These noble considerations, Ned convinced himself, had been inspired by Little Ned's christening. Through foolish jealousy, he let himself get off to the wrong foot with Lady Christina, but for Little Ned's sake it was time they put away their swords. She had not intended to trap him into this evening, but her teasing had resulted in a misfire. If Ned were not careful it could result in the ruin of her marriage hopes and a rupture with his friend Robert and all that friendship meant.
Consequently, he was determined to put Robert's certain fears to rest by pointedly ignoring Christina all evening. It should put the budding gossip to rest if he spent the whole of the night in the cardroom with the gents.
He was more than a little puzzled, therefore, to find Robert so full of bonhomie. It was not at all what Ned had been led to expect.
Louisa's relatively sober manner caused him an equal degree of unease. The only thought he could reconcile with such an unnatural reversal of roles was that both had decided that no interference from them would be either necessary in one case or beneficial to their ends in the other.
Meaning that Christina had showed no inclination to fall for his charms.
This startling fact was borne out by Christina's cool greeting. A dismissive inclination of her silk-topped head told Ned she had not forgiven him for making her feel the little innocent she was. And, also, that she had not regarded that moment when their eyes had struck sparks as anything to remark.
Well, that was fine, Ned thought, trying to ignore the wound to his pride, as they rode to Almack's, with Robert's hearty chatter the only noise to fill the air.
Christina looked particularly fresh and innocent this evening. The requisite white gown with a simple strand of pearls on her creamy breast enhanced the image of naiveté evoked by her idyllic English fairness. This childlike appeal should have struck Ned as insipid; however, he knew that a fertile, mischievous mind lurked beneath those schoolgirl features. This gave her all the mystery of a slow moving river with a treacherous current. One could not stand on the bank without wondering how dangerous it would be to plunge in.
They arrived just as the assembly rooms were filling at the top of the long flight of stairs. Ned made certain to lag behind the ladies, using Robert as a shield. With luck, so long as he kept his distance from them, no one would think to associate his arrival with Christina's.
This hope was quickly laid to rest by the murmured talk which followed them up the stairs. His appearance at Almack's after so many years had set the quizzes immediately to whispering. Even Willis, at the bottom of the steps, had taken pains to double-check Ned's voucher to make certain there was no mistake.
Feeling like a pariah, in a way he had not allowed himself to feel in ages, Ned squared his shoulders and glanced about him with distaste. In spite of the exclusivity of this gathering, there were not above five people in the rooms he would care to call his friends, always excepting Robert and Louisa, of course. For the rest, they were a bunch of prigs. Of course, Robert was something of a prig, too, but Ned made an exception for him.
He was about to bow himself out of the scene to go in search of a game of cards—if he could remember the way to the cardroom—when the sight of a certain face moving towards them made him change his mind. Baron Levington, with his sleek brown hair pomaded and curled, hailed their party.
“Your servant, your Grace.” He bowed formally to Robert, who took one look at this impertinence and raised his brows.
Stepping into the breach, Louisa smiled at the baron and extended her hand. “Robert, I forgot to mention Lord Levington's call on us yesterday. It appears that he and Louisa became acquainted in the park."
Robert quickly rounded on Ned, his bonhomie completely erased. “You presented them?” he asked with reproach.
Ned nodded, a stiffness forming in his neck. “I called yesterday in the afternoon to speak to you about that, Robert, but you were not at home."
Robert's scowl told Ned exactly what he thought of his efforts. But, before either man could intervene, Lord Levington had already solicited Christina's hand for two of the dances and had been graciously accepted, with Louisa, Christina's supposed duena looking happily on.
“You will have to pardon us, Levington.” Robert broke in upon their conversation, taking his sister firmly by the arm. “But I promised Lord Buffington I would present him as soon as we arrived."
As they disappeared through the crowd of silk-clad ladies and waistcoated gents, Ned gave a secret snort. Buffington was exactly the sort of bore he would expect Robert to fancy for a brother-in-law. But he was no match for Christina's wits or for her charm. The thought of such a waste annoyed him. Robert should be looking for a higher match for Christina than a young buffer like Buffington.
Ned became aware that Levington had been watching him with a self-satisfied expression. He couldn't fathom what had given the scoundrel so much pleasure.
“Dangling after the duke's sister, are you?” Levington asked without a hint of worry.
Ned tossed him a scathing glance to show his opinion of such a ridiculous question. “My interest in Lady Christina is purely avuncular. If you have any thoughts in that direction yourself, however, I'd advise you to forget them. There is no possibility that Broughton would ever countenance the match."
“Why not? The lady is possessed of a clear fortune, as I understand. Why should she not follow the dictates of her heart?”
Ned did not like the gleam in Levington's eye as he dusted his sleeve with a small pinch of snuff and sniffed. “You might not be aware, Windermere, but the duchess does favor my suit. And it has not escaped my notice that his Grace is uncommonly swayed by his wife."
“Louisa?” Ned wanted to scoff. But glancing after her now, he saw her turn and give a friendly, departing wave to Levington.
“She's very grateful to me for saving her fair sister in the park the other day. Thought the whole episode sounded too romantic for words."
“Romantic? Hah!” Ned had to fight to hide his irritation. “You managed to take credit for that, did you?"
“The Lady Christina was all too willing to bestow it upon me, dear boy.”
This was said in such a sly, snide manner, Nick felt a rush of temper, before he calmed himself with the words he, himself, had uttered about Robert.
“Drop it, Levington. You'll be wasting your time, and as I understand it, time is something you no longer have."
At this reminder of his near bankruptcy, Levington's smile turned nasty. “If I decide I want your advice, I'll be certain to ask for it."
Ned shrugged his anger off. Making his bow, he would have left the subject behind and gone in search of the cardroom right then, but Levington called him back.
“I don't suppose you've remembered the challenge that Grisham made you that same day?” he asked.
Ned gave a mental wince. No, he had not remembered the challenge. Nor had he thought of sending his seconds, or even of appointing any to smooth the gentleman's ruffled feathers.
“He's been wondering if you are a coward,” Levington continued, “however, as his second I have assured him of your eagerness to meet any gentleman in an affair of honor. May I tell him the names of your friends?"
Blast! Ned had been sure his friend Carnes could talk Grisham out of a meeting, but after this second slight that would clearly be impossible. To offend a man was one thing. To fail to respond to his challenge was another matter entirely, one that could not be forgiven. Besides, if Ned failed to meet him now, Levington would spread it about town that Ned had lost his nerve.
I must be getting old, Ned thought, if a simple thing like a spoiled girl's impudence could make him forget he'd been challenged to a duel. For he had completely forgotten as he'd laid in his bed last night, thinking about Robert's minx of a sister and how he'd trespassed on her innocence. He'd been afraid he'd awakened a touch of the passion he'd sensed in himself when he'd tasted her finger.
And, now, just look where his concern had got him. Christ
ina was off dancing a Scottish reel without a worry in her head, and he would have to be pacing off steps at dawn.
“You can call upon Lord Haynes and Rupert Carnes. I am sure they'll act for me. If I don't have time to speak with them myself, you can tell them I'm prepared to go with any weapon they suggest.
“I'd prefer not to make this a killing event, however."
Levington bowed himself away with a smug grin, presumably to go in search of a partner, and Ned turned towards the cardroom with relief.
* * * *
Christina had been mortified by Ned's obvious indifference, after what had passed between them in the nursery. All evening his air had been that of the man she had met at the christening, the bored, jaded rake, obliged by his friendship with Robert to accompany a tiresome debutante to her first ton event.
She had promised Levington those dances, hoping to inspire a reaction from Ned, but, instead, Robert had been the one to take umbrage. He had lectured her under his breath on the impropriety of encouraging any man introduced to her by Ned.
In spite of Christina's pique, she could not help feeling the injustice of Robert's words. Ned had not contrived the meeting between herself and Levington. He had presented the baron only when good manners had forced him to do so, and as soon as they had parted, Ned had warned her of the gentleman's unsuitability.
Her anger at this precise moment, however, did prevent her from defending Ned aloud, before she was presented to Robert's friend, Lord Buffington.
Pale in coloring, and possessed of a self-satisfied air, Lord Buffington made her a dignified bow. His quite audible expulsion of air was occasioned by the encounter between his stomach and his legs. Christina politely freed her hand from his moist, lingering grasp only to note Robert's beaming countenance as he observed the dry success of their meeting. Sensing at once that this was the man her brother had chosen for her, she did her best not to blanch.
“My mother, who was the Lady Mary Lawrence before she married my father, the first earl, has long been acquainted with your family,” Buffington said. “She and your mother were bosom playmates as children, and she has always held that there is no one more versed in the polite tenets of society than the Dowager Duchess of Broughton."
“Indeed.” Christina found herself unable to think of a suitable rejoinder. Nor could she contradict his speech, since he had given an accurate description of her mother.
“Christina has just emerged from a ladies’ seminary in Bath, which my mother chose for her.” Robert made this pronouncement as if it should be cause for applause.
“So I have heard.” Buffington apparently thought it was, for he congratulated her on the accomplishments certain to have been derived from such excellent instruction. “Dare I hope to be permitted to witness one of your talents this evening? Perhaps in this next set when it forms?"
It took Christina a moment to realize that his arch query had been an invitation to dance. No doubt she had failed to acquire at her school a perfect understanding of the circuitous speeches which might be employed by a gentleman.
She saw that Robert was near to bursting a button on his waistcoat by the time she responded with a yes. She could do nothing else. Lord Buffington, for all his pomposity, meant to be an agreeable companion. It was not his fault that she found him such a bore.
Or, perhaps it was, she later thought, as he proceeded to talk about himself and nothing else during a lively Scottish Reel. Christina could only be glad that its frequent glides and circular patterns made conversation quite difficult.
It was during one of these rapid trips down the floor that she spied Ned leaving the assembly room without a passing glance at either her or her partner.
Christina felt the betrayal much more keenly than she wanted to admit. How dare he leave the room without so much as a country dance with either her or Louisa? And why should he be able to quit the dance when he wished, when she was bound and tied to it.
Ned was a rake; that was why. Rakes could do anything they pleased and everyone else had to accept their choices. But let a young lady flaunt the tiniest detail of a convention and she was deemed beyond salvation.
The anger these thoughts aroused must have flashed in her eyes, for after a glance at her face, Lord Buffington stumbled. Quickly, Christina pasted on her brightest smile, and the young gentleman recovered.
On their next turn, she spied Lord Levington awaiting their dance together. He inclined his head as she passed, the naked gleam in his eye leaving her in no doubt that it was she he had come to dance with this evening.
Christina fought the immediate temptation to give him a set down, and instead bestowed a sultry smile.
If Ned had no wish to dance with her, she would make other use of her time.
Chapter Five
Ned stayed in the cardroom, submerged in the game while trying his best to ignore the strains of music issuing from the adjoining salon. It was not until Robert appeared at his side, considerably vexed and asking to speak with him in private, that he allowed himself the luxury of looking up.
He excused himself from the table, and they stepped a few paces away into a quiet corner.
“What's wrong?” Ned asked. “You look as if you're about to be stricken by a fit of apoplexy. I suggest a few deep breaths."
“It's Levington.” Robert's face was as grim as his tone. “He just finished dancing two dances with Christina, and, if this evening's work ruins her, I shall have you to thank."
Ned tried to ignore the worry invading his chest. “You must be exaggerating,” he said. “What could Levington possibly do to ruin Christina on the floor of Almack's?"
“It's what he'd like to do that is all too obvious.” Robert raked trembling fingers through his thinning hair. “He makes no attempt to hide his strong attraction. I almost think he's trying to scare off any other suitors before they even have a chance to meet her. It's indecent how the fellow looks her over. And"—Robert's voice held a note of desperation—"as impossible as it sounds—especially when she could nab a superior fellow like Buffington with just a little push—Christina seems to be responding to Levington's overtures."
“He's seducing her on the dance floor?” Ned raised a brow. “He has more talent than I gave him credit for."
“It's all very well from where you are sitting,” Robert snapped. “Go ahead and laugh. But she is my sister, Ned, and people have already remarked her partiality for the scoundrel.
“I tell you, this will ruin her chances with Buffington if he hears the whispers that are circulating."
“Then Buffington is a fool, and he doesn't deserve her.” Ned shrugged with a nonchalance he could not feel. He was the one who had introduced Christina to Levington, albeit unintentionally, and he knew Levington could be dangerous. He supposed he would have to do something to discourage her from making a big mistake.
Maintaining his air of extreme detachment, he allowed Robert to lead him back to the assembly room, just in time to see the couples forming the next set.
It only took him a moment to locate Christina. Levington had her by the arm and was about to walk her out onto the floor.
Ned gave a start. He asked quickly, “How many times did you say those two have danced?"
“Twice,” Robert said, before he spied them making their way into position. “Oh, no!"
“Precisely.” This last was said through clenched teeth, as, leaving Robert behind, Ned made his way through the assembly. He intercepted the two miscreants in the middle of the floor before the music had a chance to start.
Christina glanced his way, and a guilty flush, mixed with a spark of some lighter emotion, touched her face.
“Kind of you to escort my partner onto the floor, Levington,” Ned said smoothly, following his statement with a bow and an arm quickly offered to Christina. “Shocking, is it not, how difficult these crushes make it for one to find one's next partner?"
Before Levington could utter a protest, Ned took a step his way and, in a silky voi
ce, said, “His Grace of Broughton expressly requested me to prevent this spectacle from occurring. If you care to discuss his feelings on the subject of your conduct with his sister, I suggest you take it up with him right now."
Levington halted with his mouth half open to speak. With a hasty glance, he found Robert hovering at the edge of the floor. Ned did not have to turn around to see the formidable expression on Robert's face.
With barely a second's hesitation, Levington put on his most gracious smile and, making his leg to Christina, left her in Ned's capable hands.
Christina appeared to suppress a flinch, as Ned turned to direct her a reproachful look.
“My dear, little fool,” he said, smiling pleasantly for the crowd. “Are you truly unaware of the grave error you were about to make?"
“Error, my lord?” Christina's toothy smile was as patently false as his.
“Correction. Errors." Only then, as the music had started, had he recognized the opening notes of a waltz. “May I presume that in addition to granting that gentleman a third dance, you also neglected to obtain the hostesses’ permission to waltz?"
“You may. But what if I told you I do not recognize the hostesses’ authority over my choices either of dance or of partner?” Christina could not say this without a note of frustration.
Ned's lips gave a twitch, and his eyes held more than a touch of sympathy as he again offered her his arm; but he refused to allow her the same code of conduct he used for himself.
“Minx,” was all he said, as he calmly ushered her off the floor.
When Ned did not head for one of the patronesses to ask permission to waltz with her, but, instead, led her to a refreshment table, she balked. “Where are we going?"
“To obtain a glass of orgeat. I think you stand in need of a dose."
“I did not come here to be doctored with barley water, thank you. I came to enjoy the dance, which to most people means to waltz."
A Pair of Rogues Page 7
