Lady Eleanor thought she might swoon, so heated was her blood, such throbbing did she feel through the lower regions of her body.
The couple rose, eyes locked in unspoken regard. They turned, hands linked fast as they walked quickly back through the green pathways of the maze, to find her father. It wasn't difficult, for the man was in his library.
"We do need to wait until Lady Eleanor has been given time to cry off from Rothburn." Sir Gordon sat in the library of Messinger House, a glass of Port at his elbow, staring earnestly at Lord Avonleigh.
"Has Rothburn truly agreed to this?" The older man did not look as convinced as he had earlier, having had time to think things over. "As I said, I would not have you quarreling in public over the girl. Too much scandal would put my wife in a swoon she might never recover from."
"Yes you can be sure that he has agreed. Just last evening I dined at his mother's and I can assure you that Rothburn is in complete agreement."
"Well, then, I have a plan. Of course, you must agree to it, but I thought of sending a discreet note to the Times, care of the society column, hinting a change in my daughter's marriage plans. It would be a good start and no one would be surprised when next we announce your betrothal. What think you?"
"I think, Milord, that you have a very cunning way about you and I like it well."
* * * * *
Rothburn, allowing for his night of sleeplessness and having only three hours rest, was quite refreshed when he came into the study at just after four that afternoon. He spied Griffin, mouth open and snoring lightly, sprawled in his favorite fireside chair.
"Naturally, you would take the chair I normally use," Rothburn murmured, as he nudged his cousin to wake him up. "I say, have you had plenty of rest? Enjoying my favorite chair, hmmm?"
Laughing lightly, he watched Griffin come awake with a start and flush guilty for having appropriated yet another of the earl's favorite seats.
The younger man made to rise, and was pushed back down by Rothburn, "No need to get up just yet. We're due at the Pendleton's for dinner in just under three hours. Thought we'd have a quick chat."
Rothburn went to the bell pull and ordered tea, with scones, jam and butter. "Light repast, tide us over 'til dinner. Though Pendleton tells me his cook has been ill and their food is not much to brag about these days. May need to come home and eat again."
Grinning at his little quip, the earl sat comfortably in the chair opposite—the one usually reserved for guests—and leaned back, crossing his legs at the ankle. "But we'll clear this up. No doubt of it."
Griffin asked uncertainly, "Do you think Allie will see me? I mean, she was quite angry when she ran from me that night."
Rothburn, not having heard this story before, lifted his eyebrows in encouragement. "Do go on, Griffin. Whatever was she angry about?"
"Well, she had this damnable idea of—oh, I don't know. Perhaps I shouldn't say. It would be a breach of confidence, would it not?" Griffin wanted very much to share his story, but wanted reassurance that he did not trespass on Allie's sensibilities.
"If the lady did not swear you to secrecy, I should think it would be permissible to tell me. I vow not a word will leave this room, for we are family are we not?" Rothburn, his curiosity peaked beyond measure and willing to be amused for awhile, encouraged Griffin shamelessly.
"She wanted me to write a love letter—well, two actually. One to Lady Alana, signing your name—of course—and one to Lady Eleanor, signing that of her brother. Said it would help things along as the four of you didn't seem to know which way was up when it came to romance."
The earl shook with silent laughter as Griffin continued. "She also wanted me to arrange a meeting for each of you. A secret rendezvous, if you will. Candlelight, music, all that. It was really quite silly, I know, but she was very much in earnest."
His cousin guffawed loudly and Griffin looked at him with resentment at this point, feeling his laughter inappropriate. "Allie has a good heart, and would do just anything for those she loves. Can't fault her for that."
Catching the note of censure in Griffin's voice, the earl set his features into a more suitable arrangement of serious demeanor. "Of course, you are right Griffin. I applaud the girl for thinking of others before herself. I agree that Allie is very special—very special indeed."
"I am worried though. She was very angry when she ran from me, and I have not spoken with her since. I did write her a letter, same day I got yours, but before that, you know." Griffin swallowed the lump in his throat and his voice lowered considerably. "Told her I wasn't ready to wed, wasn't in a position to offer for her. Said she'd best look elsewhere."
"Well, old fellow," the earl expounded with sympathy, "you'll soon get a chance to allow the lady to forgive you, or condemn you to Hades." He smiled ruefully before adding, "As they all do now and then—condemn us to Hades, that is. You have to learn to woo a lady from her tantrums. Women are as likely to swing one way as another, fey creatures they are. Up to us men to keep them on an even keel and out of trouble."
* * * * *
"Allie, I'm sure that if you agree to see Griffin you will feel better for having done so." Lady Alana pleaded with her charge, having been at it for over an hour. "I know how you must feel, truly I do."
She arose from her seat and followed Allie to the window. She pulled the girl around to face her. "I, too, have been in your position. There was a young man once who had actually given me his ring—secretly of course. I was so in love and thought I'd never get over it when he went to the continent with his father, met a Russian heiress and married her.
"Imagine how humiliated I was when he came back with a bride. It was all the talk of the ton for weeks and I was pitied. Pitied and despised."
"Despised?" Allie's interest had been caught at last. She gazed at her aunt. "Why would anyone despise you for being jilted?"
Lady Alana led her charge back to the settee, talking all the while. "Well, you see, if a young lady is overlooked for marriage for whatever reason, she becomes something of an oddity. People are wont to believe she has done something very bad to deserve such treatment. Most always, it is never the man's fault in the eyes of society."
"Is that why you were all so concerned that Griffin had gone away? You do not truly think that I have done anything bad, do you, Aunt?"
Allie, trembling on the verge of tears at the very thought of being ostracized in such a manner, spoke in a pleading voice. "I have only kissed Griffin or he kissed me, that is. I—I guess we kissed each other, but it does not signify. Is kissing the man you love so very wrong?"
"No, dearest Allie, it is not so very wrong." Lady Alana spoke in a soft voice, eyes going dreamy as she remembered Rothburn's hot kisses, voice sad as she recalled her hurtful angry words to him last night.
"Of course," she amended, "a lady does not go about kissing every gentleman who asks, or does not ask—but just does it. A lady resists such attentions until she is properly engaged."
"Even if she is, well, older and more experienced?" Allie's voice was sly and so was her look, and the obvious point she was making caused Lady Alana to burst into laughter at having been caught out as a fraud. Her allusion was, of course, to Alana herself being kissed by the earl and they were nowhere near engaged.
"Allie, of course you must know that a girl will be kissed without being engaged. I think what I'm trying to say is that you should not allow a gentleman to kiss—indeed, even touch—your person with any sort of familiarity unless you have an acquaintance of some long standing and three weeks is not long standing enough."
"Then why are there so many couples wandering in the gardens at every ball? They moon about, holding hands and sneaking off into dark corners—everyone does."
Allie was becoming slightly confused by the obvious double standard she was being presented with. "Have you not gone off into the garden yourself with Rothburn?"
"Allie!" Lady Alana, confounded by this full frontal attack, could only stare at th
e girl, and wish herself elsewhere. For the first time since she had taken on the mantle of chaperone, she was sorry she had done so. She in fact felt quite inadequate to the task and rather soiled by Allie's observation. "I know not what to say."
"Well, it seems to me you and Rothburn are practically a couple and being older, should do as you please." Allie, realizing she had hurt her aunt, tried to smooth over her gaffe. She reached for Lady Alana's hand and tucked it into hers with a charming smile.
"I truly do not think you wrong and I can see that you are telling me things to protect me. I shall do as you ask. I will see Griffin and hear him out and forgive him, if I can." In her heart of hearts she wanted to do so at any rate, but giving her aunt the small gift of her cooperation was the least she could do to make up for her faux pas.
"Sweet child, I knew you would eventually see." Lady Alana stopped in absolute surprise at the look of anger that passed over Allie's face. "What is it? What have I said?"
"You keep calling me a child." Allie was miffed but she could not help noting her aunt's real distress and added, "I know that I have behaved badly, been rather difficult, but I am not a child. I wish that you would not think of me or speak of me as such. It would be very helpful, I am sure, were all of you to allow me to grow up."
"I am sorry Allie, truly I am. I have known you all of your life and it just seems natural to me to do so." Alana drew herself up with purpose and fixed the girl with a steady and sincere gaze. "I will not do it again, I promise. If I forget, you just remind me—but gently, please, until I get it straight. I can see that you are a young woman and no child at all."
With that she gently bussed the girl's forehead with her lips and arose with graceful ease. "We really should dress for dinner now. What are you going to wear?"
As the two of them went up the stairs, arm in arm, their voices were quite merry, deep in a discussion of the merits of one gown over another for catching the eye of a particular man.
Allie's laughter rang out as they reached the second floor landing. Her aunt went into a mock swoon, her hands held to her breast in supplication as she imitated a swain—overcome by desire—pleading for a kiss.
Sir Gordon, coming from his library at that moment, was glad to see the pair of them laughing and lighthearted, for it had been some time since Allie had shown any spark of her usual bubbling personality.
He wondered, however, if it would last after she had seen and spoken with Griffin tonight. Lost in thought, he wandered back into his sanctum, hands clasped behind him as he began to pace, a worrisome frown once more upon his countenance.
Chapter Fifteen
~~
"So glad you could join us, Countess. It has been ages since our home has been adorned with such grace and charm as you possess." Sir Gordon handed his best friend's mother into a comfortable chair.
"I am sure that Lady Alana and my sister Allie will be joining us in a few moments. Being a woman, you must know how they are primping and agonizing over their toilette."
"Yes, all for you thankless males." Countess Rothburn gave each of the three men in the room an arch look, even her son.
"Griffin, I do hope you appreciate what Allie has been through on your behalf. Bear in mind our previous chat regarding your manners."
As his mother's elder sister, Countess Rothburn took the role of parent and admonished the boy in spades. She and her sister had married the George brothers, thus the earl and Griffin were double cousins.
Satisfied she'd put the fear into him, she had done her usual and reverted to benevolence and sweet gentility. Lady Susan was an eccentric, to be sure, yet a lively and interesting one. No one ever censured her or left her presence with anything but good feelings.
"Who else is in company tonight?" Rothburn, noting his friend's slight edginess, thought a mysterious guest might be the cause. Surely he was not still agonizing over Allie and Griffin.
"Just us, I'm afraid. But I promise you, it will not be a dull evening." Sir Gordon's frayed nerves were indeed due to the upcoming meeting of the two youngest members of the party. He could only smile distractedly at his little joke. "Anyone for a drink? Countess Rothburn?"
"We shall have sherry, I think, Gordon" Lady Alana's voice drifted to them from the corridor as she and her charge came into the room. "Allie is quite old enough, I believe, to join us as well."
She swept forward in a breathtaking display of gracious beauty. Rothburn became very still as he watched her cross the room to his mother. Her dark hair, piled high in an elaborate chignon, left her graceful white neck bare. He longed to put his lips to that spot on her nape where the hair grew into a small swirl.
"Is that agreeable to you My Lady?" She reached the older woman and stood before her, sketching a graceful curtsey and bent to take up the elder's proffered hand in both of hers. "You really should have been a duchess. It would seem so natural to kiss your ducal ring."
Alana grinned and her ladyship grinned in response. The pair, it would seem, were becoming fast friends.
Allie, hovering at the door, drew a deep breath and gathered her courage as she stepped forward into the room. Her eyes were trained on the Countess as she dared not look around and see Griffin. Her chin lifted in the haughty manner of a incomparable—for tonight Allie felt like a diamond of the first water as she crossed the room in imitation of her aunt's sweeping movements.
The effect she had on the males was astounding as her graceful dress of deep sea green swirled around her. Her hair—also piled into a chignon with wispy curls dangling around her face and neck—glistened in the candle glow. The firelight picked out the gold highlights in the amber. Allie's delicate complexion glowed with youthful health and her high color was not due to any artifice.
The deep sapphire of her eyes glistened with many emotions and her wide, engaging smile hid her inner turmoil quite successfully. Somewhere between tea time and dinner, Allie had been transformed into a young woman and no trace of the child she had been was in evidence tonight.
Sir Gordon, mouth agape as he watched his baby sister sweep elegantly across the room, could hardly believe his eyes. Even Rothburn, whose penchant for ladies had never included the very young ones, was rather stunned to see the woman emerge from the girl. But it was Griffin whose reaction was most pronounced.
He had left behind, three weeks before, a girl of sweet disposition and the promise of beauty. Poised and elegant, she now swept past him without a glance. He viewed her delectable profile, bosom swelling over the décolletage of her gown, white throat adorned with small sparkling diamonds, her tiny shell like ears sparkling with the shiny gems as well.
Griffin suddenly could not breathe and his heart raced as though to jump clear from his chest. Blood pounded in his ears and other places of his body and Griffin's legs grew weak at the sight of this woman.
His woman, he thought with some wonder. His—if he could win her regard—and he intended to make it so.
Allie came to a halt before the Countess and curtseyed with as much grace as her aunt had done, then she smiled at the older woman and her eyes sparkled in the firelight. "Welcome to our home."
Her words clearly conveyed her status as a full member of the adult community and she was gratified when Lady Susan smiled upon her with full acceptance and did not call her child.
"Countess, may I present my sister, Allie. Allie, The Countess of Rothburn." Sir Gordon, who had come to his senses as the girl approached his guest, scurried across the room to present her.
"I'm sure, Allie, that you can keep Countess Rothburn entertained with your stories of recent events of the ton." He then went quickly away, for Allie had given him a questioning look that had swiftly turned to anger. Was he then alluding to her current dilemma with Beasley? How dare he?
"Sit here Allie and Lady Alana, you here." Lady Susan, commanding as usual, placed the two younger women where she could see them both, but they could not see each other—a small whim of hers. "Now, do tell me young woman, what is going
on in the ton these days?"
Having a purpose to her inquiry, she watched the girl carefully and did not miss the flush that stained her throat and crept up her face.
Lady Alana, not privy to the scheme that Sir Gordon and Rothburn's mother had dreamt up, tried to divert the conversation in order to spare Allie any undue embarrassment. She failed however as Lady Susan quelled her with a wave of her hand and winked at her in an aside that truly astonished Lady Alana, so that she fell silent.
"I don't quite know, Madam. You see, I have been out of society much lately." Allie, confused and not a little mortified, was certain Lady Susan knew all about her adventure on the veranda of the Beasley mansion and she became suddenly tongue-tied. "I suppose just the usual occurrences."
"Ah, I see." The Countess of Rothburn gave a look that could only be construed as crafty. She then leaned close to the girl and whispered, "You know, I heard a very interesting story today at Lady Beasely's soirée."
When Allie stiffened and tried to draw away, the Countess stayed her with a gentle hand upon her arm and spoke in a whisper still. "It seems that young whelp of hers has gone and broken his arm. Fell off the balcony during a card party while accosting an innocent young lady. When she resisted, he got pushed by some unknown person and fell over the balustrade."
Her eyes gleaming with delight, the Countess then went for the kill. "Found himself at the feet of your brother over there," she nodded at Sir Gordon, who stood grinning at her, "and when he went to help the fool up, he refused aid, got tangled up in the gooseberry bush and flopped onto his broken arm, crushing it even more. A complete imbecile, if you ask me."
Satisfied that Allie would not run away, Lady Susan then sat back, and hands lifted in one of her most dramatic gestures, flailed them about as she continued to unfold the events with some relish.
"The Countess of Avonleigh and her daughter accompanied me and they agreed that it was most timely that the young lady had a champion to aid her in her distress. No one is certain, however, just who the girl is.
A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) Page 15
