The Wicked Baron

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘My dear Miss Rivington.’ Mr Woollatt quickly crossed the room and picked up her hand, pressing a kiss upon her fingers in an old-fashioned gesture that she found slightly unnerving. ‘How fortunate that I have found you alone.’

  ‘Is it, sir?’ Carlotta withdrew her hand and moved away. ‘I am waiting for Lady Broxted to join me.’ She prayed her aunt would come in very soon.

  ‘Of course, of course. In the meantime, we must entertain each other, eh?’ He gave a series of little grunts, and Carlotta realised with a jolt that it was laughter. He began to pace up and down, his hands clasped behind him. ‘Yes, Miss Rivington, I am delighted to have this opportunity to speak to you alone. You must know what is on my mind.’

  Carlotta swallowed nervously. ‘No, sir.’

  He beamed at her. ‘Ah, such innocence. Charming. Utterly charming. Then let me speak plainly, my dear. For some time now I have been contemplating a change to my situation. As you know, I am what is known in modern parlance as a warm man.’

  ‘W-warm, sir?’

  ‘Yes, full of juice—although I would more modestly call it a comfortable fortune. It is only right that at my time of life I should be looking to set up an establishment.’ He cleared his throat. ‘To, ah, provide myself with an heir.’

  With sudden, frightening clarity Carlotta knew she did not want him to continue. Where was her aunt? ‘Sir, I—’

  ‘I have been in town for more Seasons than I care to remember and, if you will forgive my arrogance, I think I can say that I could have my pick of the eligible young ladies paraded at Almack’s. But none, my dear Miss Rivington, has ever made such an impression upon me as you have done.’

  ‘Mr Woollatt—’ Carlotta put out her hand to silence him, but he merely caught it in his own.

  ‘Your kindness, your gentle ministrations to me that night at Vauxhall Gardens, convinces me that I have made the right decision.’

  Carlotta hung her head, her cheeks burning as she remembered that night, and Luke’s damning accusations.

  ‘No need to colour up, my dear, although such maidenly modesty does you credit. Lady Broxted was quite right when she told me you were totally unspoiled.’

  Carlotta had a sudden, vivid recollection of the scene in the hallway when they arrived earlier that day. She remembered her aunt talking earnestly to Mr Woollatt and in that moment she realised this tête-à-tête had been arranged. Lady Broxted had told Mr Woollatt that he would find her alone. Panic welled up within her as he began to pull her towards him.

  ‘Miss Rivington, let me say—’

  ‘Beggin’ your pardon, sir.’

  Mr Woollatt dropped Carlotta’s hand and jumped back at the words, uttered in a rough, country burr. Carlotta looked around to see the gardener coming into the room carrying a large vase of flowers. He placed the vase carefully upon the table, then proceeded to separate the stems in a methodical, unhurried fashion. Carlotta glanced at Mr Woollatt. His face was flushed with indignation and he glared at the gardener, who ignored him and continued to arrange the blooms to his satisfaction. Offering up a little prayer of thanks, Carlotta muttered her excuses and fled.

  Once she had reached the safety of her bedchamber, Carlotta allowed herself to recall the events in the library and even to smile a little at the scene. There was no doubting that Mr Woollatt was most aggrieved to have his rehearsed proposal of marriage interrupted. However, she felt no desire to smile when she thought of her aunt and uncle. They would be very angry with her when they heard that she had run away, and rightly so—their purpose in coming to Malberry Court had been to secure for her a suitable husband, and everyone was agreed that Mr Woollatt was eminently suitable.

  Carlotta stayed in her room until the dinner hour, then, steeling herself to face her aunt’s displeasure, made her way downstairs. This time the doors to the ante-room and the drawing room were thrown wide and the sound of voices told Carlotta that the guests were gathering in readiness for the dinner hour. As she entered the drawing room, Lady Broxted beckoned to Carlotta.

  ‘What in heaven’s name has occurred?’ she hissed, pulling Carlotta towards her. ‘Mr Woollatt is quite put out—did you refuse him?’

  ‘No, Aunt, we were disturbed,’ Carlotta explained in a whisper. ‘I—I panicked, and ran away.’

  ‘Silly child, what on earth is there to frighten you? Don’t tell me Mr Woollatt was anything other than a gentleman.’

  Carlotta flushed. ‘No, of course not, Aunt.’

  ‘Well, let us hope all is not lost,’ murmured Lady Broxted. She patted Carlotta’s hand. ‘There, there, child. I suppose it is only natural that you should be a little nervous. We must see what we can do to help you. Come now, do not look so downhearted—your pretty smile will help to win the day.’

  Carlotta tried to oblige. She raised her head, forcing her lips into a smile, only to find herself staring straight into the eyes of Lord Darvell. Lady Broxted’s fan rapped across her knuckles.

  ‘For goodness’ sake child, do you wish to drive away your suitor? Keep your smiles for Mr Woollatt, if you please! You must be careful to give him no reason to think you a flirt, my love. Behave yourself during dinner and afterwards. We must do what we can to win back Mr Woollatt’s regard for you.’

  Carlotta bit her lip; she was quite certain that she did not want Mr Woollatt’s regard.

  Chapter Eleven

  To Lady Broxted’s intense disappointment and Carlotta’s relief, Mr Woollatt was seated at the far end of the dining table. Carlotta happily accepted Adele’s invitation to sit near her, but she was disconcerted to find Luke slipping onto the chair beside her. Her aunt had warned her not to smile at other gentlemen, but it was so difficult not to respond when Luke was looking at her with that warm glint in his eyes. She sought nervously for something to say.

  ‘Did—did you enjoy your ride today, my lord?’

  ‘Very much,’ he replied soberly. ‘The countryside around Malberry provides some fine views and the park is ideal to gallop the fidgets out of horse and rider.’

  Carlotta stifled a sigh. ‘I wish I could have come with you. I dearly love to ride.’

  ‘I thought Lord Broxted had provided you with a mount in town.’

  ‘Yes, he hired a hack for me; she was the prettiest little thing, but very slow. There was no spirit in her—I doubt if she had ever galloped in her life.’

  ‘Then we must ask Adele to find you a more lively ride while you are here.’

  She thanked him warmly, and as the meal progressed she found herself chatting away quite happily. He described for her his life in the army, and was entertaining her with some of the more light-hearted moments when she caught her aunt’s eye. There was no mistaking the warning.

  ‘Ah,’ murmured Luke, intercepting the exchange of glances, ‘I am being too familiar.’

  ‘No, oh, no,’ exclaimed Carlotta. ‘It is just that…’

  She trailed off unhappily, but Luke merely nodded.

  ‘I understand,’ he said gently. ‘If you are seen to be on friendly terms with me, it might frighten away other suitors.’

  A spurt of anger flashed through Carlotta, burning her cheeks. ‘Surely there can be no harm in our talking at dinner. I can hardly ignore you—that would be uncivil.’

  He grinned. ‘It would indeed. But perhaps we should restrict ourselves to the commonplace. Let me recommend the turbot, Miss Rivington.’

  Carlotta lifted her napkin to hide her smile—Luke could never be commonplace!

  After dinner Lady Broxted kept Carlotta by her side while she did her best to charm Mr Woollatt back into a good humour. It appeared to work, and when Carlotta retired for the night, he pressed a kiss upon her hand and squeezed it, his smile indicating that he had forgiven her.

  ‘Well, I have done my best; it is up to you to win back your suitor now.’

  Carlotta was sitting up in bed, sipping at her hot chocolate when her aunt came in the following morning.

  ‘I have seen you in the sadd
le, Carlotta, I know you ride well, so I rely upon you to impress Mr Woollatt.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Carlotta, brightening. ‘Are we riding today?’

  ‘Your uncle and I do not go, but Mrs Ainslowe assures me that she will look after you, and Mrs Price says she will be riding, too, with Julia.’

  ‘Oh, famous!’ Carlotta scrambled out of bed. ‘I knew nothing of this—when was it arranged?’

  ‘It was decided last night, after you had gone off to bed. Knowing how much you like to ride, I had no hesitation in putting your name forward. Mrs Ainslowe says she can find you a suitable mount.’

  ‘Thank you, Aunt Broxted!’ Carlotta flew across the room and hugged her ruthlessly.

  ‘Well, well, that is enough now. You may show your gratitude by charming Mr Woollatt.’

  An hour later Carlotta was trotting out of the stable yard on a pretty little grey mare, trying to convey her thanks to her hostess. ‘She is beautiful, and so lively. I cannot wait to try out her paces. May we gallop once we are in the park?’

  ‘By all means,’ replied Adele. ‘She is called Flame and I am pleased you like her. She used to be my own favourite before I married, but James made me a present of Zephyr and I must ride her to please him.’ She laughed and leaned forward to pat the glossy black neck of her mount.

  ‘I am honoured that you have loaned Flame to me,’ said Carlotta.

  ‘Luke told me that you liked a spirited animal and Miss Price is a more nervous horsewoman. She prefers a quieter mount.’

  Carlotta looked across at Julia. She was riding a heavy bay hack whose dull eye and rolling gait seemed to indicate that he would not move any faster than a walk. Carlotta knew she would have disliked riding such a slug, but Julia looked happy enough, especially with Viscount Fairbridge riding beside her.

  ‘Your horse looks very fresh, Miss Rivington,’ commented Mr Woollatt, trotting up beside them.

  ‘She is, sir. She is longing for a gallop.’

  He gave her an indulgent smile. ‘Do not fret, for I shall ride alongside you, and catch your bridle if she looks to be getting away from you.’

  Carlotta looked at her hostess, saw her eyes were brimful of merriment and was forced to bite back her own laughter. After all, she had promised not to upset Mr Woollatt. Before she could say anything more, Mr Price’s voice gave her thoughts another turn.

  ‘My man tells me there’s talk of footpads in the village, Ainslowe. Attacked your painter, I understand.’

  James nodded. ‘Damned scoundrels. Might have killed him, too, if his servant had not been at hand.’

  ‘Mercy me!’ declared Mrs Price, coming up at that moment.

  ‘No need to worry, ma’am.’ Her host smiled. ‘I set my men to scour the area as soon as I heard of it, but there is no sign of the scoundrels. I’d say they are long gone, now.’

  ‘Gypsies, perhaps,’ said Sir Gilbert, trotting up.

  ‘Possibly. Unusual, though. No one has reported any strangers in the area.’

  ‘And how is your artist now?’ asked Mr Price.

  ‘A sore head, but thankfully nothing more serious. I told him to rest for a while, but I have no doubt he will be back at work in a week or two.’

  ‘Surely there is nothing more to do at the Court,’ said Sir Gilbert with a little laugh.

  ‘Oh, not in the house itself, but there are still a few temples to be painted yet. I do not see him leaving me before the New Year.’

  ‘My husband is determined to have every surface decorated,’ called Adele from the other side of the group.

  James raised his hat to her. ‘In your honour, my dear, in your honour!’

  Adele chuckled. ‘James is determined to have everything of the finest,’ she said to Carlotta. ‘But I must not complain. He has bought me the prettiest little carriage to ride around the estate.’

  ‘Dear me. Not a high-perch phaeton, I hope?’ exclaimed Mr Woollatt. ‘Most dangerous. There have been any number of accidents in town, you know, some of them fatal.’

  ‘No, no, sir, mine is a gig, and perfectly safe. You must let me take you up in it, Miss Rivington.’

  ‘I should like that very much, ma’am.’

  ‘And you are not afraid I shall overturn you?’ asked Adele, giving her a mischievous, sideways glance.

  Carlotta chuckled. ‘I will take my chances.’

  Mr Woollatt shook his head at her. ‘You are altogether too careless of your own safety, Miss Rivington.’

  Carlotta quelled a little spurt of irritation and schooled her features into a smile. ‘I am very honoured, sir, that you should be so careful of it,’ she said sweetly.

  Mr Woollatt blinked, then he puffed out his chest, looking very pleased with himself.

  They had reached the open parkland by this time, and Carlotta’s mount began to prance.

  ‘Are you ready to gallop the fidgets out of that nag of yours?’

  Luke’s voice close behind her made her look round. Her eyes strayed over his horse, a raw-boned black hunter that sidled and danced, eager to be off.

  ‘I doubt I can keep up with that rangy brute.’

  He gave her a slow smile and deep within her she felt the responding tug of attraction, setting her nerves tingling.

  ‘Try,’ he murmured.

  The provocation was too great, and as the hunter leapt forward Carlotta kicked her little mare on in hot pursuit, ignoring Mr Woollatt’s protests.

  The mare was fresh and agile, but could not match the hunter’s pace. Carlotta pulled her to one side to avoid the mud kicked up by the hunter’s huge hooves. She bent low over the horse’s neck and gave herself up to the chase, revelling in the wind in her face, the smooth rhythm of the mare as she flew over the ground. The scent of new-mown grass and leather and horses combined into a heady mix that set her senses buzzing as she crossed the open ground, urging her mare on to keep up with Luke. All too soon they were approaching the trees that bordered the park and the hunter’s pace slowed. A quick glance showed Carlotta that the rest of the party were some distance behind them, spread out across the park. Luke rode on until he was in the shadow of the trees before he pulled up to wait for her. Carlotta cantered up, laughing with sheer exhilaration. Luke was grinning.

  ‘Well done. Where did you learn to ride like that?’

  ‘Mama taught me, in Italy. She is an excellent horsewoman; we also used to ride bareback there, sometimes.’

  ‘Astride?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Miss Rivington, I am shocked!’

  She put her head on one side as she looked at him. ‘Are you, truly?’

  ‘No, of course not. You have mud on your face.’

  ‘Oh dear, have I? That is because Flame was close behind you for most of the way.’ She hunted for her handkerchief.

  ‘Bring your mare closer; I will wipe it off for you.’

  ‘Quickly, then, before any of the others come up.’ She held out her handkerchief and turned her face up towards him, smiling, but her smile faltered when he caught her fingers. The shock of his touch set her heart beating so heavily she felt sure he would hear it. ‘Perhaps we should not—’ She made to draw back, but his grip on her hand tightened.

  ‘We are friends, are we not?’ he said lightly.

  Meeting his eyes, Carlotta saw there was nothing alarming about his smile and she relaxed a little, allowing him to take her chin with the fingers of one hand while the other gently drew the wisp of silk across her cheek. Carlotta trembled. He was so close, she could see the tiny laughter lines at the corners of his mouth, the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and beg him to kiss her, but it would not do. She had enjoyed one brief, heady flirtation with the Wicked Baron; she would not risk such pain again. She closed her eyes, afraid that he would read her thoughts.

  ‘There, it is done.’ Carlotta opened her eyes to find him smiling at her so warmly that her bones turned to water. ‘Just in time. The others are coming up now.’ Luke caug
ht at Flame’s bridle. ‘While we are alone, I want to tell you I called upon your parents this morning.’

  ‘You have seen my father? How is he?’

  ‘Much better. He sends you his love.’ A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. ‘He hopes you are behaving yourself.’

  She stifled a sigh. ‘I am trying to do so. Thank you for bringing me news of Papa; it is very good of you to go to so much trouble for me.’

  She could not read his look and was about to ask what he was thinking when she heard the thud of hooves, and a reproachful voice behind her.

  ‘My dear Miss Rivington, was that wise, to set off at such a pace on an animal you do not know?’

  The magical moment was gone. Luke looked up.

  ‘You must blame me, Woollatt,’ he called cheerfully. ‘I could tell at a glance that Miss Rivington is at home to a peg on horseback and thought she would like to gallop the fidgets out of the mare.’

  ‘Then I call you thoughtless, my lord, to risk the young lady in such a way.’

  ‘No, I am the thoughtless one,’ put in Carlotta quickly. ‘I was very eager to try out Flame’s paces, and she was raring to go. You can see that she is perfectly docile now—I could have stopped her at any time, you know.’

  Having promised to behave herself, she knew it behoved her now to make her peace with Mr Woollatt. She cast a swift, apologetic glance at Luke; much as she would have liked to spend the whole morning in his company she knew her duty. She turned her horse and trotted off beside Mr Woollatt.