by Donna Hatch
Rhys Kensington joined them. “You both look as if you’re plotting a siege.”
Tristan pointed with his chin. “Some take exception to the school Leticia and Elizabeth plan to open.”
Kensington glanced around. “Trouble?”
Richard chuckled. “Are you both ready to grab guns and go in shooting again?”
Kensington’s gun hand twitched and he grinned. “Sounds like fun. Who do we get to shoot?”
“Stuffed shirts,” quipped Tristan.
Turning to Richard, Kensington smiled. “Oh? Friends of yours?”
Richard grimaced. “That windbag is no friend of mine, and we’re not shooting him, only ensuring he doesn’t hinder fundraising.”
Elizabeth appeared at Richard’s elbow and linked her arm through his as she smiled up at both Tristan and Kensington. “Gentlemen. I haven’t received your response to our ball.”
Tristan blinked. Ball? Had he received an invitation to a ball? He couldn’t remember the last time he went through his correspondence.
“This one is special,” Elizabeth explained. “It’s a subscription ball to benefit the charity school. We’ll have an auction for men to bid on supper dances.”
“You’re auctioning ladies?” Kensington sounded scandalized.
“Dances with ladies. It’s respectable,” Elizabeth said in a defensive tone.
“And you would know.” Richard smiled at her. “You’ve developed a reputation for being the leader in proper etiquette. Next year, everyone will be having auctions at their balls for charity.”
Tristan let out a snort. “Good luck with that one. Most men I know would rather hide out in the billiards room than the ballroom, much less pay for a dance.”
“Which is why we need your help.” Leticia nudged her way into the circle. “If we get enough of the right support, other gentlemen won’t want to be outdone.” She smiled meaningfully at all of them.
Tristan groaned. “I can already tell I won’t like this.”
“I hope you will help us,” said Elizabeth. “The Duke of Suttenburg has agreed to start off the bidding and Richard will, too, of course.” She shot Richard an adoring gaze. Richard looked helpless against her subtle attack, the poor besotted fool. “The Earl of Tarrington has pledged to bid as well. Even my father agreed to be an early bidder.”
An awed hush touched her tone. No wonder. If powerful men such as the Duke of Pemberton, the Duke of Suttenberg, and the Earl of Tarrington supported the auction and the school, the foundation would succeed.
Kensington nodded. “Two dukes and an earl will have enough clout to encourage others to bid.”
Leticia nodded at Kensington. “Not to mention the influence of a military hero—a captain, to be precise. Also, if one of the most confirmed bachelors in England helps us, we are sure to succeed.” She turned a blinding smile to Tristan that blew all rational thought out of his mind.
He almost stammered under the force of that smile. He recovered his wits and drawled, “My dear Leticia, I don’t pursue women; they pursue me.”
Elizabeth looked away and Richard leveled a stare on him so hard that Tristan dropped his gaze. Very well, he generally didn’t pursue women. He’d flirted with Elizabeth at that house party last year because he liked to see her blush, and he considered her a challenge. He never expected to connect with her in so many ways. Now she belonged to Richard, leaving Tristan blissfully free from entanglements.
Leticia broke the uncomfortable silence. “Which is why you must bid, Tristan. If you of all people do, others will follow your lead.”
Tristan raised a brow. “Is there an insult in there somewhere?”
With an exasperated laugh, Leticia shook her head. “Everyone knows what a rake you are, and they also know all you have to do is smile at a woman for her to proposition you. So, if you believe in the cause enough to bid on a dance, you will influence other gentlemen to follow your example.”
He wanted to squirm. Instead, he raised his hands in surrender, if for no other reason than to get Leticia off the subject of his rakishness. His reputation had grown into a thorn in his side. “Very well, I promise to bid the first time there appears to be a lapse.”
Leticia looked at Kensington with a clear question.
Kensington nodded, but looked less than enthusiastic. “I’ll help you.”
Leticia clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! I knew we could count on you both. I can’t tell you how much this means to us and to the school.”
With her face lit by excitement, Leticia transformed into a positively enchanting fairy princess. Tristan grinned, happy to have brought that expression to her face.
The group dispersed and Tristan turned his mind from the subscription ball and began planning the details of the outing to Vauxhall Gardens, mentally checking off the guest list to be sure he’d included enough men to parade in front of Leticia, and enough ladies to make her comfortable.
He’d never felt a greater sense of purpose.
Chapter Nine
Leticia sat next to her Aunt Alice in Madame DuBois’s establishment watching as the modiste did the final measurements on Isabella’s newest ball gown.
Leticia glanced outside at the misty afternoon. Too bad they couldn’t return home and cozy up next to a fire with a novel. The day seemed suited for nothing else. She sipped her tea and wondered if Isabella were as chilled as she. Leticia finished her tea and set down her cup. “Perhaps a visit to the sweet shop would be in order as well. Isabella looks as if she is in need of refreshment.”
Isabella perked up and Aunt Alice smiled. “Yes, the very thing.”
Once they’d completed their shopping, they strolled to the sweet shop. A passing carriage splashed mud on Isabella, getting her feet and hem wet. Leticia wanted to shake her fist at the driver. By the time they arrived at the shop, Isabella’s teeth were chattering.
They found a table as far from the door as possible and ordered hot chocolate and pastries. At the ringing of the bell, and the blast of cold wet air that accompanied the opened door, Leticia looked up.
Lord Petre with his wife and mother entered. Leticia turned away, pretending she didn’t see the lord who’d renounced her cause and prevented his wife from participating.
Cradling her teacup, Isabella let out a sigh. “Ah, this is what I needed. Another four or five cups and I’ll feel right again.”
“We need to get you home and dry,” Aunt Alice said.
The dowager Lady Petre stepped into her line of vision and shook her cane at Leticia. “You are disgraceful. Young ladies should be looking for husbands, not sticking their noses into matters that don’t concern them.”
Leticia gaped at such rudeness.
Aunt Alice glared at the dowager. “How dare you insult my niece? She is a perfect lady, and I’ll not have you say ought about her.”
The dowager rounded on her. “If you were any kind of chaperone, you’d put a stop to these vulgar activities. Humph. Selling dances. Teaching urchins to read. Bah!”
Speechless, Leticia stared. Then, finding her voice, “Vulgar activities? Lady Averston and I are trying to help orphans.”
The dowager scowled. “One can forgive the Countess Averston. As a duke’s daughter and an earl’s wife, she’s entitled to her eccentricities, but you…you aren’t of high enough rank for such nonsense.” She wagged her cane at Leticia again. “Leave well enough alone and go find a husband!”
Lord Petre put a hand on his mother’s arm. “Come along, Mother. This little baggage isn’t worth your time. Thrown over by the earl, and now embroiled in radical behavior, no respectable gentleman would have her.” He turned a cold eye on Leticia. “Hussy. Go back to whatever insignificant little hole you crawled out of.”
Leticia’s stomach clenched and she ground her teeth. Her fingers itched to throw her chocolate into that boorish man’s face. “We have a great cause, and I’ll thank you to mind your own business.”
“How dare you!” Petre snarled.
Aunt Alice’s face reddened and she stood, staring down both of them. “You don’t intimidate us. Begone, vipers!”
Lord Petre held out a hand to someone out of Leticia’s line of sight. “Come. Let’s go patronize a shop with a more respectable clientele.”
Lord Petre’s wife came to him, her eyes downcast, and put her hand in his. As a group, they turned their backs on Leticia and left together. Only Lord Petre’s wife looked back with an apologetic expression before leaving with her husband and mother-in-law.
Leticia sat rigidly in her chair. Their opinions shouldn’t matter. But their words cut and Leticia bled inside.
Aunt Alice huffed. “Well, I never! They shall not receive an invitation to any of my parties, and I’ll be sure to cut them whenever I see them in the future. No one insults my family. No one!”
Isabella put an arm around Leticia. Unshed tears of sympathy shone in her eyes. “I’m sure their opinions aren’t shared by others.”
Aunt Alice patted Leticia’s hand. “That’s right. Though their rank should put them in high circles, no one likes Lord Petre and his draconian mother. Poisonous snakes, the lot of them. And Isabella, have no fear, they will not mar your entrée to society.”
“I’m not worried about that, Aunt,” Isabella murmured.
“Good.” Aunt Alice stood. “We ought to get you home and into some dry clothes, dear. Then we must lie down and rest before we attend tonight’s musicale. Oh, dear. I hope the Petres aren’t in attendance. Well, if they are I’ll cut them—publicly.”
Rallying herself, Leticia stood and tried to put on a smile. “Yes. The musicale tonight. Isabella, have you chosen the gown you’ll wear when you play?”
“The white with rosebuds.” Isabella looked at her as if she feared Leticia might burst into tears.
“Good choice.”
They left the shop discussing the upcoming musicale with forced cheer. Leticia weighed Aunt Alice’s optimism against realism. If the crusade to fund the school met with enough resistance, it might hurt Isabella’s chances of making a match. As much as she loved her cause, she’d give up anything to ensure that her sister found happiness.
Hours later, rested and dressed in their finery, Leticia, Isabella, and Aunt Alice arrived at the musicale and greeted their gracious hostess. Isabella carried her violin tucked under her arm in preparation to perform tonight in the musicale. Lovely and talented, she would surely attract attention. As long as Leticia’s imperfect performance at the pianoforte didn’t detract from Isabella’s talent, her sister would be a triumph this evening.
Elizabeth stood near Richard, each talking to their circle of acquaintances.
“Let’s say good evening to Lady Averston,” Aunt Alice said. “It won’t hurt for Isabella to be seen conversing with the countess.”
Though Leticia understood the strategy, she inwardly cringed at the thought of using her friendship with Elizabeth as a way of improving one’s importance. Elizabeth wouldn’t mind helping Isabella, of course, but it still felt wrong. Leticia glanced at her sister, but Isabella, though composed and serene, stiffened as if she were trying too hard to look pleasant. What could be amiss? Surely not nerves?
“Good evening, Elizabeth,” Leticia said.
Elizabeth beamed. “Leticia, dear, how delightful to see you tonight. And how beautiful you look.” She clasped Leticia by both hands.
Leticia hid her surprise at the enthusiastic greeting. “You look stunning as usual. You remember my Aunt, Mrs. Tallier.”
“Of course I do. She’s been kind enough to invite me to her home for dinner. It’s always a pleasure to see you, Mrs. Tallier.” Elizabeth clasped Aunt Alice’s hand then turned to Isabella. “And Isabella, I adore your gown. I hear you are already leaving a trail of ardent admirers everywhere you go, and rightly so.” Her eyes twinkled.
“Good evening, my lady.” Isabella’s smile tightened, her expression cool. “How kind of you to say, although whatever you’ve heard has been terribly exaggerated, I’m sure, as I have no knowledge of such admirers.”
Elizabeth laughed. “And modest, as well. What a treasure you are.”
“You’re too kind.” Isabella cleared her throat. “Pray, excuse me, my lady. I see someone I’d like to greet.”
“Of course.” Elizabeth nodded, as gracious as a queen.
Leticia stared after Isabella’s back. Why the abrupt departure?
Aunt Alice let out her breath in exasperation. “What has gotten into that girl?”
Elizabeth sighed. “Oh dear. I’m afraid she blames me for marrying Richard and ruining your happiness, Leticia.”
“No, surely not.” Leticia fingered her reticule.
“She may be upset over the debacle in the sweet shop,” Aunt Alice said.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “What debacle?”
Leticia shot a look of annoyance at Aunt Alice. “I wish you hadn’t brought that up. I didn’t wish to alarm Elizabeth.”
“Tell me what happened.” Elizabeth took Leticia by the arm and steered her to a corner where they could converse without being overheard.
In a low voice, Leticia replayed the accusations, trying to minimize them.
Elizabeth put a hand on her chest, her eyes narrowed in concern. “I had no idea the repercussions would be so serious. I don’t want this to hurt you or Isabella.”
“It won’t. It’s only their opinion, and anyway, Aunt Alice says they are not well-liked among the ton despite their rank.”
“That’s true.”
“Don’t worry. Everything will turn out well.”
The hostess of the soiree musicale called everyone’s attention and asked the guests to take their seats. Everyone sought their companions and seats in a flurry of movement.
When Leticia found Isabella, she leaned into her ear. “Why were you curt to Elizabeth?”
“I wasn’t—I merely excused myself as quickly as possible.”
“Why?”
Isabella hesitated, frowning. “I don’t like her. She stole Richard from you.”
“Oh, Bella, that’s not how it happened.”
“You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. I know what happened and I don’t care how high her rank is. Her behavior was inexcusable, and she doesn’t deserve to marry well because of it.”
“She fell in love, Bella. You may do foolish things when you find love, too.”
“I won’t steal anyone’s almost-betrothed.”
“Hush!”
Isabella’s mouth tightened.
Leticia didn’t know whether to weep or rejoice that her sister felt so protective of her, but Isabella’s hostility toward Elizabeth was misplaced and unwarranted. How could she help Isabella see that?
They took a seat near the back with Aunt Alice. As the first young lady took the stage, Tristan slipped in, his eyes darting around as if searching for someone. When his gaze landed on Leticia, he moved toward her, but his eyes still searched. Perhaps he sought Mrs. Hunter, or some other potential amusement.
Unaccountably, her heart grew heavy at the thought.
He slipped into the empty chair next to Leticia and he grinned like the smooth rogue of his reputation. “You look ravishing.”
Careful not to smile, Leticia let out a huff. “Your compliments are outrageous and too freely given.”
Tristan’s soft laugh touched her like a caress.
The first musician began and Leticia turned her full attention to the performance, but each breath Tristan drew distracted her. Each time he shifted, she wanted to turn and look at him.
When Isabella and Leticia’s names were called, they rose. Isabella, poised and confident, took center stage while Leticia sat at the pianoforte. After tuning her violin to the pianoforte, Isabella nodded. Leticia took a calming breath and began. At the right cue, Isabella’s violin joined in. Light seemed to fill the room as Isabella brought life to the violin. The usual noises of the audience disappeared until a mere whisper could have been heard.<
br />
Breathless, the crowd leaned in, straining to catch every note she played. Leticia’s fingers flew over the keyboard as if possessed by some muse designed to showcase Isabella’s talent. With passion and precision, Isabella played the entire piece flawlessly, and with deep emotion. Tears sprang to Leticia’s eyes at the sheer majesty of it. Leticia played on, unable to see the keys, somehow without making a mistake to mar the perfection of Isabella’s performance. When the final note faded away, silence enveloped the room. A spontaneous and deafening applause rattled the candelabras.
Leticia gripped Isabella’s hand as they took their bows. Isabella stood with head bowed demurely. Leticia wanted to hug her.
“Brava,” Tristan mouthed, nodding, admiration shining in his eyes.
Leticia straightened, her heart leaping at his approval.
When the applause died down, they left the stage. Many leaned forward to speak additional praises as Leticia and Isabella made their way back to Aunt Alice. Since they were the final number, conversation rose and fell around them.
Aunt Alice hugged them both and rocked them back and forth. “Oh, you’ll be the talk of Town.”
Tristan laid a hand over his heart. “You two stole my heart. Will you both marry me?”
They laughed and Leticia swatted Tristan’s arm, earning a very cocky grin in return.
“I didn’t realize you played that well,” Tristan continued. “The last time I heard you perform, it sounded like you were torturing a cat.”
Isabella tilted her head archly. “You call that a compliment?”
A young gentleman appeared, his eyes starry as he gazed at Isabella. “Miss Isabella, you were like an angel.”
“You’re too kind, Mr. Griffith.” Isabella lowered her eyes and her cheeks pinked enough to make her appear demure but not shy.
“May I fetch you some lemonade?” the buck asked.
Before she could agree, another young gentleman approached and bowed, first to the buck, then to Aunt Alice. “Good evening, Griffith. Mrs. Tallier.” He shot an admiring glance at Isabella before addressing Aunt Alice. “Please, Mrs. Tallier, I beg you, introduce me to this vision.” His gaze flitted toward Leticia. “Both of them.”
