A Date with Dishonor

by Mary Brendan

  ‘Why interfere?’ she echoed in a stifled tone. ‘My sister has no dowry, but is determined to find a husband to provide her with a new life in London. Your friend is after a wife with money because he has none. You know all of this following the fiasco that occurred at Vauxhall.’ Elise tore her eyes from his subtle amusement, heating as she remembered what he’d done to her that night...and her response to his lust. She lowered her face to hiss, ‘Pray, tell me how they will suit?’

  ‘It is not my place...or yours...to act the controlling guardian. As far as I know they are both aware of the other’s financial situation and must make up their own minds about one another.’

  Elise felt a bubbling anger. Mrs Chapman had told them at breakfast that very morning that Viscount Blackthorne was renowned as one of the wealthiest gentlemen in the country. What did he know of being restricted and humiliated for want of money? This trip to town to socialise was possibly Beatrice’s last chance to realise her dream of having a husband and family. If the rich viscount had a sister, no doubt the lucky young lady would be afforded numerous new gowns and new opportunities to meet her mate. Beatrice had one week and two dresses before her time and her credibility ran out.

  ‘My sister has been disappointed before and I would not like to see her hurt again,’ Elise uttered coolly. ‘Neither would I like to see her waste precious time on a fellow who cannot come up to scratch however nice he might be.’ Elise bobbed her head and made to pass him.

  ‘Don’t run away, I have more to say.’

  Elise pivoted about. A casually encompassing glance confirmed her fears that they were under observation. She pinned a smile to her lips and again stepped closer to him so they might not be overheard. ‘Please do not order me about as though I were one of your lackeys. And please do not think I am running away. I am not frightened of you just because we met under...odd circumstances.’

  Alex laughed, chillingly in Elise’s opinion, but she continued holding his eyes squarely, her full rosy lips pleasantly curved. She prayed that their audience believed they were enjoying some light banter, nothing more to it.

  ‘We met under highly improper circumstances, Miss Dewey, and I imagine you would not want further scandal attaching to your family name.’

  Elise blenched, moistened her lips. So he knew about her parents’ mésalliance, and her father’s disgrace, and was vile enough to raise the subject with her in a society ballroom. ‘Are you threatening me, sir?’ she whispered.

  ‘I’m stating the obvious,’ he drawled, nodding curtly to an acquaintance to deter the fellow’s approach.

  ‘Nothing is obvious about that most regrettable incident at Vauxhall unless you make it so, sir,’ Elise replied tightly. ‘As far as I am concerned it is already forgotten, never again to be mentioned, and a gentleman would concur with that.’

  ‘I don’t take kindly to being ordered about either,’ he echoed her reprimand. ‘So don’t tell me how to behave.’

  ‘If you conduct yourself in a way appropriate to your breeding and position, I will not need to do so.’

  Elise knew she would be defeated in this verbal duel and her confidence and composure were also withering beneath his dark sardonic stare. Etiquette could not be ignored and before their antagonism became clear to those keenly watching them she must withdraw. Had they been alone...in the dark in bushes as had been the case at Vauxhall...she would have told him exactly what she thought of him. But here, under the unforgiving glare of a thousand candles and sharp eyes, she was constrained to respond in a ladylike manner. With gritted teeth and lowered lashes she curtsied, more deeply this time, hoping he understood the insolence in it.

  Her defiance drew a mirthless chuckle from Alex. ‘I’ll call on the Chapmans later in the week and we can finish our conversation,’ he murmured silkily. ‘I promise it is to your advantage to receive me. Perhaps you and your sister would come for a drive in the park with Hugh and me.’

  Elise said nothing and moved past, her heart pounding as though she were running rather than walking away from him, her moist palms clenched into fists at her sides.

  * * *

  ‘It is very bad of the viscount to disappear so soon after arriving.’

  ‘At least he did arrive, my dear. I’ve heard he rarely attends these débutante balls.’ Anthony Chapman handed his spouse a glass of lemonade and set about another flute of champagne with gusto, as though it were the first of the evening instead of the tenth.

  Maude sipped the cool brew and continued looking around. She had hoped that Elise might tempt the ton’s most eligible bachelor to partner her in a dance. But there had been no sign of Alex for some while. ‘Perhaps he has gone into an ante-room to play cards. You know how gentlemen occupy their time if they’ve no wish to jig about.’

  Mr Chapman did indeed know about that as he’d only recently thrown in his hand in Mr Clemence’s library, having lost a guinea to their host in less than fifteen minutes. But there had been no sign of the viscount around the faro table. Anthony knew that the fellow had gone as he’d seen him on his way down the stairs.

  ‘I suppose he might have escorted a lucky lady to the balcony to take the air,’ Maude mused, not to be dissuaded from her belief Alex Blackthorne would reappear. She’d had high hopes of that distinguished fellow pursuing Elise and stirring up a frenzy of interest, which in turn would guarantee the girls were showered tomorrow in more social invitations. But if the viscount were promenading outside, it wasn’t with Elise. Maude could see all four of her charges dancing the quadrille partnered by young officers in red coats. Hugh had ceased charming Beatrice for long enough to allow her to accept an invitation to dance from another fellow. Maude was glad he had, for propriety’s sake.

  ‘Oh...I had hoped the viscount would dance with one of our girls!’ Maude came close to stamping a foot in annoyance.

  ‘I expect the fellow has gone off to female company more to his taste,’ her husband soothed with an accompanying dirty chuckle. Anthony cleared his throat and stuck a finger between his hot neck and his cravat. He was still sober enough to realise he’d had rather too much alcohol to have spoken in such a vulgar manner to his wife.

  ‘More to his taste?’ Maude sounded affronted rather than outraged. ‘He won’t find prettier... Oh...you mean that sulky-looking brunette might have the viscount wound about her crooked finger.’ Maude knew, as did most people, about the viscount’s popularity with demi-reps. It made no difference to her—or any sensible mother with daughters to settle—how many mistresses prospective beaux kept prior to their marriages. ‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Maude grudgingly agreed. ‘Celia Chase is quite comely, I suppose, in a common fashion, and might have lured the viscount away. How tiresome that he’s more interested in his mistress than a roomful of débutantes.’

  ‘Would either of you young ladies like a drink of lemonade? I’m happy to fetch it,’ Anthony babbled, having just noticed that the Dewey sisters had rejoined them. He hoped that the young ladies had not overheard the unseemly exchange between him and his wife. The older girl seemed more interested in locating somebody in the throng, but Elise’s forced smile dismayed Anthony as she declined his offer of refreshment.

  * * *

  ‘Jago Clemence seems a nice young fellow.’ Elise nodded in the direction of their hosts’ son. ‘I’m sure he would have asked you to partner him again if you’d not immediately disappeared into the supper room with Verity.’

  Beatrice bit her lip, looking anxious. ‘I hope Hugh won’t think I encouraged him for I did no such thing. I only accepted him to be polite.’

  Elise sighed. ‘Why not encourage him? Jago is a charming fellow and his family seem nice. I thought you wanted to meet eligible bachelors and get one to propose.’

  ‘I’ve met one I like very well,’ Beatrice breathed, eyes glowing.

  ‘He is in no position to propose,’ Elise m
uttered wearily. ‘As you well know.’

  ‘How do you know that Jago is in a better position?’ Beatrice mumbled moodily.

  ‘Look around you.’ Elise darted admiring glances at their sumptuous environment. ‘If that is not enough to persuade you he has a wealthy family and sufficient prospects, his sister told me that he has bought a country manor with his grandfather’s bequest. Caro hinted he’s buying his own property because he is on the lookout for a wife.’

  Bea shrugged, turning her head to and fro as though she’d given little heed to her sister’s homily. The ball was coming to an end and the crowd had thinned out considerably. The orchestra were packing away their instruments. ‘Oh...where is he? Do you think he’s gone without even saying goodbye, as the viscount did?’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, Bea!’ Elise snapped. ‘Don’t make your pining quite so obvious. You’ll have every tabby in town knowing you’re besotted with a certain gentleman. Do you want to end up a laughing stock when nothing comes of it?’

  ‘Miss Elise, Beatrice...’ Hugh had materialised beside them, bowing gallantly. ‘Would you like to promenade on the balcony and take some air before departing?’

  Elise feared her sister might swoon with relief at the sight of him. It was obvious Bea wanted to have Hugh to herself, so with a sigh Elise let her have her way. ‘I’ll go and say goodbye to Aunt Dolly and Mrs Vickers. I expect Mr Chapman will want to leave very shortly, Bea, in case all the hackneys are taken.’

  * * *

  ‘Well, what a wonderful evening.’ Mrs Chapman sighed, settling back in the squabs of the cab conveying them home from the Clemences’ ball. Mr Chapman had gone on ahead with Fiona and Bea. Maude had elected to accompany Elise and Verity to Marylebone in the hope of discovering what had occurred between the viscount and Elise when he had singled her out for a chat.

  ‘It was a shame Alex Blackthorne left so early.’ Maude squinted through the dusk to read Elise’s expression. She was disappointed when the young woman gave her usual amiable smile. She tried again. ‘The viscount is not usually persuaded to attend such functions. I think he came along to see you, my dear. He certainly didn’t seem interested in talking to any other young lady.’ She sniffed. ‘I couldn’t engage him in a conversation although he did talk to Mr Chapman for some minutes.’

  ‘He was no great loss to the party in that case,’ Elise said lightly. ‘We all had a fine time without him, didn’t we?’

  ‘Oh...a fine time indeed.’ Maude frowned. It wasn’t quite the reaction she’d hoped for. Most spinsters with a modest country début some years behind them would have been elated to have the undivided attention of such a rich and influential man. ‘So...did Viscount Blackthorne ask after your family...your papa?’

  Elise gazed into the night, wondering if Maude was worried the noble fellow might lose interest on discovering her family’s name was sullied. In fact, it had seemed to her the opposite were true. From what Alex Blackthorne had said, Elise suspected he desired seeing her again because of the scandal in her background.

  Their prickly exchange had been playing over and over in her mind during the evening although she’d refused to allow it to spoil her enjoyment. He’d demanded she didn’t run off because he’d more to say to her and the thought wouldn’t quit tormenting her that he’d been on the point of probing into things she’d no wish to discuss. Yet she must be nice to him because she knew he had the power to ruin not just her future, but Bea’s, too. What she didn’t know was whether he’d be mean enough to use her folly against her. He hadn’t liked her lecturing him on how to behave and...she inwardly sighed...it had been impertinent of her. She wished she hadn’t provoked him. The last thing she wanted was a tiger by the tail, for this particular one could quite easily turn and maul her.

  ‘Did the viscount speak of his relatives?’ Maude tried a different tack.

  ‘No...but we did briefly mention my family,’ Elise informed, aware that Mrs Chapman was peering at her, awaiting an answer. ‘Oh...and the viscount also said he would call on us in the week. He might have been jesting, though.’

  Elise received a nudge from Verity sitting beside her; it was her friend’s way of congratulating her remarkable achievement. Mrs Chapman was momentarily stunned into speechlessness, but her wide beaming smile was replete with gratitude.

  Elise stared again through the window, wishing she could shake off a prickle of foreboding that the Chapmans might eventually view the viscount’s patronage as a curse, not a boon.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘Lily...you are a good girl.’

  ‘Am I, sir? I try to be.’

  ‘Sometimes I think I should marry you.’

  Lily Watson ceased fluffing up her fiery curls in front of the spotted glass. She turned on the rickety stool to look askance at the fellow reclining naked on the bed, his fleshy top lip hiked in a libidinous smile. She’d sooner marry her pimp Johnny and he was no good. But at least Mr Whittiker seemed to have money to flash around at last. He’d been one of her clients for many months and had always haggled with Johnny over her price. The sight of him huffing up the stairs to her dingy room had previously dispirited her.

  But he seemed to be more generous lately and thus her service was less grudging. This evening he’d presented her with a little brooch. Lily knew it was trumpery, worth only pennies, but she was cute enough to coo over it and hint at how much she’d like another gift. In the mirror’s reflection she saw that James had scooped up the brandy bottle from the dirty floorboards and, in between watching her lacing the ribbons on her chemise, was swigging from it. Her eyes flitted over his stumpy torso. Although he’d only rolled off her fifteen minutes ago he appeared nearly ready to try again. He was a fellow who liked his money’s worth and Lily wasn’t expecting Johnny to come back with another punter for about half an hour.

  She swivelled her posterior on the stool and made a show of fixing her garters, peeking provocatively at James from beneath her lashes. When he’d hurriedly pulled off his clothes earlier she’d seen his plump purse discarded on the chair atop his breeches. She wouldn’t mind a dip in it before he got bundled out. If she could distract him, she was sure she could slip some coins out of sight. All she must do was help him sink further into his cups so when he noticed the loss tomorrow he wouldn’t remember where he’d been this evening. As Johnny wouldn’t know she’d been light-fingered, he couldn’t help himself to a cut of the takings. She got to her feet and gave James’s flagging erection a saucy smile.

  James elbowed himself off the bed and staggered to give Lily’s rump a playful slap. ‘You’re a minx to make me fall for you,’ he slurred, breathing hot alcoholic fumes against her cheek. ‘I swear if you were just a tiny bit decent I’d forget the vinegar-faced misses and take you down the aisle instead.’ Despite his inebriation James realised he’d spoken truthfully. He felt piqued at not getting an invitation to the Clemences’ ball and was sick of all the people who thought they were better than him. He and Jago Clemence had been friends...until he’d taken a loan from the fellow and failed to deliver on a repayment. But he’d sooner be here with a good-natured whore, he told himself, than prancing about with some silly chit who’d have a fit of the vapours if he so much as tried to kiss her.

  * * *

  Maude listened intently to her housemaid’s whisperings, then, as a wondrous smile spread across her face, she pivoted about to quietly clap her hands, drawing the attention of the four young ladies seated in the drawing room. Fiona had been sketching with charcoal; Verity, Elise and Bea had been taking it in turns to rifle through a journal and give and seek opinions on the fashion plates. They had been cooped up inside all day, watching grey clouds scudding over ivory sky, hoping the drizzle might blow over so they could take a walk and stretch their legs.

  ‘Viscount Blackthorne and Mr Kendrick have come to pay a call just as Elise said they might,’ Maude
excitedly squeaked to her audience.

  Having been shooed away, Winnie, the young servant, hurtled back out into the hallway to tell the gentlemen they were to be received. Maude’s bosom swelled high under her chin in pride as she gazed reverentially at the embossed parchment in her grip bearing the name and crest of the Blackthorne dynasty. She had impressed on the girls they should dress with care every morning for just this eventuality. As the days had passed with no sign of the illustrious fellow’s calling card, Maude’s hopes had flagged. She glanced about, pleased Winnie had remembered her instruction. The best china and silverware were set out for tea and she was determined to ensure that their guests stayed long enough to take refreshment. She would be the envy of every hostess in town...

  On hearing the exhilarating news, Beatrice had jumped to her feet, but had been pulled back to sit on the sofa by her sister.

  Elise’s countenance was grave. Once Beatrice had found out they might receive a call from Hugh and Alex following the Clemences’ ball, her sister’s expectation had rivalled Mrs Chapman’s, her pleasure transforming to moroseness as days wore on with no sign of them. They had socialised with their friends every evening, but neither gentleman had appeared at those soirées.

  ‘What will you do if Hugh asks you to marry him?’ Elise whispered, frowning and trying to quell her own butterflies at the realisation that Alex Blackthorne was close by and they had parted on bad terms only days ago.

  ‘I shall tell him yes, then say he must speak to Papa,’ Bea burbled joyfully.

  ‘But you know he has no means to make you his wife.’

  ‘Well...he won’t propose then, will he?’ Beatrice was again on her feet.

  Elise’s small teeth nipped at her lower lip; she desperately hoped that Hugh Kendrick would also take that logical view, but people falling in love could act irrationally and cause great hurt to those they professed to care about. She only had to recall her own mother’s behaviour to know that. Arabella Dewey had promised her daughters they were the most precious people in the world to her...yet it had not prevented her abandoning them to go off with her lover.