The Last Waltz: Hearts are at stake in the game of love... (Dorothy Mack Regency Romances)

by Dorothy Mack

  When the exhilaration that accompanied anger had dissipated, Lady Tremayne had found herself seriously analysing the afternoon’s confrontation. Her parting shot at Dominic had been an instinctive retaliation for his reference to her admirers. The more she considered his stunned reaction, however, the more uneasy she became in her mind. Was his reaction due to shock at her accusation or to some sudden knowledge of his feelings for his cousin? What a colossal fool she would be to set him to questioning his feelings for the red-haired chit!

  Abruptly she thrust back her chair from the dressing table and rose. She glided over to the window and gazed out on the street below, nearly deserted at this early-evening hour. There was no doubting Dominic’s passion for herself at the beginning, but of late had he been less eager to seize her in his arms at every opportunity? She put up a forefinger to smooth out the frown between her brows. If it were true that he was less enamoured at present, she would have to accept the responsibility for having mishandled the affair. It had seemed prudent to keep him at arm’s length to give herself more space in which to manoeuvre. Count Levèque had been pursuing her with a vengeance that was promising, but thus far he had not committed himself to the extent of a firm proposal. She was not worried that Dominic would cry off — his rigid code of behaviour would preclude such an action — but perhaps she would do well to smooth over this quarrel and throw some sops his way. It might even provoke the count’s jealousy enough to prompt him to come up to scratch. If it could be accomplished, she would prefer to marry Levèque. He was an exciting companion, and he would certainly make a more complaisant husband than Dominic. The more she learned of the latter, the more she was inclined to agree with Ralph that he was not the man to allow his wife to go her own way unchecked. Perhaps she had acted rashly in pursuing Dominic to Brussels, but their financial situation had grown too precarious to remain in Vienna, and it had seemed wasteful in the extreme to let such a rich prize escape. Well, she still had her bird in the hand, she thought grimly, and she would see to it that no little chit as green as grass enticed him back into the bush, at least not until she had bigger game safely in her sights.

  This afternoon Dominic had accused her of not caring enough for him to become jealous. The irony lay in the fact that her feelings toward Adrienne Castle could best be described as jealousy over her position in Dominic’s affections. One didn’t have to love a man to resent his partiality for another woman. She considered passingly whether her best course might be to confess to jealousy and undying love, but firmly dismissed the idea. She was too annoyed with her fiancé to put herself in the humiliating position of begging for understanding. Thanks to his ingrained sense of honour, matters weren’t that desperate. The most sensible approach was to simply ignore the incident and see to it that Dominic did not feel neglected in the days to come. It might be just the impetus needed to propel Henri Levèque to action. Or the long anticipated battle might take place and be done with so that Dominic would be compelled to set a date for their marriage. If this ambivalent situation went on much longer, she would be quite run off her legs. Today’s post had consisted of three bills, including a dunning letter from Madame Henriette. She’d have to order another gown from the modiste to keep her quiet a little longer.

  Lady Tremayne gathered her poise about her like a protective cloak as she prepared to leave the sanctuary of her room. The only thing wanting to set the seal on this horrible day would be to have Ralph start criticizing the way she treated her fiancé. After one last comprehensive look at her reflection, she fastened a determined smile on her lips and headed for the door.

  To the discomfiture of both ladies, Lord Creighton gave neither the opportunity to put into immediate action her plan of conduct with respect to him. Indeed, he was singularly elusive over the next few days. Before Adrienne could pen a note cancelling their ride on the morning after the review, a message was delivered to her bedchamber containing Dominic’s excuses, citing the press of work at present for his inability to spare the time to ride with his cousin. Work must have multiplied alarmingly, for she did not even lay eyes on him during the next three days. He was gone each morning before she came down to breakfast, and though he must have dined somewhere during this period, it was not at his own table.

  Lady Tremayne was more fortunate in that her betrothed did at least put in an appearance at those social functions that had been on his calendar. When it came to advancing her plan to allow him a greater share of her time, however, she was defeated by the lack of cooperation on the part of the intended beneficiary. Dominic danced with her at each affair, took her in to supper if she had not made other arrangements, and paid her the required number of elegantly phrased compliments on her looks. He even escorted her home if her brother was not present to perform that office. But without her quite realizing how he accomplished the feat, he managed to avoid any intimacy in conversation, and though he kissed her at parting, there was none of the ardour in his manner with which he had embraced her a month ago. Since her beckoning looks and intimate smiles had no appreciable effect, she was left with no recourse except to bide her time and pretend that nothing had changed between them.

  At first, Adrienne experienced almost pure relief at being spared the ordeal of hiding her love by Dominic’s convenient absence, but such is the perversity of women that she yet yearned for the danger she most feared. It might be a torment to see him dancing attendance on Lady Tremayne, but not to see him at all rendered every day a uniform grey blank.

  Which is not to say that she retired to her room to nurse her broken heart in solitude. By now, the Castles had been drawn into considerable participation in the active social life of Brussels, and Adrienne could not have turned hermit even had that been her dearest wish. She and Becky paid and received calls with some regularity. Her inherently gregarious nature found something of interest in most humans who crossed her path. If her palms tended to become damp and her breathing irregular whenever the saloon door opened, no one was the wiser, for she maintained a creditable control over her facial expression and refused to acknowledge even to herself that all her senses were straining for the sight or sound of her cousin.

  The insouciant Lieutenant Markham was a frequent caller at the house on Rue Ducale, and Major Peters was sometimes able to find reasons to desert Ninove for Brussels. One day he escorted Miss Beckworth and Adrienne to a picnic arranged by Lady Staveley in the lovely beech forest of Soignes, south of the city on the Nivelles road. Dominic was not among those enjoying the cool, sweet woodland air, though there were a number of officers present, their red, blue, and green coats providing foils for the pale pastel muslins of the young ladies. In Brussels itself, the fine June weather attracted people to the park in droves. Adrienne and Sarah Forrester often strolled along the curving paths, admiring the flowers and feeding the swans that frequented the ornamental water. On a couple of occasions, Adrienne or Miss Beckworth took Jean-Paul out for an airing in the carriage, which marked a giant step forward in his convalescence.

  On the day after the review, Adrienne had approached Becky about setting a date for their departure to England and had found her open to the suggestion. The ladies were in agreement that Jean-Paul was improved to the point where he could withstand the voyage with no danger of relapse. It only remained to clear the plan with Dominic, which Becky undertook to do at the first opportunity. She had a pretty fair conception of Adrienne’s emotional state, though the topic was never mentioned between them. Certainly all references to the engaged pair on Miss Beckworth’s part ceased as they directed their energies toward the problem of packing up their belongings, though nothing could actually be done until Dominic was apprised of their intention and had set the wheels in motion.

  Adrienne was beginning to chafe at her cousin’s continued inaccessibility when Dominic appeared in the saloon late one morning when the ladies were entertaining callers. He had a stylish young female in tow, whom he proceeded to present to his relatives. Lady Georgiana Lennox confessed tha
t she had begged Colonel Creighton to effect an introduction to his cousins so that they might be included in the ball that her parents were hosting the following week.

  “My mother would have come with me today, ma’am,” Lady Georgiana assured Miss Beckworth, “only that she has one of her bad heads this morning and felt she was not fit company for anyone. However, she charged me to present her compliments and deliver the invitation personally to you and Miss Castle. I hope you will come,” she urged, turning to Adrienne with a friendly smile. “It should be a lovely party. Mama is determined to eclipse the Duke, who has secured the royal family for his own ball later this month.”

  Lady Georgiana’s infectious smile commanded a return from Adrienne. “If we are still in town we will be delighted to come, your ladyship, but we are making plans to remove from Brussels shortly and may have left by then.”

  “What nonsense is this?” Dominic demanded sharply, his head spinning back from greeting Major Peters. “Jean-Paul will not be ready to travel for some weeks yet.”

  Adrienne mustered up a steadying breath and faced her cousin squarely. “Becky and I are agreed that he is strong enough now to make the journey,” she returned, her eyes meeting his unwaveringly.

  “We will talk of this later,” Dominic said with his lazy smile, “after the doctor has pronounced Jean-Paul fit for travel.”

  Good manners demanded that Adrienne refrain from continuing the argument in company. She produced a noncommittal smile and set about making their new acquaintance feel welcome. This did not prove to be an onerous task. Lady Georgiana was a naturally friendly person with a well-bred ease of manner that never deserted her in social situations. Since part of Adrienne’s mind was busy grappling with a new problem, this was just as well. She responded to Lady Georgiana’s overtures and bore her share of the general conversation with a smile on her lips that disguised a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Though very little had actually been said, a knowledge deep in her bones told her Dominic was disposed to be difficult on the subject of their immediate departure for England.

  Over the next few days, Adrienne’s foreboding was proved correct. It seemed that Dr. Hume was every bit as elusive as Dominic. Their requests that he examine his small patient at his earliest convenience were met with put-offs and half-promises that still had not resulted in a visit three days later. Coincidence? Perhaps, but Adrienne, rapidly declining into a dangerous mood compounded of unhappiness and impatience, didn’t credit it for a moment.

  “It’s all Dominic’s doing!” she declared angrily when Miss Beckworth ventured to excuse the doctor’s absence on the probable grounds of overwork. “He is determined to keep us here twiddling our thumbs until it suits his convenience to confer his gracious permission to leave. I’ve half a mind to simply pack up and go!”

  “We could never behave in such a scaly fashion after all that Dominic has done for us!” cried Miss Beckworth, alarmed at the ill-controlled passion in her charge’s demeanour. “It would be to sink quite beneath reproach. Besides,” she added in a practical spirit, “there is no possibility of such an action; we haven’t the resources.”

  “We are in fact in exactly the same case as we were before we ever set eyes on Dominic!” fumed Adrienne, storming about the room, unable to sit still in her irritation.

  Miss Beckworth elected to withhold the contradiction this blatant misstatement merited. She also choked back the sympathy she longed to extend to the girl she loved, knowing it would not be well received. Adrienne needed to fight this battle alone. Acceptance never came easily to one of her passionate temperament. By nature she was a doer, one who would always find a passive role a real penance. Sighing, Miss Beckworth returned her eyes to her embroidery, though her covert attention remained with Adrienne, who was still prowling about, now with a thoughtful frown creasing her forehead. A little pleat formed across her own brow as uneasiness stirred somewhere behind her consciousness. The last time Adrienne had worn that look of deep concentration, the result had been her crack-brained plan to disguise her identity in order to visit a gaming establishment. Her companion could only hope this session of serious mental effort did not spawn an even more outrageous scheme.

  CHAPTER 16

  Miss Beckworth’s instinctive misgivings were inaccurate only in that they led her to fear some new action on Adrienne’s part that would prove to be inappropriate, dangerous, or worse. Actually, it was her original scheme that was again seducing the girl’s mind. Inaction was anathema to Adrienne. It was not in her nature to sit back and wait for better times to arrive, nor could she abide being at the mercy of other people’s judgments when they concerned her. With the clarity of hindsight, she could see that putting themselves in Dominic’s hands had been a mistake. Just what options they’d had at the critical moment was a question she preferred not to address at present. It was a lack of funds that had landed them in their dependent position; therefore, it followed logically that the possession of money would achieve their former independence.

  The only avenue open to her to acquire money was, as before, gambling. Her brain was functioning efficiently and coolly now, assessing the probable obstacles and difficulties. The primary obstacle to be overcome was Miss Beckworth, who would fight tooth and nail against her scheme, so it would be advisable all round to leave Becky ignorant of her intentions. She laid her plans accordingly. They were scheduled to attend a card party at the Forresters’ this evening. A last-minute indisposition would serve to free her from the obligation. Naturally Becky would be reluctant to cancel on such short notice. Adrienne counted on Becky’s unadmitted predilection for General Forrester’s society to reinforce her own insistence that her friend go ahead without her.

  In the end, matters fell out exactly as Adrienne hoped. She toyed with her dinner and mentioned a slight queasiness when questioned about her lack of appetite. She denied any other symptoms and allowed the suggestion that she might be coming down with something to originate with Becky, even protesting mildly when her duenna prescribed a good night’s rest to ward off any invading infections. Becky overrode her insistence that she felt perfectly capable of sitting at a card table and departed for the Forresters’ as scheduled, after seeing the girl off to her bedchamber with a cup of camomile tea.

  Dominic had sent word earlier that he had ridden to Charleroi and would be away from Brussels overnight. Taking this as a good omen for the success of her venture, Adrienne proceeded to don the golden wig and change into the despised blue gown as soon as the carriage rolled away from the door. Luc and Jean-Paul were engaged in a marathon chess game in the study, leaving the coast clear for Adrienne to slip into Miss Beckworth’s room to appropriate some money for her stake. She had turned her winnings over to Becky after the previous gambling adventures. They had not been obliged to disburse any monies since coming to Dominic’s house, except for small personal expenses, so there was a goodly sum remaining. She shook off the guilty feeling that assailed her at the thought of helping herself; tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about the morality of her action. For tonight her course was charted. She’d had the foresight to bribe Antoine to call her a cab and keep watch to let her back in on her return. Deciding that she’d made all the advance preparations of a general planning a military campaign, she silently closed the door to Becky’s bedchamber and ran softly down the stairs, draping a lace shawl over her head like a mantilla to conceal the blond wig.

  Three hours later, a jubilant Adrienne was confident that the gods and Lady Luck were sitting at her elbow tonight. She had elected to visit Madame Mireille’s, influenced by an impression from her former visit that a greater number of females were among the habitués of this establishment. Perhaps it was the calm of desperation, or simply a new poise acquired through recent social exposure, but she blended in casually with the other guests tonight and was able to select her prospective victim at will. Again she sustained the character of a non-English speaking Bruxelloise. Her opponent, a burly, genial Englishma
n of early-middle years, was a careless cardplayer, as much interested in conducting a limping flirtation in fractured French as he was in the contest. Adrienne parried his advances cheerfully but mechanically, her primary attention concentrated on her cards. The results were most gratifying.

  “Piqued, re-piqued, and capotted, by God!” Mr. Hinckley exclaimed at the end of the third rubber. “Young lady, if I had a hat I’d raise it to your skill!”

  “Merci, Monsieur Hinckley. Vous êtres très gentil, un vrai gentilhomme.” Adrienne’s dimples flashed as she smilingly accepted her winnings from her vanquished opponent when he had totted up the score.

  “Mademoiselle Giroude, it has been a real pleasure. I trust you will allow me an opportunity for revenge in the near future?”

  Adrienne looked up from tucking the money in her reticule, straight into the narrowed eyes of her cousin’s betrothed. Her own eyes widened in consternation for a second before she wrenched her gaze back to Mr. Hinckley and murmured a conventional phrase of delight at the prospect of another meeting. Through a veil of curling lashes, she saw Lady Tremayne whisper something to the man to whose arm she had been clinging. Panic swept through Adrienne. She muttered an excuse to her partner and rose precipitately, but she hadn’t gone two steps when a hand grasped her arm above the elbow.

  “Just one moment, if you please, Mademoiselle Giroude. I should like a word with you.”