A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series)

by Diane Davis White

  "On the contrary, Lady Alana. It is your company I have sought. I thought perhaps you would honor me with the next waltz." Rothburn, chagrined that Alana thought him interested in her niece, was quick to disabuse her of the notion. "While your niece is a splendid dancer and quite charming, I have no wish to waste time entertaining a schoolroom miss whose idealistic sighs and romantic posturing bores me silly."

  A muffled exclamation from beyond the potted palm drew Rothburn's attention. He returned it just as quickly to Lady Alana when she chose that moment to place her hand upon his arm, a touch that burned right through the cloth of his coat.

  He stared down at the graceful curve of her fingers as they tightened on his arm, his thoughts going to where else on his person he would like those slender digits to tighten.

  "Lord Rothburn? Are you all right?" Lady Alana raised her eyebrows as the man's face paled and she felt a trembling beneath her touch.

  "What?" he asked. Then recalling where they were, Rothburn cleared his throat. "Of course, no offence intended regarding Allie. She is young and shall learn in time how to comport herself in society."

  "Oh bother that! Actually, I am glad to have your attention for there is something I wished to ask you." Lady Alana, who in truth was political-minded and had a burning desire to know all she could about the workings of Parliament, gazed with some earnestness at Rothburn.

  Searching her large directory of knowledge on parliamentary matters, she asked the first question that came into her mind. "What can you tell me about the bill before Parliament that will allow Catholics admitted to government?"

  She hesitated a moment as his brows drew together in a frown, but continued hurriedly, lest she lose his interest altogether. "I only ask because one of my dear friends is Catholic and her brother, Lord Dunning, has aspired to the House. What may I tell her?"

  Lady Alana could see that she had hit on just the right note. She watched as the earl's features melded into an enthusiastic mask. Her sincere interest notwithstanding, Lady Alana Fisk was bent on engaging the man's interest—never mind that she denied it to herself at every turn.

  The Catholic Relief Act, one of Rothburn's favorite projects, was coming before committee soon, and he was delighted to expound on it. He was also delighted to find that the lady seemed genuinely interested and appeared to understand everything he said regarding the workings of the government. Not only well informed, she had opinions of her own that showed merit.

  Lady Alana, plying her fan with some vigor, looked a coquettish glance at Rothburn. "It grows quite warm in here. Do you think we could step onto the veranda for a few moments?"

  Surprised at her own boldness, Lady Alana had, nevertheless, decided to seize the moment, for she might never have another.

  Bracing for a setdown, she was pleasantly surprised when Rothburn held out his arm for her to take. He smiled his devilishly handsome smile, white teeth gleaming between full sensuous lips. Her heart skipped.

  "My pleasure, Lady Alana. Would you like a glass of punch as well?"

  "No, I think not. Perhaps later. Just a few minutes of fresh air would revive me, I am sure."

  With those words, the couple wandered away, leaving Allie to peer over the top of the potted palm as best she could in order to view their departing backs. They moved away from her vantage point, thus depriving her of the shameful act of eavesdropping. Allie was certain she could continue her vigil, and looked around for an escort to the terrace.

  * * * * *

  The evening was balmy, the stars actually gleamed in a London sky void of its normal fogginess and the garden beyond the terrace provided the lovely fragrance of roses. Allie stood at the balustrade, her shawl draped over her bodice, her gloved hands clasped before her. The Honorable Calvin Beasley hovered near her elbow, not touching her but giving every indication of wanting to do so.

  She had little to say to this gentleman, and knew that it was improper that they should be here on the veranda, un-chaperoned.

  Allie had pressed him into service as her escort to the terrace, however, and could not be rude. When her aunt and the earl had disappeared through the French doors, she'd become almost frantic, lest she miss something important. Knowing she was the very image of a scapegrace hoyden for doing so, she could not curb the curiosity that drove her on. The newfound knowledge of Alana's beleaguered heartstrings gave credence to her pursuit—and unnatural interest in—the affaire.

  So much for all of Aunt Alana's declaration of being uninterested! Not for the first time, Allie's curiosity overcame her scruples and she was hoping to espy the couple and perhaps overhear their conversation. Sometimes it seemed that Allie was more interested in the love affairs of others than in furthering one of her own.

  She smiled wanly at her escort and tried to turn her attention back to his conversation while scouring the garden for a glimpse of the other pair. Finally, she spied her aunt's lavender gown as the couple disappeared into one of the bowers nearby. Once their location was known to her, she sent Beasley on his way to get her some punch.

  As soon as he was out of sight, she scooted down the steps into the garden, took a path parallel to her quarry and fixed herself at a location just opposite them, behind a rather large hedge. She then seated herself on a stone bench and strained her ears.

  For a long while there was no sound whatsoever, giving her pause to wonder what was going on, then she grinned as she realized they might be kissing! Her assumption was correct, of course, but she was startled when a resounding slap filled the air. Allie strained to hear the muffled voices coming through the foliage.

  "Rothburn, you are impertinent! How dare you take liberties."

  "Liberties? You practically threw yourself into my arms, inviting me to stroll in the garden. How could I be blamed for assuming your interest was not wholly political?

  "Such a ruse, wanting to know about the reform bill I've put before Parliament. I am not such a fool as to believe you truly have an interest in such things." Rothburn's voice sounded rather horse, and a bit amused.

  "And why would you presume that? You know me not well enough to presume anything regarding my interests—or my inclinations."

  "Well, be that as it may, you were not exactly a non-participant in that kiss. You enjoyed it, you must admit. I'm not stupid. I felt your response."

  "Any woman would respond to you. You have such a reputation. You have taken unfair advantage of your appeal, and I will not be trifled with. Try that again, and I will do more than slap you, 'tis certain."

  "Oh? And just what must I fear from such a delicate lady as yourself? Surely you do not think me afraid of your idle threats."

  "Idle threats? I will show you just how idle—"

  "Then I suppose I will be forced to give you cause to show me—"

  The low growl of the earl's voice was the last thing Allie heard, and a very long silence ensued. Try though she might, Allie could not see through the thick hedgerow, and she could only imagine what must be taking place on the other side.

  Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she thought over what she had just heard. Though her aunt appeared uninterested in marriage, especially to Lord Rothburn—indeed, made remonstrations to that affect—it was obvious to Allie that this was not true.

  Why else would her aunt have suggested this tête-à-tête in the garden? Allie was puzzled that her aunt would say one thing and then do the opposite. Knowing little of the ways of love Allie decided that she must learn—and soon.

  She continued to listen, but no further conversation was forthcoming, so she reluctantly gave up her post. Returning to the veranda, she found a disgruntled and scowling Mr. Beasley awaiting her with a cup of punch.

  A moment later she was alarmed to see her aunt all but running from the garden, followed more slowly by the earl, a grin of smug satisfaction on his face and his cravat slightly crumpled. Allie had to know more.

  Her desire to meddle came to the fore with such force she was amazed to realize it. Being a
n adventurous young miss, she decided to engage Lord Rothburn in conversation and discover what she could regarding his feelings toward her aunt. She already knew what her aunt's feelings were—it was obvious.

  * * * * *

  "Lord Rothburn. A moment please." Allie practically ran to the edge of the veranda, leaving poor Beasley still holding the glass of punch and looking after her with some alarm. "I would have a word with you."

  She smiled prettily and curtsied as she came to a halt before the peer. Her next words were forestalled by the earl's blunt speech.

  "Well, be quick, child. You have left your escort waiting in a manner most rude." The earl, impatient to get back into the ballroom and keep an eye on Lady Alana, spoke curtly. It seemed to have little effect on Allie.

  "Why must everyone call me a child?" Seeing the look of imperious rage distort Lord Rothburn's features at her digression, she hurried on, the words tumbling from her mouth. "Actually, I wondered if you could call on us tomorrow and take my Aunt Alana and myself to ride in the park. Gordon promised to do so but he has been charged with other duties, and I would not want to miss out—"

  "Well, of all the—" Rothburn, not misled in the least by her request, understood of a sudden her match-making maneuver, and he went from being extremely aggravated to exceedingly diverted.

  Making a quick decision, he spoke in a kind tone, giving the girl respect for her pluckiness. "If your aunt wishes, I shall call on the pair of you at one o'clock. Send a note to my lodgings to let me know."

  He then bowed circumspectly, first to Allie then to Beasley before striding quickly away. The earl was certain that there would be no getting Alana to comply with such a request, not after what had just occurred in the garden. He frowned at the disappointment following that thought.

  What should it matter if the lady had no interest in him? Though her response to his wooing had been ardent, to say the least. Rothburn was no green boy to be fooled by a lady's manipulations. Her invitation into the garden had been more than concern regarding his current political concerns. She had a motive, he just could not think what it would be.

  Ladies of quality—unmarried ones at any rate—did not make illicit assignations with men. Though flirtatious, she had disdained to comply with his rather advanced lovemaking. Yes, her behavior puzzled, but he would solve the enigma, or he was not The Sixth Earl of Rothburn.

  Returning to the crush in the ballroom, he searched for Lady Alana and upon seeing her seated with a group of spinsters at the opposite end of the room, he could not help be amused at her ploy to avoid him. No man who valued his hide ventured near that group of harridans without some strong purpose.

  Well, he would venture forth and show the lady that he was no coward to be quelled by a mere slap on his cheek, and so he bridged the distance, threading his way through the throng with much determination.

  The earl never stopped to think why he should go to so much trouble over a woman who was trying to avoid him. A woman who had captured his attention as no other. A woman whose sparkling blue eyes had seen into his very soul, whose soft intelligent voice had pricked his interest and sent chills down his spine.

  In the throes of bewilderment over his choice, the earl approached the group, ignoring the disapproving looks he received from that quarter.

  "Lord Rothburn is smitten, no doubt about it. The look upon his face is bemused indeed," one elderly woman in a starched ruff—a fashion fifty-years gone—whispered loudly behind her fan.

  The earl looked at her sharply, then forced a smile, recalling his need for the good graces of these matrons. Almack's could be a veritable hell-hole without the attending matron's patronage. Even Wellington had met with their disapproval and denied admittance for being late.

  Bowing to the sour-faced line, he smiled his most beguiling. "Ladies, I believe I have lost my dance partner. Pray excuse the intrusion."

  Simpering and tittering at the unaccustomed attention, several of the elderly women eyed the virile young man with open regard. He shuddered inwardly at the thought of having to dance with any of them. Then he turned, as though surprised at her presence and bowed once again—before Lady Alana—as he spoke in the most innocent of voices, "Ah! There you are. Had you forgotten? This is our waltz I believe."

  Other than give these formidable old ladies grist for their gossip mill, Alana had no choice but to accept his outstretched hand and rise for the dance. Under cover of the music, she murmured to him in a voice discordant with exasperation. "I thought you'd withdraw this foolish pursuit once you knew I have no interest."

  She refused to think how her heart had beaten more quickly upon spying his approach.

  "Pursuit?" The earl raised his eyebrows innocently and raised his voice just a decibel. "I only wish to dance with you. That is not pursuit. Inviting me to escort you to the gardens could perhaps be considered—pursuit."

  He grinned as he grabbed her about the waist, ignoring her stiffly indignant posture. With his other hand firmly grasping hers, swirled her into the waltz as his eyes caught and held hers in a most impudent manner. "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much."

  Many eyes were on the couple as they graced the floor with expertise, dipping and swirling to the music, eyes only for each other. Speculation was rampant in some quarters and bets would be placed at White's before this night was done as to the state of Rothburn's matrimonial plans.

  * * * * *

  Sir Gordon and Lady Eleanor stood with her mother, sipping punch and speaking in casual tones, seemingly unconcerned by the display of her would-be suitor and his aunt.

  The Countess of Avonleigh, however, evinced some concern, for her plans in that area were not served by the current situation. Though she liked Sir Gordon well enough, he had no title— a sore point with her.

  Her daughter, however, seemed oblivious to Rothburn's behavior and intent on the knight's conversation, appearing to hang on his every word.

  Bets would be placed on that circumstance as well, and the odds favored a change of alliance.

  Chapter Four

  ~~

  "Allie! Do attend me when I speak to you!" Alana stood with hands on hips, her face a mask of unbridled fury. "I cannot understand how you could be so forward as to invite a gentleman to accompany us in the park. It is for the gentleman to invite you—or us, if you will.

  "I will send 'round a note declining immediately and hope that word of this does not get about. You would be a laughing stock were it known that you have acted in such a bold and indecent manner."

  "But, Auntie—" Allie tried, unsuccessfully, to interrupt the tirade. Her pretty face was blotched with tears of frustration and humiliation. Glossy curls bounced as she twisted to look out the window, avoiding the angry woman before her.

  Botheration! No matter what she did, someone was always there to scold. It wasn't as though she were doing this for herself. She only wanted to further a courtship between her aunt and the earl, but of course, she could not say so. It was all so frustrating.

  "No buts, Allie." Alana turned her back on the mischief-making girl and went to the secretary at the end of the room, seated herself and took up note paper and pen, talking all the while. "You have managed to embarrass me, disgrace yourself and court gossip. And to what end, may I ask? You have shown no interest in the earl. In fact you told me yourself that he was beyond your aspirations. What possessed you?"

  Holding up a hand, she forbade an answer and continued in a voice only a bit less irritated. "Never tell me. I do not wish to know the workings of your devious mind. In future, however, you will consult with me before you indulge such a whim. Clear?"

  "Yes. It is clear, Aunt Alana." Allie spoke in a deferential voice that belied her true feelings on the matter. It would not do to anger her sponsor further at this point.

  She had another plan forming already, despite her aunt's warnings, and would put it into action as soon as possible. Excusing herself, she went to her rooms to write a note of her own. She would not be
led by her elders in this matter. To her mind, she was grownup.

  Sanding the paper to dry the ink, Allie took her missive and re-read the note. Satisfied herself it was correct, then summoned the footman, instructing him to deliver it along with the one Lady Alana would give him.

  "And Peterson—" the girl swallowed, then continued, "please keep this note to yourself. It is no one's concern but my own."

  "As you wish, Miss." Peterson, not one to defy his betters, agreed with a small bow and quit the room, note clutched firmly in his hand. A few moments later, he was accosted by Lady Alana who presented him with another missive.

  "Take this 'round to Lord Rothburn quickly. I shall require a response, so be sure to convey that and wait for it." Lady Alana handed over a perfumed envelope addressed to The Earl of Rothburn. The one in his pocket was addressed to the earl as well.

  "Yes, My Lady. Immediately, My Lady." Peterson, wondering just what was afoot, took himself off at a hastened pace, driven by the urgency in milady's tone.

  Fond of this family though he was, at times he was hard put to understand the workings of their minds. Oh well, he concluded, it was not his place to comprehend his betters, his job was to do their bidding. With even more haste, he moved along the crowded London street and stopped just a few blocks down the row, at the residence of The Earl of Rothburn.

  * * * * *

  "My Lord. There is a message for you. Two, actually." The butler held out the small tray upon which resided two envelopes, both perfumed and written in obviously feminine hand. This did not surprise the butler, accustomed to his lordships forays with ladies, but what did surprise him was the fact that they came from the same household—at the same time.

  Rather mysterious. "An answer is requested, Milord. I will have the messenger await you in the hall."

  "Thank you, Jenks." He thought for a moment then continued. "Take him to the kitchens and give the fellow a glass of ale, and give him a liberal tip. I shall be a few moments."