Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1)

by Catherine Gayle

  Father looked up at her and scowled. “You were eavesdropping again. Will you and your cousins ever outgrow such a habit?” He shook his head as though to clear it. “It doesn’t matter how you heard what you think you’ve heard. What does matter is that he’s never said anything of the sort directly to you. Nor has he to me.”

  “He as good as admitted it to me,” Tabitha countered. “Or at least he didn’t deny it.”

  “When was this?” Father asked. His expression held dubious inquiry.

  “Yesterday afternoon. Lord Oglethorpe asked me if I wanted Lord Devonport to accompany us on our way back here. I said I wanted nothing to do with the fortune hunter. Lord Devonport did not refute my claim.”

  Her father shook his head. “Tabitha, that is hardly an admission. I think, perhaps, you ought to go down and talk to him. Sort it out like adults.”

  The only thing she wanted to sort was Lord Devonport’s backside out of her house. “There is nothing to be discussed. His attentions are unwanted. I’ll not see him.”

  “You will if I order you to,” Father said. His tone held menace, but Tabitha would not budge. “I expect you to find a husband this Season. I think I’ve made myself perfectly clear on that matter.”

  “You have. But let me make myself clear as well. I will not marry Lord Devonport. I will not go down and speak with him today. I don’t care what you do to me. You can carry me over your shoulder down the stairs, but as soon as you set me on my feet I’ll march back up to my chamber. I will not profess to entertain his pursuit, just because you want me to.” Her steadfast position on this matter had left her father’s face crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Father. I know you want what is best for me. Just please understand that Lord Devonport is not best for me. Not in the least.”

  He sighed, a long, drawn-out breath. It made him look old. Frail. Tabitha hated that she consistently added to his worries.

  Finally he said, “Very well. I’ll let Lord Devonport know you will not be down to see him. But I still expect you to do your best with other gentlemen this Season, Tabitha.”

  “I will,” she said, moving around the great oak desk between them to kiss him on the cheek. “I promise I’ll give any other gentleman who so desire a chance to pay me court.” That didn’t mean she would accept any of them. But at least it would keep her father happy.

  “Go on.” Father waved her out of his study. “Let me return to my work.”

  Tabitha hobbled on her way and spent the rest of the afternoon resting her ankle and knee. Thankfully, Lady Mallinder’s plans for the evening did not include dancing. She doubted she could handle even one set, and Lord Oglethorpe would surely expect at least that much after their encounter the previous day. She’d have to find a way to discourage his continued attentions this evening, despite the promise she had made to her father. At least he wouldn’t be present to see for himself, whatever she decided to do to dissuade Oglethorpe.

  When evening came around, Hester helped her to don a peach silk evening gown. Toby knocked on the open door of Tabitha’s dressing room as Hester fixed her coiffure. “I see you’re almost ready. But I can’t believe you’re forcing me to go with you to this vile event.”

  Typical Toby. She never once said anything to the effect of ‘Oh, gracious me, Toby. Whatever will I do? I don’t have anyone to escort me to Lady Mallinder’s tonight. Please, you absolutely must accompany me.’ She wouldn’t have done even if she felt it necessary to bring an escort. “I’m not forcing you to do anything. You may feel free to do whatever you like this evening.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and assumed a blasé expression. “Allow me to rephrase. Since Owen and Elaine had already accepted invitations to the Pulteney ball this evening and Father is off for a night of cards, no one remains to accompany you save me.”

  “What fustian nonsense. Hester can accompany me, can you not?” Even without anyone to accompany her, Tabitha would be perfectly fine. She was almost nine-and-twenty, for goodness’ sake.

  “Your maid,” Toby drawled, “has already proven herself incapable of keeping you from harm. Or have you forgotten yesterday so hurriedly?”

  “I came to no serious harm. You’re stretching for a reason to interfere again.” There was no telling what else he might be planning.

  Toby huffed. “No harm? So that is why you’ve hobbled around and nursed your knee since your return, is it? No, Tabitha. Clearly you need someone to keep an eye on you.”

  “You’re acting like I’m some naïve debutante, like I cannot be trusted to look after myself.”

  “So ending up alone with Oglethorpe, wet to your bones and with your gown plastered so he could see every curve of your body is the behavior of a lady who ought to be trusted to look after herself?” Toby stared straight through her. “I’m coming with you.” He stalked off, calling after him as he descended the stairs, “I’m ordering the carriage brought ’round. Come down when you’re ready.”

  Hester pushed a few final pins into Tabitha’s hair. “Would you still like for me to accompany you tonight, my lady? I can be ready in a few minutes’ time.”

  That would be just what she needed: Toby poking his nose into her affairs at every turn, and Hester doing so when he couldn’t. It was going to be enough just to find a way to convince Lord Oglethorpe to leave her to herself.

  Tabitha gingerly got to her feet and reached for her reticule. “No, that won’t be necessary.” She’d just have to find a way to avoid both Lord Oglethorpe and Toby. At least there should only be the two of them to contend with.

  ~ * ~

  Noah stood near the hearth of Lady Mallinder’s grand hall. The countess had set up a music area in one corner with a pianoforte, a violin, and stacks of printed music, should any of the younger ladies care to play for the gathering. Another section of the room featured tables for cards, and the older gentlemen in attendance had converged there. The hearth was surrounded by plush furnishings and had an upside-down hat resting on a table, filled with bits of parchment. He could only imagine charades would be the activity of note to take place there at some point that evening. Various seating areas were scattered throughout, rapidly filling with matrons who carried glasses of lemonade alongside small plates of biscuits and sandwiches, and who often placed their lorgnettes to their eyes in order to look down upon those supposedly beneath their station.

  Lady Mallinder had gone out of her way to make certain there was some sort of appropriate entertainment for everyone present.

  Noah couldn’t be bothered by any of it. He had only one focus for the evening, one purpose for being present. So he had situated himself where he could clearly see everyone as they came and went, and planned to remain just there until she arrived. He’d already spotted Oglethorpe, but not Lady Tabitha. When she had refused to see him that afternoon, Noah had stayed long enough to ensure Shelton would escort her tonight. Leith had already promised to attend some other function with Claremont and Miss Faulkner. Noah needed any extra help he could get.

  A group of debutantes in their various shades of white, fluttering their fans and looking coyly over at him, took up seats nearby. He looked the other way.

  “Lovely to see you here, Lord Devonport,” one of them called out.

  He stifled a sigh. It would not do to be impolite. Noah looked over to where the giggling ladies sat and found Lady Cressica amongst them. It must have been she who spoke, as he didn’t recognize any of the others. “Good evening, Lady Cressica. Ladies,” he said with a nod. This elicited another peal of giggles. By gad, they were maddening as a group. Then he turned back to the entryway and watched for Lady Tabitha.

  Finally, Shelton stepped through with Lady Tabitha on his arm, a revelation in peach silk that perfectly complemented her skin. By Jove, how he wanted to taste her skin there, just below her neck in that spot where she always fiddled with the jewels adorning her. She must not realize that her nervous gesture drew his eye, or she wouldn’t do it otherwise. Each step she took was placed gin
gerly, with great care. A smile rested on her face, but it was far from genuine. Her ankle must still be troubling her.

  She oughtn’t to have gone for a walk yesterday. She oughtn’t to have come tonight.

  He needed to get to her, to convince her to sit. Noah started to cross the room before he caught sight of Oglethorpe out of the corner of his eye. The mongrel was closer than Noah by half and wore a victorious gleam in his beady, black eyes.

  Without making a fool of himself and bounding across a cluster of armchairs, there was no way Noah could reach her first. Not that he wasn’t tempted to do just that. But he somehow restrained himself. Hopefully, Shelton would prevent his sister from making any rash decisions.

  When Oglethorpe reached Lady Tabitha and bowed, she looked up and caught Noah’s eye. Her silvery gaze widened for a fraction of a second. Just long enough for Noah to acknowledge her shock at his attendance that evening. Then Oglethorpe straightened and blocked her from Noah’s view.

  Noah continued across the grand room, making his way closer to her with each stride. When he had almost reached her, Oglethorpe turned with Lady Tabitha’s hand on his arm and walked away.

  “Why did you allow her to leave with him?” Noah asked Shelton seconds later.

  “Allow her? I dare you to try and stop Tabitha once she’s made up her mind. She acts as though she has no intention of encouraging the man in the carriage the entire way here, and then as soon as she’s in his presence she can’t be deterred. I’m as baffled by her actions as anyone.”

  Noah didn’t want to sit about in a sulk. He wanted to get closer to her, to them, so he could be sure Oglethorpe had no opportunity to compromise her.

  That meant he would have to do something the idea of which was abominably abhorrent. He walked back across the room to where he had been before and bowed to the group of debutantes. “Lady Cressica, might you like to take a turn about the room with me?” he asked, though it pained him to do so. She plastered on her artificial smile and rose to take his arm. At least having her by his side, he would appear inconspicuous to most of the assembly.

  And he wouldn’t have to talk much, because she certainly wouldn’t be. That was a small favor.

  Oglethorpe led Lady Tabitha to a settee near the pianoforte, where a young girl had positioned herself to play and sing. Noah situated himself and Lady Cressica close enough that he could see what was taking place between them at all times.

  He watched. And he waited.

  Lady Tabitha accepted a glass of lemonade from Oglethorpe and turned back to the debutante at the pianoforte. As she rotated her gaze, she locked eyes with Noah for the briefest of moments. He nodded in her direction. Color rose up the back of her neck again, though he couldn’t ascertain if it was from embarrassment or anger.

  Whichever had caused it, Noah didn’t mind. He had seen it occur all too frequently over the past many years, trained upon her two brothers. Noah liked to see the irritation in her when it was directed in his direction, instead.

  It meant she cared.

  Chapter Ten

  The previous night had been one of the most tedious of Noah’s entire life. At the same time, somehow, it was perhaps the most sensually irritating he’d ever experienced.

  He’d spent the whole of the evening with Lady Cressica at his side, a girl with no more sense than a bag of turnips, all the while watching Lady Tabitha’s every move. Lady Tabitha, however, spent the entire evening fawning over the attentions Oglethorpe lavished upon her.

  When Oglethorpe spoke, she leaned in to listen, and Noah’s eyes were drawn to her entirely-too-covered bosom. When Oglethorpe stood, she took his hand, and Noah thought of the softness of the skin kept hidden beneath her kid gloves. When Oglethorpe walked, she walked along his side, and Noah itched to be the one her hip and thigh brushed against as the silky fabric swirled and swayed about her legs.

  He’d gone home with a headache and a throbbingly painful erection, the likes of which he could hardly remember experiencing in his life, pushing against the flap of his trousers.

  And now, he’d had about all he could handle. Lady Tabitha’s avoidance of him had to come to an end. There was nothing else to be done for it. He would have to find a way to get her to speak to him, and then he’d have to pay the piper.

  How he intended to go about all of this, he had no idea. But a good place to start would be calling at Shelton Hall. So, there he went.

  When Livingston opened the door, Noah was glad to see Shelton coming down the stairs directly behind him. Shelton’s presence meant help. He would be sure Lady Tabitha came down to see him, even if she came grudgingly. Livingston, on the other hand, could do no more than show Noah to the drawing room and deliver the message that he had arrived to call upon her. He was no help for Noah’s cause.

  A silent look passed between Noah and Shelton, and then Shelton nodded. “Livingston, please show Lord Devonport to the drawing room. I’ll let Tabitha know that you’re here.” The look in Shelton’s eye said he intended to do far more than simply let her know of Noah’s presence. He spun around on the bottom stair and headed back up. Good. Noah hadn’t been obliged to say a word.

  After Noah had waited alone for several minutes, Shelton came back with Lady Tabitha in tow. He wasn’t quite hauling her bodily, but there was an admittedly fine distinction between that and the manner in which he tugged on Lady Tabitha’s arm as she tried to dig her delicate slippers into the floor.

  Noah stood and bowed. “Lady Tabitha.” She stared at the floor. He should have brought flowers. Next time he needed to remember flowers. His sisters had always been more amenable to a gentleman caller if the gentleman in question had brought a bouquet with him.

  “Well,” Shelton said heartily, “I’ll just leave you two alone then.” He assisted Lady Tabitha into a chair (forced would be too strong a word—somewhat) and then left, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Noah sat across from her, but she would not raise her eyes. Lavender again. Her dress was lavender sprigged muslin. He imagined the gray of her eyes would take on the shade, if only she’d look up at him. Her hair was down today, in curls that cascaded around her face and fell toward her bosom. Instead of twiddling with her necklace, her fingers toyed with one of the curls that lay there. Noah had to close his eyes for a moment. Clear his head. Although he might have done it too late; his blood was already flowing from one head to the other.

  “It seems I’ve done something to upset you again,” Noah started.

  “Yes,” Lady Tabitha said. Then she raised her eyes and glared daggers through him. He’d been right. They were a lavender-ish shade. “No. No, you haven’t done anything to upset me.”

  “You’re clearly cross.”

  She gave a brusque nod. “I am. But not due to anything you’ve done. I’m angry because of what you are. Because I allowed myself to believe you to be something else. I believed you to be honorable. I was sorely mistaken.”

  Dash it all. His blood drained back to its proper place. How had he gotten himself into such an impossible scenario?

  ~ * ~

  Lord Devonport’s face fell; he looked more downtrodden than Tabitha had ever seen him. Good. He ought to feel mortified. “What is it you think I am?” he asked.

  “You’re a liar. You’re a cur. And most damningly, you’re a fortune hunter.”

  With each point he blanched, but he did not turn his gaze away from her. He looked her straight in the eye. Steadfast. Stalwart. So he did have some pluck to him.

  “I do not deny that my financial situation is dismal,” he started. “But I have not lied to you. I have never lied to you. I may not have told you everything I should have, but I have not lied to you.”

  Tabitha scoffed. “You’re a fortune hunter. You only want anything to do with me because you know the size of my dowry. I assume this is what Toby put you up to?”

  Lord Devonport took a deep breath. “Your brothers knew of my situation. They suggested that since we already have a c
ordial relationship, perhaps you might be a more comfortable fit than another—”

  “Than Lady Cressica?” Tabitha interrupted. “Or perhaps Miss Jennings? I believe you’ve been paying each of them court as well as me. How will you make the ultimate decision? Will it be the size of the dowry, or will malleability of the bride play a factor, my lord?”

  “I don’t want either of them. I want you.” His eyes implored her. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

  Of course he wanted Tabitha. Her dowry was more than double each of theirs, and then some. “I see. You want the old, fat bride who must be desperate instead of the young, dimwitted bride who might have other options. Makes perfect sense to me.”

  “No—”

  Tabitha cut him off again. “I apologize. I oughtn’t to have said that about Miss Jennings. It was rather insulting, was it not? She is young, it is true, but I would not say she’s dimwitted. Lady Cressica, however...”

  “Stop,” Lord Devonport said. “This is getting out of hand. You haven’t allowed me to say what I came here to say.”

  Tabitha stood and walked to the door. “What is out of hand is your continued pursuit. Hear me now, Lord Devonport. You are a fortune hunter. You’re out to improve your own station through some poor, unsuspecting lady who doesn’t know better than to tie herself to the likes of you. I am not that lady. I never intend to marry at all, but I will most decisively never marry a man who wants me only for the money I bring to a marriage. May I advise you to give up your hunt? Feel free to do so at any time.”

  She walked coolly out of the drawing room and closed the door, then climbed the stairs and made her way to her chamber. Once she was safely inside, she leaned against the door and fought down the fresh bout of tears threatening to overwhelm her. Damn and blast, why did she have to be right? Lord Devonport didn’t care for her. He would never feel an affection for her, or look at her as anything other than a full coffer or a means to avoid debtor’s prison.