Hampton and I have been quite enchanted by the beauty of the gardens.”

  “Indeed,” said Louisa and glared at her brother, who was beaming fatuously at Catriona.

  “Indeed,” said the marquis. “Good evening.” He took Catriona’s arm and steered her firmly past the two couples and along the path toward the pavilion.

  “Oh, dear,” said Catriona. “Now I am in the suds. Louisa will have the news of our stroll all over London tomorrow.”

  “What a repellent girl she is,” he remarked distastefully.

  “I feel sorry for her,” said Catriona. “She must be terribly unhappy.”

  “What makes you say that?” he asked in surprise.

  “Happy people don’t feel the need to spread unhappiness,” Catriona replied simply.

  The marquis stopped for a moment and looked down at her. His smile was a little twisted. “That is a very profound statement,” he said.

  She laughed. “Not at all. It’s only common sense, my lord.”

  He began to walk on. “It is only common sense for you not to see me again, Kate. Do you know that?”

  She sighed. “Yes, I suppose that is true. Edmund will be furious when he hears I’ve been walking with you.” She lowered her voice and said on a note of horror,

  “Alone.”

  He grinned. “I want to see you again. Very much.”

  “I’d like to see you too,” she replied frankly. “But I really don’t see how.”

  “I’ll come up with a scheme,” he promised as they reached the end of the path and came into the lighted area where the boots were. “I’ve had a lot of experience,” he added, and Catriona chuckled. Lady Dawley was awaiting them, and the marquis handed Catriona over and made a graceful exit.

  * * * *

  The story of Catriona’s clandestine walk with Lord Hampton was not in fact spread all over London the next day. The ton was regaled with quite another scandal. Lady Louisa Worthing had eloped with the younger son of the village parson—in fact, the very young man whom Catriona had seen her with at Vauxhall the previous evening. Lord Worthing had gone after them, but nothing had been heard from him as yet.

  The news got out by way of the servants, and half of London was agog. “But what is so terrible?” Catriona asked her great-grandmother. “They were heading for Scotland, so they are planning to marry.”

  “It is a very unequal match, my dear, which is why the Worthings won’t allow it,” the duchess responded gently. “Louisa will have rather a lot of money, and this boy is practically penniless. The Worthings are a very old family, and the boy, though a gentleman, can hardly be called well born. It seems the two of them grew up together. It is a thousand pities that this has happened. Either way, Louisa will be ruined.”

  “But why will she be ruined, Grandmama?”

  “She won’t be received in society, my dear. If Lord Worthing catches them and stops the marriage, she will still have been alone in the young man’s company overnight. And if they do reach Scotland, the likelihood is that her family will refuse to recognize her again.”

  Catriona’s eyes flashed. “How utterly unfair.”

  “Perhaps it is,” said the duchess, “but it is the way of the world, my dear.”

  * * * *

  Rumors abounded, and the following day the news got out that Lord Worthing had recovered his daughter. The young couple had not managed to reach Scotland after all. The boy had been sent packing back to the country and Louisa had been brought back to London.

  Three days later Catriona attended a rout at the home of Mrs. Mason-Burgley. It was not a large affair, but many of the ton’s most important figures were present. Edmund had returned from Slough in the late afternoon and accompanied his aunt and his two wards. Catriona was surprised to see that Lord Hampton was also present. This was not the kind of party he usually attended.

  There was a great deal of mingling and chatting among the guests. There was to be dancing in one of the rooms and cards in another, but neither activity had gotten underway. Catriona was standing with Lady Dawley and Lord Wareham when a sudden hush came over the room. She looked up, and there on the threshold was Lady Worthing. Next to her, pale and frightened-looking, stood Louisa. There was a dreadful moment of silence, and then the lady standing closest to Louisa started to turn her back.

  Suddenly the silence was broken by a warm, friendly voice. “Louisa!” said Catriona as she moved swiftly across the floor. “How lovely to see you.”

  Louisa turned apprehensive eyes on Catriona’s face. “Th-thank you,” she almost whispered.

  There was a little movement behind Catriona. “I’ve managed to secure a few chairs, Catriona,” said Edmund’s voice close to her ear. “Why don’t you and Miss Worthing come along and sit down and I’ll get you some refreshment.”

  Catriona’s green eyes were blazing. “Thank you, Edmund,” she said. As Edmund took Louisa’s arm, it was as if a spell had been broken, and the room relaxed into chatter. The three of them crossed the room, and as they passed Lady Dawley and Lord Wareham, Catriona stopped. “Do you care to join us, my lord?” she asked.

  Lord Wareham wanted no part of this awkward situation. He opened his mouth to decline and found himself caught in the green blaze of Catriona’s stare. He realized with unusual perception that if he refused to accompany her now, he would have lost her for good. He swallowed. “I’d be delighted to, Miss MacIan,” he said, and Catriona rewarded him with a dazzling smile.

  So it was that Louisa Worthing, instead of finding herself a social outcast, sat and danced and had supper with the two highest-born and most eligible bachelors in London.

  “I would have helped you out,” Lord Hampton said to Catriona as they danced together later, “but I thought you needed someone of more notable rectitude than I.”

  Catriona laughed. “Poor Lord Wareham. He wanted no part of Louisa. Or me. But he served his purpose.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Louisa was dancing with Mr. Hardy. All of Catriona’s admirers had quickly realized where their duty lay.

  “If he didn’t want any part of you, he wouldn’t have done it,” said the marquis, and Catriona shrugged a little in acknowledgment. “Your cousin didn’t need any prompting, though,” Lord Hampton continued.

  “No.” Catriona’s lovely, full mouth was a little compressed.

  There was always a sense of strain whenever he mentioned her cousin. The marquis could not tell what her feelings toward him really were. “It was not the sort of thing I would have expected him to do,” he said probingly. “He always looks so cool and unconcerned.”

  “He’s not like that at all,” said Catriona. “It’s just that most people don’t know him very well.”

  “He’s not precisely an easy chap to get to know,” the marquis responded ruefully.

  “I suppose that’s true,” said Catriona. “But he was as angry as I was about what they were all doing to Louisa.”

  “That girl has done nothing but malign you since you came to London,” Lord Hampton said slowly. “You know that.”

  “Yes. I told you she was unhappy. All the time she has wanted to marry this boy, and her parents wouldn’t let her. Poor thing.”

  “Do you know what you have, Kate?” He was speaking slowly, as though discovering something. “A kind heart.”

  Catriona shrugged again. “That’s not so unusual.”

  He laughed a little, and for a minute his hand on hers tightened possessively. “Oh, yes, it is,” he contradicted her positively. “Kindness and compassion are two qualities sadly missing from the makeup of most of the people I know.”

  They were not missing from Edmund’s character, Catriona thought as she made some response to the marquis. Over his shoulder she caught sight of the duke’s black head. He was glistening courteously to Mrs. Mason-Burgley and had reverted to his usual air of cool, wo
rldly elegance.

  They none of them really knew Edmund, she thought to herself as her eyes stayed fastened on his beautiful, chiseled face. He had grace and compassion, wisdom and integrity. Everything she knew about justice and responsibility she had learned from him. And he had too the gift of laughter. She remembered, with suddenly vivid immediacy, the crazy rhymes he used to make up for her, the funny songs and outrageous riddles. It was probably a side of him only she had seen. “I beg your pardon?” she said to Lord Hampton. The marquis repeated his comment, and after a second she made a suitable reply.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was not until the evening was almost over that Catriona danced with Edmund. It was a waltz, and as his arms went around her, she felt her breath catch and she stiffened. But his guiding arms were competent and impersonal, and after a minute she began to relax. When the dance was over, he kept her hand in his and began to walk toward the open French windows. Catriona accompanied him in silence, and soon the two of them were standing side by side looking out at the small garden of Mrs. Mason-Burgley’s town house.

  “I was very proud of you tonight, Catriona,” Edmund said softly. “Louisa Worthing may be a wretched girl, but she doesn’t deserve to be publicly humiliated.”

  “It was rotten, Edmund,” Catriona said warmly. “All those people were going to ignore her.”

  “Yes. They were.” He raised an eyebrow. “Charming, isn’t it?”

  “It’s so hypocritical!” she cried. “Half the women in that room have lovers, but they were going to turn their backs on Louisa because she spent one night alone with a boy she loved. A boy she was trying to marry!” Catriona turned to him, her eyes flashing.

  He smiled at her, his rare, warm smile that she had seen so often as a child and saw so seldom now. “The only times you ever get angry,” he said, “are when you’re angry on someone else’s behalf.”

  She smiled back. “I think I frightened poor Lord Wareham half to death.”