by Dorothy Mack
“Whoa, lad. Where are you off to?”
“I … I thought I’d go down to the canal and watch the fishing boats come in near the Quai aux Briques.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he refrained from mentioning that the fishing boats would have come in earlier than midmorning if they hoped to do any business. “Are you finished with your studies for the moment?”
“Yes. That is, I have some more Latin translation to do, but I’ll get to it after lunch.”
Luc’s eyes slid from his, and Dominic sighed silently. Something was going to have to be done about Luc in the near future. He needed to have his time more occupied. With the women so involved with Jean-Paul, the earl suspected he was taking advantage of the resultant freedom to haunt the barracks. It was time to find him a tutor.
“Luc, I’ll be away for a few days. You’ll keep an eye on the ladies for me?”
The boy straightened up immediately and his eyes held the man’s. “Yes, of course, Cousin Dominic. Where are you going, or must I not ask?”
“Nothing secret about it. I have to go to Ghent with messages. I should be home in three or four days.”
Dominic looked even more thoughtful as he went quietly up the stairs a moment later. It was rather inconvenient having to leave Brussels right now, and not just because of Luc. Pamela wouldn’t be pleased to lose his escort services, and he preferred to be on hand to look over the young men who were sure to come calling on Adrienne since her official appearance at the betrothal dinner. He had so looked forward to that evening, to making his claim on Pamela official, as it were, but it had been oddly disappointing. He didn’t think it was just in his imagination that his relations with both young women had subtly altered since the dinner, though he was hard pressed to say how or why. No, he corrected himself, that was only partly true. He knew that Adrienne was avoiding him and he supposed he knew why. She had been distressed at Pamela’s intimation that she had deliberately staged a late entrance at the party to make herself the centre of attention. Pamela was mistaken, of course; artifice wasn’t a part of Adrienne’s makeup, and she had no ambitions to cut a dash in society. He had been at pains to explain this to his love when he had escorted her home that night. She had been sweetly penitent, had even admitted with a catch in that seductive voice that she might not have behaved with generosity when Adrienne had apologized, though she had tried to make amends by inviting his cousin to sing for their guests. He had been struck almost dumb with surprise to hear Pamela confess to a tiny spurt of jealousy at seeing Adrienne so radiant and making such a hit with the young officers. Dominic had laughed at such nonsense, of course, and had taken her in his arms to assure her in the most convincing manner he could think of that there wasn’t a woman on the face of the earth who could be compared with his beautiful fiancée. It had taken all of his resolution to let her go inside that night. Her beauty and charm went straight to his head and inflamed his senses, but he had reluctantly had to deny her suggestion that they marry immediately. There was simply too much on his plate at present, what with his house full of relatives and the military situation growing daily more intense. Much as he longed to make her his, prudence dictated restraint.
Pamela hadn’t been pleased to find him beyond the reach of her cajolery on this subject, and had been treating him with a deliberate coolness ever since. She had allotted him only one dance the other night and had accepted the invitation of a Dutch officer to lead her in to supper. When they were alone, her conversation was of the most trivial, as she ignored the relationship between them and treated him like the merest acquaintance.
Engagements were an invention of the devil, he decided, giving his bedchamber door a savage shove. They tried a man’s patience, frustrated his senses, and ruined his disposition. When he had tried to kiss Pamela last night, she had pulled out of his arms with some damn fool excuse of it being better to remain at arm’s length, since their betrothal was likely to be prolonged. She was punishing him, of course; he wasn’t such a green youngster as to be taken in by her simulated regret, but he’d made the mistake of telling her so instead of accepting his dismissal and allowing her time for reflection. Naturally she had resented being challenged and had held to her story, buckle and thong — like all women, he editorialized sourly as he gave orders to his batman and sat down to write to his fiancée. The error of confronting a woman with her real motive had been driven home to him, and he had bowed in acquiescence as he bade her a polite goodnight. But he hated like the devil to be at odds with the people he cared about!
He should be pleased as punch that Pamela was no less eager than he to consummate their union — and he was! It was inevitable that a woman as admired and courted as she would become accustomed to getting her own way. It was really a wonder she wasn’t more spoiled by all the adulation. He could make allowances for some slight wilfulness. And the truly ridiculous aspect of the entire situation was that they wanted the same thing! A momentary trace of bitterness at the irony distorted his mouth; then he banished it and set out to write warmly to his beloved, aware of how much he would miss her, though it was no penance to forgo the hectic round of social activities that women seemed to find necessary to their wellbeing. Sealing the note, he gave it to his batman to deliver and went down the hall in search of Adrienne. He’d not pressured her to explain her avoidance up till now, but he didn’t like to go away without making a push to right matters. His cousin was a delightful girl, and he wanted no awkwardness to spoil the rapport that had grown up between them.
He didn’t have far to look. As he descended the stairs, Adrienne stuck her head out of the music-room door. “Is that you, Luc? Oh … Dominic! I … I beg your pardon. I was expecting Luc to come partner me in the dancing lesson.”
A knowing laugh escaped the earl. “So that explains why I met Luc sneaking out the door as I arrived.”
Adrienne’s dimples came into play as she grinned in response. “That boy is as slippery as an eel. I fear it was a mistake to tell him last night that the accompanist could not come today.”
“I’d say he shows a remarkable ability to take evasive action in the face of a suspected ambush. Will I do as a substitute?”
“Oh, no!” Adrienne backed away.
“Why the horror? I will have you to understand, Miss Castle, that I am generally accorded a more-than-adequate practitioner in the terpsichorean art.”
“You know I didn’t mean that!” Indignation chased away embarrassment. “I wouldn’t dream of taking up your time with something so unimportant. And what are you doing home at this hour, anyway?”
“I protest, cousin. I consider your introduction to the pleasures of dancing as a very important aspect of your education as a young lady of fashion.” Dominic cursed his ham-handedness as a remote look entered the aquamarine eyes.
“Yes,” she replied evenly, “it will be nice to be able to claim at least one feminine accomplishment.”
“Now, look, my dear cousin —” he didn’t pretend to misunderstand, but spoke sternly — “you would be foolish beyond permission to refine too much on what happened the other evening. A female need not be a performing monkey to be a success in society. Some of the most charming women I know neither sing nor play, my own mother among them, and yet they continue to be sought after for the qualities of their minds or the sweetness of their natures long after the performers have lost their audience. Now that you know you have only to decline if invited to play, you will not again be flustered. Pamela felt very badly that she was the cause of your embarrassment the other night, especially since she was trying to make amends for … the earlier misunderstanding.”
“Was she?” Adrienne asked in neutral tones. “How kind of her.”
“Yes, of course. If you and she had been better acquainted, she would have known you aren’t the sort of female who needs to be the centre of attention. Now,” he added, giving her no chance to ponder his words, “to answer your second question, I came home to see to some packing, a
s I’ll have to be away for a few days. Ah, Monsieur Daubigny!” as the dancing master appeared in the open doorway. “How do you do? I have offered my support to my cousin for her lesson, since her brother has absconded.”
“But, Dominic, you cannot spare the time, surely,” protested Adrienne.
“Ten minutes more or less won’t change the course of history. What are you working on at present, Monsieur Daubigny?” The earl possessed himself of his cousin’s hand and drew her into the music room.
For the next few minutes while the dancing master played for them, Dominic guided Adrienne through some of the complicated figures of the new quadrille. They had to imagine the movements of the other three couples, of course, but at least she was able to step out of the tour de deux mains and the pas de zéphyr and approximate the chain des dames, with Dominic switching roles to assist her.
“And now, Monsieur Daubigny, if you will play a waltz, I shall claim my reward,” the earl requested of the smiling teacher, who obligingly shifted to a waltz melody.
“May I have the honour, Miss Castle?”
Adrienne dropped a low curtsy in response to Dominic’s courtly bow and glided into his arms. The furniture in the music room had been pushed against the walls to create a very respectable ballroom. The earl took advantage of every foot of space, whirling her expertly around the room. Adrienne, abandoning herself to a heady sense of exhilaration like nothing she had ever known, followed him instinctively.
“May I say, Miss Castle, that the dress you are wearing, the colour of the new leaves on the chestnut trees, makes your fascinating eyes appear more green than blue today?”
Adrienne continued to gaze dreamily over his shoulder, a half-smile on her lips.
The earl drew back slightly and reminded her, “A lady is expected to do more than dance on a dance floor, Miss Castle. She is not playing her part if she neglects to acknowledge the flowery compliments paid her by her partner.”
Adrienne’s delightful chuckle fluted between them and her wide-eyed gaze met his amused eyes innocently. “Do you not mean leafy compliments, my lord? I was too busy minding my steps. I hope,” she added with unflattering directness, “that my partners, if I am ever present at a ball, will not ruin a dance by uttering inane compliments. I just love dancing, and I thank you most sincerely for arranging with Monsieur Daubigny to teach me.”
Dominic drew her a little closer and gave himself up to enjoying the moment. Let someone else instruct her in the art of receiving compliments. He had a hunch Adrienne was not going to adapt readily to being moulded into a typical debutante, but she was a natural dancer. They finished the waltz without another word being exchanged. As the music ended, Dominic glided to a stop and smiled down into the vivid little face sparkling up at him, lips parted and cheeks glowing with a faint tinge of peach. She was adorable! His teasing prediction that she would draw the young officers like a magnet was certain to be fulfilled, he realized with a little pang. It would be up to him to see that she didn’t get hurt. She was so very young, not in years, true, but in experience, although there were times when she appeared oddly wise and practical beyond her years. Not in this area, though, in the arena of male-female dalliance she was naught but a babe. And likely to be a great responsibility. A small frown creased his brow.
“Why are you frowning? I merely thanked you for the waltz. It was wonderful,” Adrienne said happily. “Is not a lady allowed to thank her partner then?”
“Of course. If I was frowning, it was because I hate to call a halt to such a delightful episode, but I really must be on my way. My compliments, Monsieur Daubigny, you have done wonders in a very short time.”
“I have been blessed with a talented pupil, milord,” countered the Frenchman smoothly, “who will do you great credit as soon as she overcomes a lamentable tendency to brush aside the gallantries of her partners.”
Dominic laughed at the guilty blush that swept up over his cousin’s throat, and pinched her chin lightly on his way out. He was still smiling a few minutes later as he climbed up on Trooper, his huge bay gelding. The prospect of a courier trip that would entail the constant exercise of diplomatic language still did not appeal, but his spirits had certainly risen as a result of the impromptu dancing lesson. The slight estrangement from his cousin had been mended, and he trusted his note to Pamela would do the same in that quarter.
Lord Creighton would have been a good deal dismayed had he been present when Lady Tremayne read his apologetic letter. It had been delivered before noon, but she had been out for lunch before driving in the park, and found herself entering the house at the same time as her brother in late afternoon. Sir Ralph flipped through the visiting cards and post and extracted one envelope, which he held up in front of his sister’s eyes. One smooth, perfectly arched brow elevated. She accepted the missive with discernible reluctance and went into the saloon. Sir Ralph strolled in after her and closed the door. He leaned against it, arms akimbo, silently watching while his sister mastered the contents of the note.
Lady Tremayne uttered an angry exclamation and tossed the single sheet of paper onto the table beside her chair. “He must imagine I have more hair than wit if he hopes to put this across.” Her fingers drummed an impatient rhythm on the tabletop. When her brother picked up the note without a by-your-leave, she made an instinctive gesture of protest, then shrugged, resuming the annoyed finger motions.
Sir Ralph looked up over the paper in his hand and said mildly, “The man has to go out of town for a few days and, very properly, if somewhat sentimentally, expresses his regret at having to leave his loving fiancée behind. What is there in that to make you twitch your tail like an angry cat?”
“He’s doing this deliberately to get back at me! He knows I have counted on his escort for several affairs in the next few days.”
Sir Ralph dropped the offending note back onto the table and pinned his sister with an acute stare. “The colonel is not a free agent, you know. He does have to execute the commands of his superiors. And why should he wish to get back at you? Have you two been quarrelling, with the betrothal announcement scarcely yesterday’s news?”
“That’s my business!” snapped his sister.
“Don’t be a fool, Pamela! I know you think you have Creighton completely under your spell, but I tell you, you could still lose him if you try to play off any of your tricks on him.”
“It’s you who are foolish! Dominic would never cry off from a public engagement. It would go against his code of honour.” Lady Tremayne gathered up her reticule and the note and prepared to leave the room. “You will have to take me about this week, Ralph.”
“I already have plans for tomorrow night. It wouldn’t hurt you to stay home for once.”
Lady Tremayne paused with her hand on the door and smiled at her brother. “If you are unable to act as my escort, I’m sure I’ll have no difficulty in finding a substitute,” she said sweetly before closing the door behind her.
Sir Ralph scowled in impotent fury at his sister’s Parthian arrow. She had him in a cleft stick, damn her! He was not so sanguine as Pamela that Creighton would go through with the marriage if his betrothed’s behaviour became totally outrageous. The earl might be a man of honour, but in Sir Ralph’s considered opinion, his sister’s uncertain temper nullified this advantage. He could envision a situation where a violent enough quarrel might result in Pamela’s flinging the ring in her fiancé’s face. This chilling thought sent him over to the desk to write a note expressing his regrets to his proposed host for declining tomorrow night’s engagement.
The next few days sped by for Adrienne, who was experiencing for the first time an exciting taste of the social whirl that constituted the daily life of the upper class. Since the dinner party, visitors had begun to leave cards at the big house in Rue Ducale. Lady Staveley called one morning with her daughters and kindly brought the earl’s relatives up to date on the on-dits floating around Brussels that spring. Dominic tried to satisfy his ladies’ curiosit
y as to Lord Wellington’s social appearances, but it was from the Staveley girls that they learned that Lady Frances Webster, whose name had once been scandalously coupled with that of the notorious Lord Byron, was being pronounced Wellington’s latest flirt. Another of Lord Byron’s former conquests, Lady Caroline Lamb, was seen everywhere about the town in her revealing dampened muslins which through repetition had ceased to have the same shock value. Adrienne grew big-eyed while Miss Staveley and Miss Eleanor revealed the inner workings of society as observed from the discreet distance permitted by their watchful mama.
Lieutenant Markham dropped in almost every day to pay his respects. Once he abandoned his line of extravagant compliments, the young officer proved to be a reasonably conversable individual, and he and Adrienne quickly got upon terms of easy friendship. Adrienne and Miss Beckworth appreciated that his good nature extended to Luc and Jean-Paul, who was permitted to rest on the day-bed in the small saloon for a period each day. The whole family was gradually widening its social circle.
Miss Beckworth and Adrienne called on Miss Forrester, who had left her card one morning while the ladies had been out shopping. As luck would have it, the general also chanced to be at home for tea that afternoon. Though his manners were polished, it was readily apparent to Adrienne that he was more than a little taken with Miss Beckworth’s quiet charm and ready wit and had every intention of remaining by her side, however many people came to call. This left Adrienne and the general’s daughter to entertain each other.
Sarah Forrester was a young woman whom it was easy to overlook in a crowd. She was of moderate height and slightly plump figure, and there was nothing especially eye-catching about her gentle features or mid-brown colouring. Her principal asset was a pair of large hazel eyes that reflected both her quiet nature and her good understanding. Adrienne had liked her at their first meeting and fully expected that future meetings would only confirm her first impressions. In the course of becoming acquainted, Miss Forrester revealed that she had acted as her father’s hostess since her mother’s death four years previously. She had accompanied the army to Spain to try to maintain a home whenever possible, and she made light of the dangers and hardships such a course entailed, the fact that her father had needed her making all other considerations irrelevant. In reply to Adrienne’s interested questions, she had described her life in Spain before the defeat of the French and contrasted it to the way she and her father spent their time in Vienna the past winter at the Congress. The young women made considerable strides along the route to friendship that afternoon.
