“With Levington? You could do a sight better than him."
“If you are so certain, I am surprised you do not dance with me yourself."
“And entertain the gossips? No, my dear. And do not flatter yourself. I was not offering my services as partner."
“If you meant Lord Buffington, then I warn you I just might scream."
Ned made a choking sound before patting her hand. His own was warm, and, as his palm brushed the tops of her fingers, Christina felt suddenly alive.
“Never fear.” His voice was intimate, and it held a surprising degree of comfort. “I'm certain Lord Buffington has already been frightened off. According to your prostrated brother, my dear friend Robert, Lord Levington has ogled you so thoroughly in front of this gathering as even to raise a blush under Buffington's dense skin."
Christina fought a prickling of shame, as he added, “A model of propriety like Buffington would never stand to see a lady he meant to wed flirting with any other gentleman. It would be a wound to his highly inflated opinion of himself. I take it you were flirting?"
Christina ignored Ned's teasing question to pose one of her own. “And you would?"
“Would what?"
“Would let the lady you intended to marry flirt shamelessly with another man."
“We are not discussing me."
“Oh? Why must we discuss all my failings and never yours?"
Ned gave her a look that contained more than a hint of bitterness.
“Because,” he said, halting in his stride to look darkly down at her, “I have been the object of so much scandal these past many years that my sins are now a matter of public record. Yours are not, most thankfully, yet. But if you continue in this headstrong manner, they soon will be, and I doubt it shall make you happy.
“Where is Louisa?” With an averted glance, he quickly changed the subject. “Shouldn't she be taking better care of you than this?"
“I doubt she feels needed, when you and Robert are doing such a splendid job."
When Ned did not reply, but kept searching the room for her sister-in-law, Christina added, “I don't know where she has gone.” His reluctance either to sit and bear her company or to dance with her wounded her pride and made her determined to annoy him again. “I'm afraid she might have come down with a headache. Why don't you inquire outside the ladies’ withdrawing room, while I wait for you here?"
Ned showed a glimmer of appreciation for her attempted ruse. “Sorry. Afraid I won't fall for that one."
“Then, if you do not mean to dance, I wish you would introduce me to one of your friends."
“My friends do not haunt Almack's."
“All the better. I have found this company to be uninspired, despite its exalted reputation."
His glimmer changed to a frown, which he attempted to hide before raking the assembly room again with his gaze. “Where could Louisa be? I shall have to take you to Robert, which you will not like. But I cannot have you standing about with me, not after you've already got people talking about you and Levington."
“Are you afraid they will gossip about you and me?"
Ned glanced at her sharply. “I do not think you have been listening. I know you've been buried in the wilds of Bath, but let me inform you, Lady Chris, I am not someone you should be seen with very often. If at all."
Christina bestowed an indulgent smile upon him. “Coming it a bit too brown, aren't you, Ned? What harm could you possibly do me at Almack's?"
At that very moment, the music halted, throwing them into a relative quiet.
Ned turned, and in his eyes she saw a hint of the electricity that had passed between them the day before. He let his gaze comb her slowly from her toes to her head. Christina felt a heat spreading slowly beneath her clothes.
He moved a step closer, until their right sides nearly touched, and the breath from his lips teased the hair near her ear. “I could do you every bit as much harm as Levington could.” His voice rose barely above a whisper. “Do not doubt it for a moment."
As her lips fell open, he turned abruptly to lead her back to Robert. A pulse had quickened in her throat. All at once, Almack's had become so much more interesting.
But she could not leave matters the way they were, or Ned would continue to avoid her as he clearly meant to do.
“Lord Levington has promised to show me some of the sights of town,” she said, tripping along behind Ned.
“Robert will never allow it."
She grinned and replied with a confident air, “Oh, Robert's wishes never concern me overmuch. I suspect we shall contrive a way."
As Ned was spinning to face her, Louisa appeared in a flurry of green and gold satin, nearly out of breath.
“Oh, there you are, my dears. I am so happy to have found you at last. Robert and I have been separated this hour or more. But, you see, someone stepped on the hem of my skirt, and the maid in the ladies’ withdrawing room began to tell me all about her sister, poor girl, who has got herself in the most distressing predicament, and I was telling her about one of my charities I thought might help.
“I am so sorry, Christina,” she apologized. “I hope you have been sufficiently entertained and have had some interesting partners?"
“Yes, I have,” was all Christina said, as she gloated over Ned's discomfiture. Before Louisa had spoken, she had caught a glimpse of his furious glare. It had almost burned a hole right through her. She knew he was madly itching to discover just what she'd meant when she'd said that she and Lord Levington would contrive.
He did nothing about it now, however. With Louisa's appearance, his manner had reverted at once to that of the long-suffering escort, and he scarcely glanced at Christina again except to bid her a cool goodnight.
* * * *
Of course, Christina told herself later in bed, he could not continue treating her like a naughty schoolgirl caught sneaking out of the art master's room—not in front of Louisa and Robert, at least. Neither had the faintest notion of the terms she was on with Ned.
Not that she was altogether certain she knew what those terms were herself. His attempts on the one hand to regulate her deportment revealed something more than the world-weary rake, while his determined steps to frighten her off had had quite the opposite effect.
Perhaps he thought that heated looks and a low, threatening voice, carefully designed to incite lustful feelings, would intimidate an innocent like her with the hint of dangers she knew nothing of.
Well, Ned would discover that she was made of sterner stuff.
Christina wondered what she could do to annoy him next. She had certainly managed to stir him out of his snug arrogance. The worst thing she could do just now would be to rest. Without Ned to tease, the evening at Almack's would have passed with intolerable boredom, and Christina was not ready to resign herself to a life filled with that.
Well, she thought to herself, slipping down into the sheets with a sense of some accomplishment, she would simply have to see. If Ned could not be provoked by her actions at the next gathering they attended, she could always attach herself firmly to Robert Edward, and he would be frustrated into rage.
The thought of Ned's rage, and the form it might take lured her into a delicious sleep.
* * * *
The next many days saw an increase in the number of their social engagements. Christina was duly presented at Court and made her curtsy.
Fortunately, for Robert's sake, she managed to evade the Regent's eye, for his Highness always preferred a woman of ampler girth. Not that Robert had feared the Regent would make seriously improper advances to the sister of one as highly born as he, but he would not have relished the gossip if Christina had taken it into her head to flirt with the Prince.
For now that she was on the town, Robert's worries followed him every night and on into every morning, so that he could hardly get a decent night's sleep. If he and Louisa did not watch the girl carefully, she was certain to do something to cause them to blanch. At least,
Robert reflected with justifiable incense, he always blanched. Louisa apparently experienced no such anxiety over Christina's reputation. She'd already informed him it would be his task to find Christina the appropriate partner since he had already refused to consider her two candidates.
No reasonable—or for that matter, unreasonable—amount of discussion had convinced Louisa that her two first choices—Ned and Levington, for goodness’ sake!—were entirely out of the question.
Robert began to regret that Louisa had ever made the offer to bring Christina out. He missed their quiet evenings spent together at home. This running after Christina and watching whom she danced with, and how many times, whom she met, and whom she sat down to dinner with was wearing him out. Fortunately, now that Robert knew that Ned had no interest in his sister, he could trust him to take on some of the burden.
* * * *
It had been wonderful really, Robert reflected to himself one night before his dinner guests arrived, how Ned had become such a reliable friend, ever since Robert had confided to him his lack of confidence in Louisa as a chaperone. Ned had forsaken some of his own pursuits to stand by Robert in his time of need.
The first time Robert had spotted Ned at a ball on an evening he would normally have spent at the opera or at cards, he had been grateful for Ned's willingness to share the task of mounting guard over Christina.
Not that Robert had ever asked Ned to play at duena. But the second Christina's partner had crossed the line between polite flirtation and behavior beyond the pale, Ned had been quick to step in. He'd prevented them from seeking a private interview behind a heavy pair of curtains, before Robert had even realized the couple's intent. Robert could only assume that Ned's superior experience in clandestine affairs—he had so often been the perpetrator of scandals himself—had given him an instinct which allowed him to predict such occurrences before they actually transpired.
How else to explain Ned's quickness any time Christina stood in danger of exposing herself to public censure?
Robert found that this question begged an answer of its own.
Why was Ned spending so many of his evenings in their company? He never had been one to attend affairs at which the principle guests would be the season's giggling debutantes—not since his disastrous first year on the town when he'd crossed the line too many times to count. Nor had he expressed an interest in any member of this year's crop of ingenues. At least, as Robert recalled, Ned had not done much dancing, not above two or three sets in an evening, and always with different girls.
Instead, Ned spent most of his time at these affairs strolling about the rooms, stopping to speak to a friend every now and then, while his watchful gaze swept the crowd. If he indulged in a hand of cards, he was always certain to be back, scanning the ballroom again within half an hour.
The more Robert thought about Ned's recent change in behavior, the more he thought it was deucedly odd.
“I say, Louisa,” he said, as she stepped into her evening gown. He had been sitting in the armchair in her dressing room, taking a few minutes of pleasure in watching her dress. “Are you absolutely certain that Ned has no interest in Christina at all?"
With a surprised tilt of her head, Louisa gave him an indulgent laugh. “Of course, I cannot be certain unless I ask him directly. And from what I understood, that subject was to be closed.
“Why do you ask?” his dearest wondered. “Have you noticed any signs that he is?"
Robert had no wish to encourage Louisa in this direction, so he temporized, “No, no. I was merely curious why he seems to have given up his usual entertainments to attend the same functions as we so very often."
“Ahhhh, yes,” Louisa said, nodding with understanding now. “I suppose that should make you wonder. But, do you know, Robert dear, I think our friend Ned has grown rather weary of his style of life. Why else would he take such an interest in Robert Edward? And if he has formed an equal concern for Christina's welfare—not that there is any need of course—why we should do nothing to discourage him. You know how many hazards society can pose to a young lady. Perhaps, Ned is merely exercising the paternal feelings he has no other way to indulge."
Robert was not so certain. He couldn't imagine any gentleman showing this much concern for his friend's younger sister. Especially Ned.
He stood and paced. But all he said was, “I suppose you could be right."
Louisa seemed to detect his uneasiness. “If you seriously doubt his intentions, I could always change my seating arrangement for this evening. I had intended to put Christina next to Ned. It is a logical placement with respect to rank, but I had chiefly designed that seating to avoid putting her next to Lord Wimbly. His hands are inclined to wander."
“Wander?” Robert's brows shot up. “Wander where?"
“Oh...” Louisa's manner became evasive. “Wherever he wants them to, I suppose."
“You've never told me this about Wimbly! And I am positive you have been seated next to him a dozen times or more at dinner.”
His accusing stare made her pause. “My dear, if I informed you of the indelicate behavior of every gentleman I met, you would likely spend the rest of your life defending my honor. I should never again enjoy your company at dawn."
Robert felt the blood draining from his face. “I never realized,” he said. And, here, he had been running after Christina, when his beloved wife had been repeatedly subject to insult. He would have to keep a closer eye on Louisa from now on.
“No, don't move Ned,” he said, resigning himself to the inevitable need of Ned's assistance. “I daresay he can be trusted."
“Certainly he can.” Louisa joined him near the door. “I have no doubt of Ned's good intentions. You may leave those to me."
* * * *
That evening, when Ned arrived at Broughton House and handed over his hat and coat to the footman, he felt nearly as wrung out as Robert at the prospect of another evening watching Christina. He waited in the foyer with the other guests preparing to enter the drawing room and took a deep, fortifying breath. At least, this event was to be nothing more trying than a formal dinner.
Thank heavens it was not a ball. At a large gathering, the little minx could think of a dozen new ways to risk embarrassing herself. If Ned had not kept his eyes firmly open, she would have done so more times than he wished to count.
Robert had no notion of the number of occasions Ned had been obliged to prevent an incident which would have ruined his sister. Concerned as Robert was by her “ill-considered judgment,” he seemed to have no idea that the girl was not what she appeared. Beneath that crown of angel's hair and behind those clear, blue eyes churned the unrepentant mind of hoyden. Christina seemed determined to flaunt society's norms, as if she had a wish to dispense with the whole rigid mess.
In spite of the dozens of eligible bachelors Robert had tried to put in her way, Christina persisted in being most attracted to the wastrels who made a practice of hanging about heiresses, those men who made it a profession to be oily. She had an uncanny talent for attracting them to her side. While most of these men would have taken a shot at their prospects with her anyway, they had received nothing but encouragement from Christina herself. Ned couldn't decide whether she truly believed their lies or if she took a perverse satisfaction from putting herself at risk. Whatever the case, she actually seemed pleased when one of her dancing partners turned out to be a rake.
Ned had been forced to use all his diplomatic skills to avoid another meeting, like the one with Grisham in which Ned had nearly lost a leg. They had faced each other on the heath in the hour of a cold, dreary dawn. Ned's head had been aching from Christina's antics the night before, and he had barely paid his adversary any mind.
Fortunately, in trying to cripple rather than kill him, Grisham had chosen a narrow target —Ned's knee. The bullet had barely grazed Ned's thigh. Ned, who knew he had been in the wrong, had aimed for the other man's right arm in the hope of spoiling his shot. Adept at the duello, Ned had o
ften used this technique.
His unexpected miss had driven home the possibility that he might have died on the field. Grisham and he had both ridden away from the incident, but Ned had no particular wish to repeat the events of that morning.
If he had been killed, he'd wondered later, who would have made sure that Christina did not do something foolish to ruin herself that night?
Angry with Christina for getting him into such a dangerous situation, he had even tried to think of a worthy husband for her. Ned had found, however, that he knew few worthy men. If a candidate did suggest himself, Ned soon found an irrefutable reason for rejecting him. Either the prospect would have some failing no sister of Robert's should have to accept or else Ned would decide the man was simply too weak to govern her as he should.
And throughout all these travails, Ned had refrained from telling Robert just how serious the girl's antics had become. He knew that Robert's reaction would be extreme, possibly cruel. He would undoubtedly pack Christina off to live with the Dowager again, which was a fate Ned would not wish on anyone.
He might have confided his private concerns to Louisa, but she seemed to dote on her sister so much, Ned did not want to be the one to inform her what a graceless scamp Christina was. He knew too well how painful rejection by a near relation could be.
In that moment, he entered the withdrawing room where the family was greeting their guests and put his thoughts aside.
“Dear, dear Ned.”
As she spied him and held out her hands, Louisa's warm, welcoming voice acted like a balm.
Ned had always envied Robert that warmth. Sometimes, when he allowed himself to think of such things, he wondered what it would be like to have the force of a woman's love directed solely at him. Then, he always reminded himself that since he was not in love with any woman, he would surely tire of a cloying attention.
He had never kept a mistress for that reason, preferring to amuse himself with less onerous flings. But, tonight, he found himself wondering about a constant love again.
A Pair of Rogues Page 8
