“Absolutely not. If you want to be meddlesome, you’re going to have to deal with the consequences.” Jo stood beside Tabitha, digging her heels in when Tabitha tried physically to move her. “I do heartily approve of the meddling, but you know how I feel about the hiding.”
“You’re being utterly foul. You do realize that, don’t you?” Tabitha couldn’t prevent the scowl from overtaking her features.
Jo clucked her tongue. “Of course I do. But aren’t we supposed to be looking for an attractive imbecile with whom to thwart your brother?”
“It won’t work.” The smooth, rich voice of Lord Devonport reverberated at Tabitha’s other side, and she jumped. “He fully intends not to be foiled by you, Lady Tabitha.”
She pinched her eyes closed. Blast, how had she not noticed Lord Devonport coming her way? She’d as soon die of mortification as allow him to hear her plans for Toby. But it was too late for that.
Still, maybe the gentleman would prove himself useful.
“And what, pray tell, is he planning, Lord Devonport?” Steeling herself, Tabitha turned to face him. The laughter in his eyes never ceased to captivate her. Someone ought to find a way to bottle that joy so everyone could experience it. “Surely you know, since you’ve been over there with him this last half hour. What does he intend to do to me this time?”
“Alas, I cannot tell. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
“Would it not be more gallant to warn a lady of a plot against her, my lord? Surely you must recognize the difficulty of my position.”
The smile moved down to his lips. They looked soft, like velvet. Tabitha had a sudden, irresistible urge to kiss them, just to find out for sure. But that was a ridiculous notion.
“Ah, but you do not seem to recognize the inherent problems of mine.”
The way Lord Devonport stared at her was more than just a little unnerving. Tabitha realized she was toying with her necklace and forced herself to stop, allowing her arms to fall straight at her side.
“And neither of you recognize the adversity of mine,” Jo said. Her voice seemed much louder than either of theirs had been, though surely no one else could hear her. “If you’ll excuse me, I must go and visit with Lady Crestridge. That shade of evening primrose makes her complexion look downright ghastly.”
Jo strolled away, and as usual, a series of eyes followed her path across the ballroom, Tabitha’s included. When she turned back to Lord Devonport, however, his eyes had not left Tabitha’s person. Oh, why had Jo decided to abandon her? She’d been Tabitha’s one source of protection against...against what, precisely? Surely she didn’t need protection from Lord Devonport, a perfectly agreeable gentleman—one who was essentially family.
So why did she feel like she needed fortification? Why, all of a sudden, did his gaze make her skin tingle? The prickles of goose flesh that had popped up along her arms were perplexing. Tabitha wasn’t cold—rather she was exceedingly warm—and she was experiencing the joint, warring desires to leave Lord Devonport’s presence without looking back and to draw closer to him.
Tabitha had been attracted to men before. More than attracted, actually. She’d thought herself in love with one of her father’s footmen once upon a time. But James Marshall had never made her feel quite like this—nervous and flighty, and somehow even a little bit attractive. On second thought, maybe Jo had been right. Maybe she was feeling ill. No gentleman in possession of his faculties would ever find her attractive. She brushed the notion away and faced Lord Devonport again.
“The inherent problems of your position?” she asked, wishing her words had not come out sounding strangled. Good Lord, it sounded like she was attempting to swallow an entire flock of geese. “And what might those be?”
“Surely you can work that out on your own, my lady.”
He leaned closer to her and the heat of his body wafted a trail of his cologne over her. It was musky and spicy and manly; it tingled against her nose and tantalized her to draw closer to him.
“If I am to maintain my reputation as a gentleman in your eyes,” he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper, “I must divulge secrets that are not mine to tell. However, if I am to maintain the same in the eyes of your family, I may do nothing of the sort.”
His eyes bored into hers. Tabitha felt as though he could see straight into her mind, directly into her heart. Her pulse beat a frantic pace against her neck. She wished he would touch her right there, just below the lobe of her ear, to calm the pulsing, heated flow.
“Indeed,” she said. “That is quite a predicament.”
“Perhaps you would do me the honor of dancing with me. It might gain us a bit of time so we can decide what must be done about the situation.”
Sure enough, the ballroom floor before them was once again beginning to fill with couples taking their positions for the next set. She ought to refuse. Dancing always made her feel like everyone was watching her.
Tabitha didn’t want anyone to watch her. She wanted to disappear into the background where no one would stare at her plumpness and think horrid things of her. Granting a dance to Lord Devonport would surely catch the attention of Lord Oglethorpe, thereby forcing her to redouble her efforts to disappear after the set was over.
But then he placed her hand in the crook of his arm, and the intoxicating heat of him traveled the entire length of her side. She was enveloped in his scent as he led her to the middle of the ballroom and took her into his arms. One hand gently gripped hers and the other settled at her back.
Oh, blast. It was to be a waltz. Why could it not be a reel or a quadrille, something where she could regain her senses and rediscover her ability to converse? Something where he wouldn’t be touching her. Something where he wouldn’t feel all the valleys and crevices of her body beneath her gown. This, more than anything else, was precisely why she tended to avoid dancing, in general.
When the music began, he nudged her into motion and Tabitha looked up at him. Lord Devonport still had not stopped smiling down at her with those bedeviling blue eyes. It ought to be illegal for a man to have such beautiful eyes, particularly when God had seen fit to grant her such lackluster and uninspiring eyes.
“What are you thinking?” he asked congenially. “I doubt I’ve ever seen you so perplexed.”
Well, maybe he couldn’t quite read every thought in her head. There was one small favor. “Why have you asked me to dance?”
Lord Devonport laughed. It was a rich sound. Full. One she had heard countless times before. One which she could never grow tired of hearing. “Not fair, answering a question with a question.”
“At least I was honest,” Tabitha retorted, even while acknowledging to herself that it wasn’t full honesty. “I was wondering why you’d asked me to dance. So why have you?” And why was he tightening his hold at her back, drawing her closer to him, instead of attempting to put more distance between them? Her heart took up an irregular rhythm in her chest, and her breathing soon matched it.
He twirled her around in his arms, gracefully guiding her through the other couples. In his arms, waltzing felt like the most natural thing she could be doing. He made her feel light on her feet and elegant. Yet the eyes of the ton trailed over them, prickling at Tabitha’s skin. Staring at them. Wondering why he would be paying her any attention.
“I asked you to dance because I wanted to dance with you,” Lord Devonport said.
So he wouldn’t play fair. “Very well. So if I promise not to let on that you’ve told me, will you tell me what devilry Toby is up to?”
Lord Devonport regarded her for just a moment longer than necessary. “No.” The monosyllable was almost inaudible, but firm.
“Why not?”
“Why should I trust you won’t think me to be involved in his plans?”
“Stop answering my questions with questions.”
A practiced, naturally charming smile worked its way into every corner of his features. A smile meant to melt a lady into submission. “I believe yo
u started us on this course, if I’m not mistaken.”
Tabitha would not be melted into submission, not by Lord Devonport or any man. She pierced him with her frostiest glare. “You are in on it. You’re here, dancing with me, because Toby sent you.” Lord Devonport did not deny her accusation. He just looked at her with those same blazing, blue eyes, but they were now filled with something she could not quite decipher. What an utter fool she’d been, to allow herself to think for even a moment that any man would admire her. “I am not feeling well. Excuse me.” She removed herself from his grasp, turned on her heel, and fled from the ballroom, not stopping until she reached the ladies’ retiring room.
She silently cursed Toby for being Toby, cursed Owen for not stopping Toby from being Toby, cursed Jo for deserting her when she needed her most, cursed Lord Oglethorpe for having her in a state to begin with, cursed Lord Devonport for the prickles still running over her entire body, and cursed herself for being an absolute ninny.
And blast it all, she hadn’t found an unsuspecting debutante to toss into Toby’s path yet.
~ * ~
Noah watched the backside of Lady Tabitha—a bit more thoroughly than he ought to have done—as she scurried out of his presence. What on earth had just happened? It was crazy enough that he’d gone along with Shelton’s suggestion to pursue her. After all, something had to be afoot, something he was unaware of, if both brothers were encouraging him in this manner, particularly when they knew she would despise it. But for her to respond favorably to his attentions at first, and then become as warm as a colossal block of ice? What had he missed in that conversation? What oughtn’t he to have done?
The sudden change in her deportment hadn’t been some figment of his imagination, either. It had happened as surely as she had feigned illness in order to escape. Noah had been surrounded by women his entire life. He would never be so brash or foolish as to claim to completely understand them, but he came a lot closer to doing so than the vast majority of his contemporaries.
Noah wasn’t certain how long he stood alone in the middle of the ballroom floor, but he suddenly realized the other dancers were clearing off and turning to face the dais, with a few of them left staring at him. What a dolt he must look, having been abandoned by his partner in the midst of the waltz.
Claremont and Leith stood off to the side of the ballroom, gesturing frantically to him. As he made his way across the floor to stand beside them, Noah became vaguely aware that his mother and Glastonbury were standing with Lord Scantlebury on the platform, looking fit to burst with their news. In all that had happened since his arrival this evening, he’d nearly forgotten their intention to announce their betrothal tonight.
Scantlebury held up his hands and started to speak, and the hubbub dulled to the level of a kitten’s mewl. Noah couldn’t hear what their host was saying, however, due to Claremont’s insistent chatter in his ear.
“What in God’s name just happened out there? Did you insult my cousin?”
“Of course I didn’t.” At least he didn’t think he had. Dash it all, what if he had somehow inadvertently affronted her? Raynesford would never let him hear the end of it. Shelton would likely do something far more impetuous, not to mention far more injurious to Noah’s person.
“Then why did Lady Tabitha leave you out there?” Leith pressed him.
“You’ve done something to upset her as sure as I’m standing here,” Claremont said. “She looked close to tears.”
Close to tears? He’d made her cry. He was a cad, through and through. He should be horsewhipped. Gentlemen who left ladies in tears were no gentlemen at all. Still, now was not the time for this discussion. “Do keep your voices down. I’m trying to hear what they’re saying. We’ll discuss this later.”
Leith gave a halfhearted chuckle. “You know good and well what they’re saying. They’re just announcing the betrothal. You’re her son, for Christ’s sake. Surely you already knew that.”
Of course he already knew, but listening to their declaration would at least buy Noah some time to figure out what had gone wrong when he danced with Lady Tabitha. “How did you two know? They’re only revealing it now.”
Claremont’s ambiguous expression greeted him. “Glastonbury has been chasing after your mother for nearly a year, and she hasn’t exactly been discouraging his attentions, now has she? I doubt more than a dozen people present aren’t already fully aware that they intend to marry. Stop avoiding the issue at hand. What did you do to Tabitha?”
By Jove, these Shelton men were next to impossible to put off the hunt when they smelled blood. By this point, Glastonbury’s announcement had been made and the crowd had burst into clamorous cheers. There was no more point in attempting to listen. No more point in attempting to avoid Claremont and Leith’s questions.
Noah dragged a hand through his hair, more than likely mussing it beyond repair. “I don’t know. I don’t have any idea what happened. She was smiling and enjoying herself with me one minute, talking and laughing and the like, and then the next she wasn’t. Then she left. You two seem to know more about what happened after she left me than I do. I only know she walked away.” Crying. Good God, he ought to be hanged.
“You have to fix it,” Claremont insisted. “Whatever you did, you need to undo. I hope for your sake Owen and Toby didn’t notice the way she darted away.”
“No, that wouldn’t do at all,” Leith said. “But I think Raynesford was in the card room. No telling where Shelton got off to. He probably found a lusty widow to entertain. Either way, you have time to make amends before they discover what you’ve done.”
This was utterly maddening. “How can they discover what I’ve done if even I don’t know what I’ve done?” Claremont and Leith merely looked at him with a combination of pity and annoyance.
Noah sighed. “This whole affair was an absolute fiasco. I can’t believe I agreed to go along with it in the first place.” Particularly since he actually felt more than just a modicum of affection for the lady in question. He had disappointed himself more than anyone else. “I think it will be best if I look elsewhere. Lady Tabitha seems disinclined to play along.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Claremont frowned. “Fiasco or not, you’ll still have to sort it out. Don’t give up on Tabitha just yet.”
“But,” Leith started, eyeing his long-time friend askance, “perhaps it would not hurt for Devonport to see what other offerings the marriage mart has to offer. Why don’t you and I join him tomorrow at the musicale? We can help steer him in the direction of young misses who could suit his needs. You can bring Helen along. She and Elaine would enjoy that, at least.”
Pinching half his lips into a frown, Claremont eventually nodded. “Leith and I will leave you to it. Looks like you’ve got a crush waiting to offer their congratulations and well wishes for your mother’s engagement. We’ll see you tomorrow at Lady Kirkaldy’s event.”
They turned and left. Within moments, a sea of gentlemen swarmed Noah, shaking his hand and clapping him on the back. No means of escape were left open to him.
~ * ~
The door to the ladies’ retiring room opened and slammed shut. Tabitha winced from the fresh pang that assaulted her head.
“What on earth do you mean by leaving Devonport in the middle of the ballroom and rushing off to hide in here?” Jo’s voice continued to pound in Tabitha’s head long after her words had ceased.
“I wasn’t feeling well,” Tabitha replied, holding a hand over her eyes to block out the pain. In all honesty, she did have a headache now, even if she hadn’t when she’d taken flight to escape Lord Devonport’s presence. If it hadn’t been fully formed when she’d left him, the interim thirty minutes or so of analyzing every aspect of their interaction had completed the job.
“What an utter fib.” How could Jo always see straight through her? Highly irritating, that. “Tell me what really happened. And don’t you dare try to mince your words. I’ll know. It will save us both a lot of tr
ouble if you’ll just be out with it straight from the beginning.”
Tabitha glanced around, making certain no one else could overhear, even though she’d been in the exact same spot for long enough to already know they were absolutely alone. Perhaps she was just trying to stall—to avoid having to answer her cousin. If she could put off telling Jo, then maybe she could put off admitting it all to herself.
But then Jo scowled and planted her hands on her hips in a perfect imitation of Tabitha’s late mother. “Tabitha Eleanor Shelton, you answer me right this minute. What happened out there?”
“I don’t know! I don’t have the first iota of an inkling what happened.” Which, truth be told, was all the more perplexing. “Lord Devonport asked me to dance, and he never asks me to dance. I thought he refrained because he knows I don’t like it. But tonight he asked me, and then we were dancing and talking, and he was smiling at me with those devilishly handsome eyes, and I was tingling from the tips of my ears to the soles of my feet. I could have sworn he was flirting with me, but we both know that isn’t possible, because why on earth would a gentleman like Lord Devonport possibly flirt with a stout old maid like me? But even still, I think I wanted him to be flirting with me, which is perhaps even more ridiculous a thought since it couldn’t possibly ever happen. And then I realized how irrational I was being, and I knew he had to be going along with whatever Toby was planning, and that was that. I wasn’t going to play along with his games any more, and I left.”
Finally Tabitha took a breath. Hot, salty tear tracks were coursing down her cheeks. Good God, why was she crying? She hastily brushed them away and looked up at Jo, whose expression, for once, was indiscernible.
“You have feelings for him,” her cousin murmured.
“Well of course I have feelings for him,” Tabitha said. “He’s practically family. He’s Elaine’s brother, and he’s been spending his holidays with us for five years. He’s almost like a brother. Which makes me even more a ninny than I already was.”
Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) Page 4
