Two
“I beg you to reconsider this ridiculous plan, Claudia,” Helen pleaded. She was helping her fasten the buttons on Claudia’s shimmering, pale-green gown of silk and beaded taffeta. Her brunette hair was twisted artfully in a turban of the same color as her gown while a few strands framed her face.
Claudia examined her appearance. She knew she was dressed as well as anyone at the ball would be, but she still felt as if she would never fit in.
“It must be done, Helen! The Montbattens, especially Lord Kinclary, think themselves far above almost everyone. Christina told me he had even tried to fight a duel with his sister’s husband while they were engaged.” She adjusted the emerald and diamond necklace at her throat. Lord Kinclary’s sister Katherine was now married to Lord Thomas Thornton, brother to the Earl of Kenswick and brother-in-law to their dear friend Christina. “Someone has to stand up to him and say it is enough.”
Helen sighed audibly as she grabbed the gloves from Claudia’s dressing table and handed them to her. “As much as you adore the Thornton brothers and their wives, you are only doing this for my sake, and I wish you would not. North might find out, and he will make an even bigger scene over their snubbing me.”
Claudia pulled on the last glove then took Helen’s hands into her own. “Helen, of course I am doing this for you. But you do not have to worry about your husband finding out, for I shall be most circumspect in my dealings with him.”
Helen sighed. “But do you have to do this at a ball—his mother’s ball ? I do not care that they didn’t include me on the invitation. I’m most sure it was just an oversight.”
Claudia squeezed Helen’s hands and then let them go so she could slip into her hooded cloak. “Of course Lady Montbatten meant it, and I would not doubt that her son had something to do with it also.” She tied the cape over her shoulders and faced her friend again. “Helen, we are each entitled to be respected no matter who we are or what station of life we are born to. We are all created equal and have God-given rights which are. . .uh. . .life. . .and liberty and”—she thought a moment then snapped her fingers—“the pursuit of happiness. It’s our constitutional right!” She threw her arms up, making her cape rise like wings on either side of her.
Helen looked at her strangely, then burst into laughter. “But we’re in England.”
Claudia clamped her hand over her mouth and joined her friend’s laughter. “Oh, dear. We Americans can wax patriotic at the oddest times, I’m afraid.”
Helen smiled, though Claudia could see she was still trying to get hold of her giggles. “Just please don’t do that at the ball,” she admonished, waggling her finger at her. “I can imagine you marching into the Montbattens’ ballroom, waving your American flag, and dumping tea into their fountains in protest.”
Claudia giggled and straightened her cape, which had become askew. “Perhaps I’ll don the beaded leather dress one of my Choctaw friends made for me before I left and mark my face with war paint.”
Helen walked to Claudia’s bed then returned with a satin purse. “As fun as that would be to witness, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave your war paint at home and face the wolves with only your wits to guard you.” She handed her the purse and added, “Unless I can talk you into going to my house. I do have a brand new novel we can read to each other.”
Claudia raised her brow and narrowed her gaze at her friend. “I just thought of something. You never told me how your husband reacted when he saw the invitation made out only to him.”
Helen looked at the floor. “Well. . .I didn’t exactly show him the invitation.” She started picking at imaginary lint on her cream-colored skirt. “I told him it had arrived and suggested we miss this one and attend the Beckingham ball tomorrow night.” She looked up and met Claudia’s gaze. “But shouldn’t we leave this matter in God’s hands? He will deal with the Montbattens as they deserve.”
“Of course, but don’t you think God enlists our help on occasion to make people aware of their bad manners?” She smiled at her friend. “God does not mean for you to endure such disrespect—you are His child. You are also the Duchess of Northingshire, and nothing they do or say will change that fact. But tonight perhaps I can make one man understand his actions are petty and mean. I only pray he has some decent, God-fearing part inside him that can be reasoned with.”
She turned toward the mirror one last time, and after taking a deep breath squared her shoulders. “Well, I’m ready. You’ll say a prayer for me tonight?”
Helen looked at her in the mirror and nodded her head slowly. “I shall be praying all night, for I fear you’ll need it.”
“I will come and visit you on the morrow and tell you about it,” Claudia said to Helen as they walked out of the room to go to their respective carriages. “I’m sure I’ll have good news about how the earl saw the error of his ways and will bring you his apology.” She prayed her statement would prove true.
Claudia’s great-aunt Julia, who acted as her chaperone, was in the carriage and had fallen asleep as usual. Claudia would wake her up when they arrived, and after greeting the key members of her circle her aunt would find a nice comfortable chair and fall asleep again. Claudia smiled to herself and looked out the window as the carriage began to move. At least she didn’t have to worry about her aunt reporting back to her grandfather that she had sought the audience of one Earl of Kinclary.
Since the Montbattens’ London home was only two blocks from her grandfather’s, she and her aunt were soon standing at the grand entrance to the ballroom, and their names were being announced.
She observed a few nods of greeting and curious looks as they entered, especially from some of the young men who’d been vying for her attention lately; but mostly she entered unnoticed since the party was in full swing. Aunt Julia went her way, and Claudia walked down the few steps onto the ballroom floor, casually glancing about in hopes of spotting Lord Kinclary.
“Ah, Lady Claudia!” She looked to her right and saw Lady Ravenhurst hurrying over to her. “I had almost given up on your gracing us with your presence this evening,” the older woman said in a sugary voice that surprised Claudia. Since their last meeting at the park had been such an unpleasant one, she had not expected Lady Ravenhurst to be so nice to her. “Cameron was just telling me he hoped you would save him a dance.”
Claudia wondered why. Then suddenly the woman’s agreeable attitude made sense. Lady Ravenhurst must have high hopes for her son and Claudia. “I don’t really dance—”
“Oh, nonsense!” Lady Ravenhurst scanned the room. “Oh, there he is—standing by the painting of the Battle of Waterloo. We just added it to our collection, so I’m sure Cameron would love to show it to you.”
Claudia looked about the room and noticed that all the paintings depicted different battles. Very strange décor for a ballroom, she thought. She wondered how she’d figure out which one was of Waterloo. “Um. . .I don’t know—”
“Hurry along, dear, before another young lady monopolizes his time. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” she whispered knowingly, as if the two of them shared a secret.
“I beg your par—,” she started to say, but Lady Ravenhurst had already turned and walked away. Claudia stared after her, trying to make sense of the one-sided conversation she’d just been a part of. Lady Ravenhurst was the rudest and quite possibly the strangest woman she’d ever met. She almost felt sorry for Lord Kinclary.
Almost.
She turned to the room at large then, and it was as if Moses himself had raised his staff because the crowd parted slightly, giving her a clear path to where the handsome earl stood.
And he was indeed handsome, she thought, walking toward him. His dark blond hair seemed as untamed as it had been in the park, falling over his forehead and curling about his neck in a style longer than was fashionable. His dark grey coat and breeches fit him expertly
, giving him an air of importance.
It was not unlike watching the stance of an Indian warrior, which she’d encountered many times in Louisiana. In fact she could almost imagine him in buckskins, wearing the feathers of a chief with his long hair flowing in the wind.
“Would you like a glass of punch, my lady?” a server asked, stepping in front of her and waking her from her odd musings. Claudia shook her head, dismissing the servant. She took a deep breath and cleared her head of her fanciful thoughts.
How could she admire a man who was so obviously a snob and a cad?
I couldn’t, of course, she assured herself as she started to walk again, only to find the object of her thoughts was no longer standing by the painting.
Still feeling a bit flustered, she surveyed the room and finally found him by the painting of another battle, speaking to a pretty woman in a light pink dress.
Claudia felt a pang of something that reminded her of jealousy when she saw the way the earl was smiling at the woman. But after reasoning with herself that she couldn’t feel jealousy when she didn’t even like the man, she headed in his direction again.
She was almost there when he looked up and met Claudia’s gaze. On seeing her, his eyes lit up, and his lips curved into a smile.
Suddenly she realized she was smiling back at him like a lovesick buffoon.
“Lady Claudia,” he said in his low soft voice, “I had hoped you would come.”
Claudia told herself over and over that she was here for Helen’s sake. She would not be charmed by this rogue, even though his words seemed to pour over her like honey and run straight to her heart.
“Lord Kinclary,” she said coolly, “I had wanted to see you also.”
She didn’t think it was possible, but his green eyes seemed to brighten even more, and Claudia knew her words had been misinterpreted.
And not just by the earl. “Ahem!” The young woman beside him threw her a speculative look before gazing back up at Lord Kinclary. “Cameron, won’t you introduce us?” The woman nearly purred, and Claudia wondered if the high, syrupy tone was her natural voice or one she used only around men.
Claudia did not miss the familiar use of his Christian name either. The young woman was crafty.
It seemed almost a chore for Cameron to draw his gaze from Claudia to peer down at the woman demanding his attention. “Hmm? Ah. . .yes,” he murmured. “Aurora, this is Lady Claudia, granddaughter of the Marquis of Moreland. Lady Claudia, this is Lady Aurora, daughter of Lord Donald Wyndham.”
The ladies bobbed a polite curtsy to one another, though Aurora accompanied hers with a glare.
Claudia didn’t know if it was the effect Lord Kinclary had on her or the dislike radiating from the other woman, but she wanted to do what she came to do and go home. “Lord Kinclary, I need to have a word with you, if you don’t mind.”
Cameron raised his brow at her. “Of course you may.”
Claudia noticed Lady Aurora hadn’t taken the hint, for she stood stock-still, as though she should be privy to the conversation. She was about to ask her bluntly to leave, but Lord Kinclary did it for her.
“You’ll excuse us, won’t you, Aurora?”
Aurora smiled, though it didn’t reach her dark eyes. “Of course. I’ll be right back,” she said, leaving Claudia to wonder about what sort of relationship she and the earl shared.
“I am all yours, Lady Claudia,” he said in a low voice. He took her gloved hand and brought it to his lips. Her head snapped up to meet his gaze, and she was stunned by the admiration gleaming there. “I have been thinking about you these last three days since we met.”
For some reason his words irritated Claudia. Perhaps they were too practiced, or he seemed so confident the attraction was mutual. Whatever it was, it made her more determined to carry out the plan.
She jerked her hand away before he could kiss it and held it to her chest as though she’d been stung. “Lord Kinclary! Please!”
Surprised, but not thwarted, he responded, “Please call me Cameron, and forgive me if I’ve acted too forwardly. But when you said you had come to see me—”
She gasped. “Do you believe I sought you out because I’ve been pining away for you for three days? What sort of woman do you take me for, Lord Kinclary?” She refused to address him familiarly.
He was silent as he scanned her face. “I apologize for the offense, my lady,” he said calmly. “Please tell me why you’ve come.”
Claudia was surprised he didn’t seem put out by her rejection of his advances. If he had been thinking about her for the last three days, shouldn’t he be more upset that she apparently hadn’t been doing the same?
She drew in a breath and made herself stop trying to figure out the man. “A friend of mine has been truly offended by your actions and by those of your mother. I feel I must speak out in her defense. I don’t understand the need for higher classes to snub those of lower birth, especially when this person is such a lovely, sweet girl who would never return such an offense. I mean—”
“Excuse me, my lady, but I have no idea of whom you speak,” he said, interrupting her.
Claudia had expected him to remember the situation. Was he such a blackguard that he could dismiss someone without so much as an afterthought? “I, sir, am speaking of the Duchess of Northingshire, the lady you ignored whilst your mother lashed insults upon her. It is insufferable that you could be so coldhearted as to deliberately hurt someone of such a gentle and loving character.”
“Lady Claudia!” he exclaimed in a whisper. “You have misjudged me, and as far as my mother is concerned I cannot be held accountable for what she might have said or done.”
Claudia shook her head. “But—”
“Wait.” he whispered again as he glanced about the room. She followed his gaze and saw that people were beginning to stare at them. “This is not the place to discuss this. If you will wait for me on the terrace, I will follow directly.”
She was about to say no but thought better of it. She was curious as to what he had to say, but she did not want gossip to be started about the two of them. She nodded and turned then walked out into the cool night air.
❧
As Cameron watched Lady Claudia walk away, he tried to think why she considered him to be such a malicious person. Of course she hadn’t told him what his mother had said to the duchess. Whatever had transpired, it must have been rude and cutting. He had to admire the lady, though, for defending a friend so loyally even though she herself could risk being hurt socially for it.
Cameron was more intrigued than ever by the beautiful American, and he hoped he could clear up the matter so he could begin calling on her.
After several minutes he decided enough time had passed. He stepped toward the glass doors leading to the terrace. Suddenly Aurora stood in his path.
She began speaking to him, but he was only half listening when he spotted Claudia through the windows, standing by the stone railing.
Waiting for him. Cameron smiled at those words and wondered what it would be like for her to be waiting for him at home as his wife. He scarcely knew her, but the thought of pursuing a relationship with Lady Claudia felt fitting somehow.
“. . .marry me.”
Aurora’s words sounded like a gun firing in his ears. “What did you say?” he demanded, wishing he’d paid more attention. Aurora had a way of talking him into things without his being aware he’d agreed.
Aurora sighed then curled her lips in a pout. “I’m telling you my life is in a shambles, and you are not even listening,” she said with a sniff.
His patience was already thin. “Aurora, I meant, what were you saying about someone marrying you?”
She moistened her lips and smiled weakly at him. “I said I’m having trouble finding someone to marry me. And since you are my oldest
and dearest friend I am asking you to save me from the fate my father has laid out for me.”
Cameron was appalled at the thought of having to marry Aurora. She was like a sister to him—and a sometimes annoying sister at that. “Aurora, you still have more than three weeks to find a husband. And I promise to do everything within my power to help you find one,” he assured her.
She shook her head, and her eyes filled with tears. It was because she was frightened about marrying Lord Carmichael, wasn’t it? Surely she felt about him as he did her—like a sibling?
“But if I can’t, Cameron, you must save me,” she cried softly as she reached out to clutch his arm. “Please promise me you’ll marry me if I cannot find anyone else.”
His throat tightened in panic as he stared down at Aurora. He didn’t want her to have to marry a man who’d had his share of wives; neither did he desire to sacrifice himself.
He looked away from her and let his gaze drift to the terrace.
Claudia was no longer there.
Alarmed, he tried to step around Aurora, but she stopped him. “You didn’t answer me, Cameron. Will you promise me?”
He knew she would not leave him alone until he agreed. He only prayed he could find her a husband in time. “Yes, I promise,” he said hurriedly. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”
He dashed outside without waiting for a response then walked to the far right of the terrace but discovered it was empty. He looked at the other end and saw a gate. He felt certain she must be walking in the garden, but when he reached the gate he found it locked.
Cameron peered over the railing and down at the ground several feet below him. With no other doors to go through and no way to get to the garden, he couldn’t figure out where she had gone.
And then he spotted a small piece of torn fabric wedged into the iron leaves on the top of the gate.
It was green silk.
Three
Claudia squeezed through the hedge and made her way to the street. What fun to climb over the gate and run through the Montbatten garden! It had helped alleviate some of her annoyance at watching Lord Kinclary—Cameron—flirting with Lady Aurora while he was supposed to be finishing his conversation with her.
A Gentleman's Kiss Page 2
