The Audacious Miss

by Joan Vincent

  Chapter 17

  “Sir Maurice, how very good to see you,” twittered Lady Darby. “You did receive my message?”

  “Of course, and took it in good grace. Opera is not my passion as you well know,” he answered accusingly.

  “It was quite fortunate that Lady Mandel’s box was not filled. We shall be sitting with them,” she announced proudly. “The Mandel’s daughter, Lady Lucille, and Audacia are becoming fast friends. Of course that opens so many doors,” the viscountess ended smugly.

  “Yes, Yes. But how has Audacia taken to society? There was some concern on my part that—” Sir Maurice began.

  “She has done marvellously,” Lady Darby gushed. “So wise for her age. Why even Lord Greydon has paid her court, but she has eyes only for our Patrick. And he seems similarly inclined. Your dear Ann would have been so pleased I know, to see how matters are progressing between the two.”

  “Can’t say the thought didn’t rattle across my mind that the two might suit. I seem to recall them playing well together as children.” Sir Maurice beamed at the prospect of his daughter being happily settled.

  “Father,” Audacia exclaimed out as she entered the salon. She flew into his arms.

  “Why, my dear girl. You quite take my breath away. It has not been that long since we last saw each other,” he blustered to hide his own emotions.

  “A world away in time, Father,” she replied, drawing back.

  “You sound at odds, look a bit peaked. Is everything all right?” Sir Maurice asked, studying her carefully.

  “Of course everything is well,” Lady Darby said stepping between the two. “Merely the rigors of all the dancing and excitement, is it not, Audacia?”

  “Yes, my lady,” she answered softly.

  “She is only excited because Patrick is coming with us to the opera. Ah, I believe I hear him now.”

  “Mother,” young Darby said as he bowed, “and Sir Aderly. We rejoice that circumstances have brought you to London.” He swaggered forward and offered his hand.

  Sir Maurice took the limp white fingers in his huge, work-stained hand. He eyed the plump figure and mentally snorted. Lord Darby’s seed had not bred true.

  “Patrick has been showing your son about London,” the viscountess continued to prattle.

  “Daniel? Have you seen him this day? He was not at Lord Hillern’s quarters and I’ve had no reply from the message I had Ballin take there this afternoon.” He shrugged. “Not that I’m concerned. Daniel did not know I was to be in London.”

  “Oh, you are not to worry, Sir Maurice. I am certain Patrick has taken excellent care of Daniel. One never knows what exploits a young lad will fall into, but Patrick,” she took his arm and gazed at him proudly, “will have seen that no harm has befallen him.”

  Smiling despite his displeasure at his mother’s heavily sweetened manner, Darby languidly waved a hand. “Daniel was at Tattersall’s with Hillern this morn. I believe they meant to drive to Dartford to test a new pair the viscount purchased. They will likely return in the morn. Hillern always travels pleasurably.” He raised a brow with approval.

  “Had hoped to see him this eve,” the baronet said unhappily, “but you and I shall have a good visit.” He patted Audacia’s arm. “What has happened to your hair?” he blurted as he realized why she appeared so different to him. “And that gown?” Sir Maurice’s eyes swept to Lady Darby. “Is it not rather too—”

  “Fathers,” twittered Lady Darby. “You are all alike. I imagine Lord Darby will take on such airs when our Helene is of an age,” she dismissed his objections.

  “Patrick, order the coach. It will be good to arrive at the opera before the crush.”

  * * * *

  “I see Sir Aderly has come to town. I wonder what prompted that?” Geoffrey said as he gazed from Lord Greydon’s box across to Lord and Lady Mandel’s. “At least he seems to be making Lady Lucille smile.” He turned to Greydon. “Why has she turned so glum? Did she say anything that indicated I had displeased her?”

  “You forget, I did not speak with my sister apart from you,” the earl noted with a dry smile. The squire had mentioned Lucille or asked about her more oft since they left her at his mother’s than any time prior, even seven years past. Greydon took this for a good sign but could not rid himself of the worry that his friend’s heart was pledged elsewhere. As he glanced to his mother’s box his eyes chanced to meet Audacia’s. Their gaze held until her father spoke to her.

  “Why don’t we walk about after the next act? I think you would enjoy a chat with Sir Aderly, forthright fellow. Hope he’s sense enough to put some distance between Audacia and that Darby fellow. See how that fop is dressed this eve? Did you ever see such a colour—puce, perhaps? Uncomely as foul weather. Even your black is less offensive,” Geoffrey noted taking in the earl’s overly sombre black evening dress.

  “You object to Darby?” Greydon questioned casually.

  “Would you not object if that jackanapes was lollygagging near your sister?” the squire shot back. “Gad, man, think of what he is.”

  “I think I should like to meet the baronet. It would give you an opportunity to speak with . . . Audacia,” Roland offered.

  A smile lit Geoffrey’s features as his eyes went back to the Mandel box. “Yes, I have not had as much time with her as I would like since I arrived. Let us go now. There is ample time, and if not, there will be seats enough when the other visitors leave the box. Come.”

  * * * *

  “Those two young men are a good study for what is best in England,” Sir Aderly noted firmly after Lord Greydon and Squire Webster had left the box following the end of the act. “Your brother has a firm hand, Lady Lucille. His looks are as pleasing as Squire Webster’s, wouldn’t you agree?”

  A tinge of red came to her cheeks. “Both are considered handsome by the eligibles, I believe,” she answered softly.

  “‘Eligibles.’” The baronet gave a hearty chuckle. “But come, my lady, are you not one?” he teased. “I do believe the squire is partial to you.”

  Lady Lucille’s face flamed red. She agitatedly fanned herself. “That is an unkind jest, sir,” she said, rising. “Mr. Darby, would you be so kind as to escort me to the refreshments?”

  Sir Aderly looked on in confusion as Patrick leaped to his feet, and in seconds the two were gone.

  Lady Darby rose also. “I shall go with them.” Sir Aderly’s failure to include her son in his praise had not pleased the lady. She deemed it fitting punishment to deprive them of her company for a time.

  “I apologize, Lady Mandel,” he began after the viscountess’ departure. “I had no intention—”

  “No offence given or taken,” the marchioness assured him. “My daughter is unusually sensitive about Geoffrey still.”

  He nodded with shared understanding. “An old man tends to be clumsy,” he sighed. “I had hoped a better ending for the pair.”

  “As I also did.” She smiled sadly. “But tell me more of your work. Will it truly be a boon for owners as well as tenants? Lord Mandel will wish to know all.”

  The conversation flowed unheard past Audacia. She had been withdrawn since Greydon’s entrance into the box. How can he act so coldly? she asked herself repeatedly. I should tell father.

  Tell him what? her mind teased.

  Seeking safer, less turmoil-ridden ground, she turned her attention to her plans for Geoffrey. Something was clearly amiss there. Lady Lucille’s eager interest of the morn, which had shown such promise was but apathetic indifference now. Audacia wanted to shake the older woman. It was clear to her that Geoffrey loved Lord Greydon’s sister. The match was suitable on all grounds.

  The exchange between the marchioness and her father puzzled her. Apparently there was more between the squire and Lucille than she knew. But when? Geoffrey had not been to London for almost eight years except for occasional business dealings. Was Lady Lucille the reason for his absence?

  “My dear, are you quite all right?
” Lady Mandel asked her. “You have the strangest look. Do you feel faint?”

  “No. No, my lady.” Audacia jerked her attention from the thought that had just burst through her mental haze. “I am fine.”

  Sir Maurice rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He had seen such looks before. Never had they presaged an uneventful time for him.

  Lady Darby’s voice preceded her into the box. “Isn’t Patrick thoughtful, insisting upon bringing Audacia an ice. Of course, you know he thinks the world of her.” Her confidential tone was belied by its volume. “But then, I shan’t want to spoil their surprise.” She tripped lightly into their midst, a beaming smile announced that she had forgiven all.

  * * * *

  “Are you warm enough? The night air is damp,” Lord Greydon said as he handed his sister into his high-perch phaeton.

  “Believe me, Roland, I shall enjoy the air. Mr. Darby is almost more than one can bear. I pleaded the headache and fatigue only to escape.”

  “It was a sham?”

  “It was the only way I could see to manage it so that we could have some time alone. You do not mind?”

  With a shake of his head, he flicked the reins and said, “What is in that devious head of yours that requires such privacy?” His teasing smile faded as he saw that tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. “Speak of what troubles you,” he urged gently.

  Lady Lucille angrily dabbed the tears away. “I do not mean to make a scene,” she promised and blew her nose. “It is all rather simple. I wish your aid in helping Geoffrey achieve a match with Audacia,” she said hurriedly before courage should fail.

  “A match between them? Surely you cannot mean that? Why, you are in—” He stole another look at his sister. “Why?”

  “You have seen the care, the concern he shows for her. They both brighten when they see each other. You cannot deny it,” Lady Lucille rushed on. “My chance was lost long ago when I proved unworthy. No, do not interrupt me,” she silenced his objection. “I have never spoken of what occurred between Geoffrey and myself then and I will not do so now. Only believe what I say.”

  Slowly Greydon nodded.

  “You cannot disclaim he cares for her, can you?” she asked, her heart breaking.

  Numbly, he nodded again.

  “I am so sorry, Roland, but we owe him this. With Audacia at his side he would be happy. You have seen how she was able to bring life back to him after we failed. Won’t you help?”

  The conflict between guilt and personal desires, his uncertainty and what he perceived as fact, bruised Roland’s heart and mind. In the end he nodded once again.

  * * * *

  Audacia was almost thankful to Lady Darby for having manoeuvred her into this walk with Patrick on the lantern-lit paths at Covent Garden, where their party had gone to sup after the opera. He had proven pleasingly silent, thus freeing her to dwell on Lord Greydon.

  He had sensed the earl’s haunted, brooding eyes had been upon her oft this eve. Her heart longed for a way to free him from a torment no one else seemed to notice.

  “What are your thoughts, Miss Aderly?” Darby asked, watching Audacia. He tried to gauge if the time was opportune for him to bring matters between them to agreement.

  “I was thinking of Lady Lucille and Squire Webster,” she answered, bringing the pair who was not far from her thoughts to the fore. “Do you think they suit?”

  “Each other?” Patrick asked in surprise.

  “Who else?” Audacia laughed.

  “They are of a like age. Now that you mention it I think it a capital idea,” he answered, beaming. A question that had troubled him was erased by this suggestion.

  “Good, then you will be willing to help?”

  “Anything to please you, but how, Audacia?”

  The possessive tone he used sent a warning chill through her. “I think we should return now.”

  “Let us walk on for a short space. There is so much I would say,” Patrick urged smoothly.

  “We can have little to say to one another that cannot be said in the presence of all, Mr. Darby.” Her tone sharpened as his hand continued to press her forward.

  “You wish my aid in the squire’s cause. I can do much for him. You saw how Lady Lucille listened, hung upon my every word. Why, I have her in my pocket,” he preened and moved his hand to capture hers.

  “Please release me,” she said softly. Anger won over fear as she realized they were alone on the dimly lit walk.

  “My dear,” he protested, grabbing her other hand, “you must realize how I feel about you. It has been no secret. Even your father agrees a match between us is ideal,” he said, drawing her closer.

  “You have no reason to speak thus to me,” she said loudly. “I have offered you no encouragement. Release me or I shall scream.”

  “As you wish. Scream all you like. Here it shall not be heeded. Do you think me a fool? Come, my sweet, relax and you shall enjoy this as much as I.”

  The strength of the pompous dandy surprised and alarmed Audacia. “No,” she screamed, and kicked and struggled with all her might.

  “‘Tis unwise for you to anger me,” Darby spat. “It puts me of a mind not to be gentle. You shall learn your lesson.” Twisting her arm, he tightened his hold.

  The pain cleared Audacia’s conscience of any objections to any action on her part. She stopped struggling in hopes he would grant her an opening. Then she heard running steps.

  In a second Darby’s hands were wrenched from her by a dark, tall, looming figure. Flesh and bone met in a dull muffled thud as a fist relieved Patrick of consciousness.

  The dim light half concealed her rescuer’s features, but Audacia recognized Lord Greydon’s stance. Her heart leapt. She trembled, realizing he had but to open his arms for her to surrender to their embrace.

  “Are you witless to go walking alone with every man you know?” he asked, anger masking his concern.

  “I could have managed by myself,” she half cried. Fear, anger, and disappointment stole what equilibrium that remained. “I hardly needed you.”

  Greydon started as if slapped. “I see,” he breathed slowly. “Are you unhurt?” came after a pause.

  “Only my arm—just a bruise. What of him?” she asked, the near hysteria in her voice beginning to fade.

  “More unharmed than I would have him,” Greydon said contemptuously. “If you feel you can, we should return to your party,” he suggested tonelessly.

  With a nod, she began to walk slowly forward. Roland’s silent company close behind was a strange comfort. But the words Audacia overheard him speak a short time later in an aside to Geoffrey took away the little warmth she had found.

  “You had best hurry your ‘lad’ to the safety of Warwickshire. You are for each other and the country.”

  Chapter 18

  Rain drizzled down the windows of the morning room at No. 31 Mount Street. Clouds had darkened the sky from early morn. They reflected the mood within.

  Helene bounced into the room. “Why don’t we dress as boys and go about in the rain?”

  “I should never have told you of my wicked ways.” Audacia smiled vaguely and laid aside the unread magazine she held. “The weather is so dismal,” she sighed, rose, and walked to the windows.

  “Everyone has been so downcast of late,” Helene bemoaned, and plopped into a chair. “Hardly any of you are even civil anymore.”

  “Your mother has been critical again?” Audacia asked vacantly, still staring at the rain-soaked street.

  “She has not been. That is what worries me,” the young girl returned. “When Mother forgets to find fault with me she is truly worried. Do you know what could occupy her so, Audee?”

  “Why, no. I haven’t noticed anything unusual. Look, a hackney is halting at our door.” She pressed her nose to the glass. “It’s Geoffrey. Excellent,” Audacia brightened.

  “Now, please, Helene, I must speak to Squire Webster alone.”

  “Will you let us dress as boys and go about th
e park?” Helene demanded irritably. I hope I never grow up, she thought as she awaited the reply. Even Audacia is no longer any fun.

  “All right—anything,” Audacia whispered as she heard the butler’s approach. “Go as soon as Trotter is out of sight and warn me if your mother returns.”

  Geoffrey’s posture was as limp as the dampened cloak he handed the butler before he glumly followed him to the morning room. For him the presence of the youngest Darby was a relief. Audacia was certain to object when she learned his reason for calling.

  But the squire’s respite proved brief. True to her bargain, Helene slipped from the morning room as the sound of Trotter’s footsteps faded.

  “You have neglected me shamefully,” Audacia challenged. “I know you were invited to Salver’s ball this Thursday past and you let me be prey of all the fops and dandies. There has been no opportunity to speak with you since I saw you last at Covent Garden with Lady Mandel’s party,” she complained.

  “Speaking of that—what was it that happened to young Darby? There is a rumour about that a very blackened eye is keeping him close to his rooms this past week. You wouldn’t be responsible for that?”

  “Why would I have reason to do such a thing?” Audacia asked irritably. “It is you I wish to— ”

  “First let me tell you I have decided to return to Web Hall.”

  “But you can’t,” she protested in dismay.

  “There is no reason for me to remain here,” he returned with finality.

  Concern wrinkled Audacia’s brow as she slowly sank into a chair.

  “I shall look forward to your return to Bedworth,” Geoffrey added. He sat across from her, visibly relieved that she had not flown into high whoops.

  “Before your arm was lost,” Audacia said as she watched him closely, “did you mean to wed Lady Lucille?”

  A long stare preceded the squire’s answer. “There is little you did not know of me. I suppose you have guessed that?” A dry, chilling chuckle followed her answering nod.

  “It is true.” A look of the old bitterness washed over him. “When I came back from Portugal I was no longer a ‘whole’ man. Neither she nor I could adjust to it.”