A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series)

by Diane Davis White

  All was a flurry of activity after that as the guests were bundled into their outdoor wraps and the carriage was brought round. Goodbyes were hastily spoken and Rothburn prepared to take his mother off to her bed.

  Griffin, walking on one side of Sir Gordon while Allie walked on the other, was subdued and offered the older man a handshake that was firm with purpose. "Good night, Sir, and thank you for your help."

  He smiled at Allie, "Goodnight. I shall call tomorrow before I return to Cambridge." He looked at her brother. "With your permission, Sir."

  "You have it. Be here for luncheon." Sir Gordon drew Allie back when she would have moved closer to Griffin and the young man had no choice but to follow his cousin into the vehicle.

  The Knight stood in a companionable silence with his aunt and sister, waving goodbye to the earl and his lady mother and the earl's cousin. They then repaired to the drawing room for a nightcap before bed.

  The trio had had quite a day, all the way around.

  Sir Gordon had gained Lady Eleanor's consent, and that of her father, for their nuptials. Allie had regained her lost love and was mulling over ideas for her trousseau, as was Lady Alana, soon-to-be Countess of Rothburn.

  The two ladies sat close as they discussed the events of the day. "Did you know, Allie, that Rothburn has offered for me?"

  There was little joy in her tone.

  The girl clapped her hands lightly, voice a trill of romantic delight. "I just knew it! How wonderful dearest Auntie."

  She leaned over and kissed Alana's cheek, her eyes sparkling. "He is handsome and you so beautiful. I cannot wait to see you walk up the aisle. Will I be a bridesmaid? Shall we go to my rooms and look at the fashion books? We must select your gown."

  Allie rambled on, not noticing the pallor of her relative's complexion.

  "He has not spoken to my mother yet." Alana paled even more.

  "Oh, but it is your father who must approve, surely." Allie was being obtuse, for she knew well her grandmother's dominance over The Earl of Champlay. "All will be well. How could anyone resist such an alliance?"

  Sir Gordon spoke up at that moment, his eyes on Alana with grave concern. "You are old enough to make this choice without your mother's consent, should it come to that."

  "Yes, but should it come to that Gordon, there will be much gossip attending my marriage, for my mother will stop at nothing to hurt me, should I thwart her." Her face clouding, she added, "I would at least like to be wed to Rothburn in public, with all the attending pomp."

  Rising, Sir Gordon looked down at the two ladies and spoke with conviction. "And you shall, Alana—if I have to intervene. I'll have the old lady cut off from the family funds if she does not see fit to comply."

  "You would do that?" Alana and Allie spoke together.

  "Indubitably. She has run this family long enough with her crass interference. I will make it known to her. And if I get the short shrift from the ton for doing so, I shall not care one whit."

  Lady Alana stood and hugged her nephew, eyes misting at his show of support. "Gordon, you are a dear, but I would not have you embroiled in such a scandal as that would cause. Yet I do thank you for thinking of it."

  "As it happens, Lady Eleanor and I have discussed this matter in some depth. Actually, it was her idea that I might use the trust fund as leverage to gain Grand-mamma's compliance. Your soon-to-be niece is a very intelligent and resourceful lady. She has also suggested that we make our announcements before your mother has wind of the situation. That would take some of the bite out of her, for sure."

  "Yes, I believe she may be right in that. Mother would not incur the wrath of the ton by engaging in a tantrum if everything were already set."

  Alana brightened at the thought, but looked serious again at once. "Do not put this into effect, however, until we are sure there is no other course available. I would not have my father suffer more than necessary and she is sure to use him as her whipping boy. She has always done so."

  "I must get a missive off to Lord Champlay tonight." Sir Gordon repaired to the study and wrote a quick note. Calling for a messenger, he sent the poor fellow off into the cold night.

  "Get there quickly, Hobbs, for this is a very important missive. Wait for an answer and bring it straight to me." He handed Hobbs some coins, saying, "For your extra trouble, man. God speed."

  The missive was addressed to his step-grandfather, and he only hoped the old lady would not get it first. He would not put it past his meddling grandmamma to intercept her husband's mail.

  * * * * *

  Hobbs retuned late the next afternoon and delivered the answering missive to Sir Gordon. Gordon opened the note and saw with relief that it came from Lord Champlay. It read:

  'Good news. She don't know. Have Rothburn attend me at London house Thursday. Glad to say yes. Give daughter my love. Regards, Champlay.'

  Sir Gordon looked at the hastily written note, obviously done with a furtive hand, and was torn in his emotions. On the one hand he was very glad his grandmother had not gotten wind of anything yet. On the other hand he could not be happy that they were coming to London.

  He sent a footman to get his aunt, "Tell her it is important to attend me in the study right away."

  He paced the floor until Lady Alana entered the room and Sir Gordon gave her the note. She read it, then looked at him with a question in her eyes, saying nothing.

  "Are you not pleased?" Sir Gordon saw an obdurate set to her mouth he could not like. "Your father condones the match."

  When she failed to respond, he continued on a more hesitant note, "Of course, there is your mother yet to be convinced."

  "Yes, and well I know what she will say. I cannot like this at all. My poor father will be in shreds when she has done with him. Perhaps we should have eloped, after all."

  Her shoulders drooped at the idea of being wed among strangers. Also, she was sad to think of not going up the isle on her father's arm.

  "Elope? Did Rothburn suggest that?" He raised his eyebrows, for the fellow had not seemed to warm to the idea when Gordon had suggested it.

  "Not exactly." She accused Sir Gordon with her eyes. "I overheard you telling him."

  "Eavesdropping, Alana? That is not good of you. Thought we only had Allie to worry about in that quarter." He grinned at her to lighten the mood and she returned his look with a feeble smile.

  "By the by, dearest Aunt. How could you have heard us? We were clear to the other side of the room." He fixed her with a quizzing gaze and waited. "Hmmm?"

  She flushed and looked away, her smile turning into a grin, saying, "I went round to your peep hole in the wall. The one you used to spy on Griffin and Allie."

  He flushed bright red. "Didn't know you were aware of that particular device. Have you been following me about the house?"

  "Of course. How else can I know all your secrets, Nephew?" She patted his shoulder as she went past him to the settee. "Come, let us have some tea and talk about what must be done now."

  The mood lightened considerably. Sir Gordon wanted no hitches in strategy, for he could not press his suit publicly with Lady Eleanor until Rothburn and Alana settled their plans.

  When the evening papers were brought to him a moment later, he was astonished and pleased to see an announcement there. He read aloud, "A certain Lady E and a certain Lord R are no longer planning to wed. And a certain Sir G has entered the picture to steal her affections."

  "Must be her father's doing. Told me he would see to it. Now all that's needed is getting you and Rothburn wed and all will be well."

  He looked sympathetically at his aunt, for she yet displayed a definite uncertainty in that regard. "We'll get it all sorted out. Not to worry."

  He then excused himself, saying, "I must get the news to Rothburn so he will be ready to meet your father on Thursday."

  He consulted his fob watch. "He should be up and about by now. The fellow has not kept late hours in some time. Getting rather domesticated since you came into
the picture."

  Winking at her, he strode away with a quick step.

  She quipped lightly as he went out the door, "You should hope he is up by now, for it is near dinnertime. If he is not, I shall want a full report of his activities."

  Chapter Seventeen

  ~~

  Rothburn presented himself at the London residence of The Earl of Champlay at precisely eleven o'clock in the morning on Thursday. Shown into the formal drawing room, he cooled his heels for all of twenty minutes before he was joined by Lord Champlay. The older man appeared to be a rather mild fellow who had the harried look of a man beset by a very domineering wife—which was exactly the case.

  "Rothburn, sorry to have kept you. I'm afraid my wife cannot join us, but it is better this way, for we must discuss your proposal. Can't say she'll be agreeable."

  He stared at the younger man from watery, pale blue eyes and smiled timidly. "Would you like a glass of Port?"

  "Yes, thank you." Rothburn was feeling rather pinched about the collar and hoping to get this interview over and be about the business of planning his nuptials.

  The two of them sat near the windows open to the back garden. Rothburn cleared his throat and began. "Lord Champlay, has Sir Gordon appraised you of the reason for my visit?"

  "Yes, Gordon mentioned that you wish to wed Alana. Is that the case then?" At Rothburn's solemn nod, he went on in a hushed voice, leaning forward so the younger man could hear him, his manner confidential. "My wife objects to this and I do not. Love my daughter, you see. Can't say the same for the wife, though. Turned into a harridan these last years."

  Realizing he rambled, Champlay coughed into his hand and went on. "I tried to keep this from her, but she has her ways and before I knew it, she was screaming the house down, wanting your head on a platter." He grimaced at the memory, then went on, "Seems she and your mother are not friends. But guess you know that."

  Champlay leaned closer to whisper, "Actually, what I would like, is if you and my daughter simply eloped."

  "What?" Rothburn raised his eyebrows at the man, hardly believing his ears. "You cannot mean this. Your daughter elope? With me? We'd be the laughing stock of the ton."

  "Not so, old fellow. If you go to the country estate of my friend and have a special license, you can be wed among most of the family. I will have Sir Gordon give the girl away. The heir is expecting his first, and the daughter-in-law is... having difficulties, if you will.

  "In truth, I am too cowardly, I fear, to play an active role. "Lady Grace can make a man's life quite difficult at times. Wouldn't want to see me hanged, would you?" His eyes twinkled suddenly, reminding Rothburn of Alana.

  "No, of course not. But wouldn't it be better to simply stand up to her? Surely she can't be that bad."

  Just as he spoke, the lady in question entered the room, her face a thunder cloud as she crossed purposefully toward them.

  Rothburn closed his mouth quickly and gave the older man a sympathetic look, nodding his head in understanding.

  "Champlay, why did you not tell me we had a guest?" Her voice was throaty and there was a hint of the beauty she had once been, but her face had given way over time to the petulance and tantrums she had indulged and was now showing a marked aging process.

  "I would that you introduce me." She knew Rothburn on site, for she looked through him, not at him, the thin line of her mouth bespeaking her distaste.

  Rising, Champlay regarded his wife with consternation and worked his mouth, though no words would come. Finally he managed an introduction. "M'dear, this is Lord Rothburn, come to see us about Alana." He turned to the man in question, and threw out a jerky hand toward his wife, "Rothburn, may I present Lady Grace, my wife."

  "Your servant." Rothburn bowed formally, giving the woman his best smile, though it cost him an effort, for he wanted to give her the cut direct as she had done his mother many years before.

  "Rubbish!" Lady Grace looked down her long, thin nose at the Lord Rothburn then turned a menacing glance on her husband. "You allowed this man in here after I told you we would not receive him?"

  "M'dear, he has come in good faith—"

  "Hold your tongue, Sir." She cut her eyes to Rothburn and he nearly stepped back, so full of malevolence was her look. "Your mother should have warned you, Rothburn, that we do not have an attachment that would deem you suitable for my daughter. I will not countenance this match and you might as well know it now. Good day to you, Sir."

  She turned on her heel and started across the room, her back rigid with purpose. She came to a halt when Rothburn spoke, his voice steel.

  "Lady Grace, it would behoove you to hear me out. I suggest you come listen to what I have to say, or I vow, you will regret it."

  His face had taken on a look that startled with its ferocity. He stepped toward her and put out a hand, as though to draw her physically.

  Lady Grace turned around slowly and glared down her patrician nose once more, but the look fell short of the mark, as Rothburn was clearly not impressed with her pose of grandeur.

  "Say what you must, Rothburn and be quick. I will not change my mind, I assure you." She tossed her head in a girlish fashion that looked grotesque coming from her. She continued to stand apart. "Well?"

  Rothburn pulled together his most formidable, arrogant self and drew a deep breath, fixing the old woman with a gaze that would freeze fire. "I fully intend to wed your daughter and you will be happy, Madam, to condone the match, for if you do not—"

  He paused dramatically, taking such a theatrical stance his mother would have applauded his performance. Finally, he said, "If you do not—your grandson has informed me that you will be out of funds."

  Lady Grace hadn't known what he would say, but had not expected this. It threw her into a dither and she was badly shaken, and moved to sit in the nearest chair, her face gone pale. Her grandson held all the purse strings, even her trust from her first husband.

  Champlay did not have funds of his own, and they had lived entirely at the whim of first her son, and now her grandson, for many years. She pulled herself together with an effort and looked at Rothburn. "He would never do such a thing. You lie."

  "He would indeed, Madam. I have here a letter he has asked me to give you, should you prove obdurate in the matter, as you have, to be sure." He stepped forward and whipped the missive from his breast pocket and tossed it onto her lap, his own lip curling.

  Picking up the envelope with shaking hands, she glanced at it then tore open the flap, her eyes scanning the page rapidly. Mouth dropping open, horror filled her eyes. She then looked at her husband with a sneer and spoke as though to a miscreant underling. "Had you not allowed your mother to give over her fortune to the girl—"

  "I had no say in it—you know that." Lord Champlay had gained the courage to speak with a small amount of authority, aided by Rothburn's presence.

  The younger man instilled some hope in him that at last his formidable wife had met her match. He looked at Rothburn ruefully, clearing his throat. "My mother had funds, of course, but she thought me too addle-pated to handle them and she did not approve of my wife."

  He glanced nervously at the Countess, then back at Rothburn. "She gave her funds over to our daughter, with a trust for the heir."

  "Enough! Our personal business is not for others to know." Lady Grace shifted her glance to the younger man and looked once more very cunning and sly. "I shall speak with Gordon today. I am sure that he is bluffing and if he is not, I shall put it about very quickly that he has impoverished me. I may say some other things as well. You will find me a nasty adversary, I vow."

  Rothburn filled his voice with soft menace, holding her gaze with a degree of threat. "I believe you, Madam. But you will find that I do not easily back away. If you persist in maligning your daughter or my good friend, I shall see you driven from this country. Do not doubt it."

  He turned his back on her completely and bowed respectfully to the older man. "If you should ever find yourself
, in need of a home, your daughter and I would welcome you, My Lord. Bear it in mind."

  He quit the room without a backward glance and, as he went through the door, could hear Lady Grace shouting at her hapless husband.

  Feeling quite sorry for the fellow, he vowed to make good his promise, should the earl ever arrive on his doorstep looking for a haven.

  * * * * *

  Lady Alana stood at the drawing room windows, watching for Rothburn. When his coach rounded the corner her heart tripped in her breast and she grew faint, knowing he came from her parent's. She could not like what she surmised had happened there. Seating herself, Alana willed a calm façade. She waited, hearing his voice as he entered the house and the murmured response of the servant.

  When the double doors opened grandly, Rothburn was announced by Marsh with a flourish, and she raised her eyes to the peer as he crossed the room. She saw nothing in his face to indicate trouble. Marsh closed the doors, leaving the couple alone, his old face wreathed in a smile.

  Rothburn came to her and taking her hands, lifted her to her feet, drawing her immediately into a heated embrace, his mouth seeking hers with urgency. She kissed him back with equal fervor, and he deepened the kiss, redoubling his effort to hold her as close as possible. Eventually he ended the embrace, resting his forehead upon hers, whispering, "My Love, how I have missed you."

  "And I you, Love. What news then, do you bring me?" Alana asked, her voice apprehensive.

  Choosing his words carefully, Rothburn attempted to avoid hurting her more than necessary. "You mother acted as expected."

  She stiffened and he went on quickly, "But your father has a plan." He drew back and led her to the settee, and settling her there, he began to pace, as was his wont when agitated.

  "Father has a plan? Whatever can you mean? Pray tell me quickly." Lady Alana—astounded her father would have the courage to aid them, and a plan as well—knew mounting agitation as Rothburn remained silent. Her voice took on a sharp edge. "Do stop pacing and tell me of this plan."