Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02]

by Second Chances

  Wrexham's grip on her hand relaxed slightly as he stifled a chuckle. "I don't," he admitted. "That is part of the reason I am quite content to stay in Yorkshire."

  Allegra regarded him thoughtfully. "Only part? What are some of the other reasons? For surely you have more opportunity for socializing here in town. I have seen the way any number of ladies follow your every move."

  "Like predators," he said roughly. "They have only one thing in mind, and as I have told you, I have no interest in remarrying."

  "Yes, you have made that very clear." She was silent for a moment. "Well, you will hear no argument from me on that score. It seems to me that the state of matrimony is highly overrated."

  He should have been gratified by her words, but somehow, they only caused his mood to grow even darker. They spoke very little for the rest of the dance, and after relinquishing his spot to a florid-looking young man with ginger side whiskers, he went in search of Bingham and suggested they leave the ball for the comforts of White's and a bottle of brandy.

  It was quite late when the two of them repaired to the earl's library for one last libation. Bingham gave an amused chuckle as he strolled to the fire and stirred the logs to life.

  "You know," he said, suddenly steering the conversation away from politics and the latest doings of the Prince Regent. "It appears that Allegra has won herself quite a bevy of suitors. Why, Blackthorn just hinted to me tonight that he was on the verge of making an offer—and he's nearly as plump in the pocket as you are."

  Wrexham picked up the nearest thing at hand, a small leatherbound volume of essays that lay half open on his desk, and hurled it against the wall. "Damnation, Edmund," he snarled. "Enough about Allegra!"

  Bingham stared at the broken binding then at his friend's rigid features. "I'm sorry, Leo," he said quietly.

  Wrexham slumped into one of the comfortable leather wingchairs near the fire and raked his hand through his hair. "Forgive me. I... I fear I have not been myself lately. I don't usually give rein to my temper in such a childish manner."

  Bingham poured them both a brandy. He handed a glass to the earl, then took a seat opposite him and remained silent for a time as he swirled the amber spirits in his own snifter. "That bad, is it?" he finally asked.

  Wrexham made a wry grimace. "The devil take it, I've never met anyone quite like her. I can actually talk to her about things that interest me and get more than just a blank stare." He gave a harried chuckle. "Why, more than likely, she will know more about the subject than I, or at least think she does. Confound it, I even enjoy arguing with her." He let out his breath in a deep sigh and gazed moodily into the flickering flames before he went on. "And her intellect is matched by her kindness and compassion. When Max was hurt, she cared for him as if... he were her own child."

  There was a slight pause. "She is courageous as well, and resourceful—and so damnably attractive I can scarce keep my hands off her." Again his fingers tugged through his tumbled locks. "Good Lord," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "If Max hadn't come downstairs to the library on the night before we left for London, I would have...." A look of self loathing crept over his face.

  Bingham regarded him with sympathy. "Don't rake yourself over the coals about it, Leo. I feel sure Allegra would be entirely capable of discouraging any unwanted advances—I take it she didn't take a poker to your head."

  "Not exactly," he mumbled, closing his eyes briefly at the memory of her torrid response to his kisses and the way her fingers had traced the line of his jaw.

  Bingham allowed himself a slight smile. "So what the devil is stopping you? You have no need to seek a match for any reason but your own feelings, my friend. And you needn't worry on Max's account. He adores her."

  Wrexham's head jerked up. "A match? You know I never mean to marry again."

  Bingham took a long sip of his brandy before answering. "Don't be a bloody fool, Leo. She is nothing like Suzanna. Why, if I didn't have to replenish the family coffers, I might even try to cut you out myself." Ignoring the earl's astonished expression, he stood up and set his glass on the table. "She is a singular woman. Don't let one mistake cause you make an even bigger one. And now, I think it's time to take myself off. Good night."

  He was out of the door before Wrexham could find his tongue.

  * * *

  It was easy to understand how one could become very used to this way of life, thought Allegra as she surveyed yet another ballroom filled with the glitter of lights, the rustle of silk, the heady perfume of fresh cut flowers and the echoes of clinking crystal, gay laughter and a lilting Viennese waltz. It was... seductive. Yes, that was the word. It was tempting to become self-absorbed, to think only of pretty things and the evening's pleasure rather than real ideas and complex feelings.

  Could it happen to her, she wondered, as her hand smoothed the skirt of her expensive silk gown and then fingered the small fortune in gems encircling her throat? Of course, marriage would be her only entree into this world of privilege, once the charade was over, so it would mean she would have to trade her independence for such a life of pampered security, a life of never having to worry about a roof over her head or how to support herself, a life with—children, perhaps. It would be arrogant in the extreme to imagine she was above temptation—what person was?

  But when she considered whether she would rather read a book full of provocative ideas or sit down to breakfast with a man whom she couldn't share her excitement, her fears, her outrage her laughter, she gave a rueful smile and knew she was safe.

  Yet it was not as if there were no admirable people among the wealthy and titled. She had to admit that her original beliefs as been as wrong as any other prejudice. The ton was no different than any other part of society—there was good and evil, intelligence and ignorance, kindness and cruelty. She had met more than a few gentlemen who not only held quite thoughtful views but did not look horrified when she expressed an opinion of her own. And there were some ladies of recent acquaintance who had given hint of interests beyond embroidery and the pianoforte, and others whose sharp observations and keen sense of humor had made her wish to know them better. In short, it would not be impossible to have real friends here...

  "You appear rather thoughtful tonight."

  Allegra was jerked out of her reverie by the sound of Lord Bingham's voice. He handed her a glass of ratafia punch. "Would you care to share what is bringing such an enigmatic expression to your lips?"

  She took a sip from her glass. "I was merely thinking on how... quixotic life is."

  He looked at her as if he expected her to go on. When she didn't, a ghost of a smile crept to his lips as well. "Ah, but that is what keeps it so interesting."

  Allegra gave a little laugh. "That is one way of looking at it."

  They stood together in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Bingham spoke again. "You are moved into your townhouse?"

  "Yes, a few days ago." Her eyes filled with humor. "It is quite a novel experience, to be head of a household, with servants to order around at will—I fear I had better not get used to it!"

  "Hmmm." He gave her an odd look, then quickly went on. "So everything is in readiness?"

  She nodded. "Sandhill is here and I am engaged to stand up with him just before the supper dance. The trap shall be set then, and if all goes according to plan, it will snap shut tomorrow night."

  Bingham raised his glass. "Well then.... to everything turning out as it should."

  * * *

  A short while later, Sandhill bowed low over Allegra's hand. "Ah, Mrs. Ranley, you are looking particularly well tonight." His eyes were locked not on her face, but on the glittering sunburst pendant of sapphires and diamonds that hung from a thick choker of pearls around her throat.

  She had steeled herself to accept his touch without flinching but it was still an effort to force a smile. However she took some small satisfaction in having him pay his effusive compliments, unaware that she was the plain parson's daughter he
had passed on many occasions with nary a second glance. As she had often noted, most people saw only what they chose.

  "How kind of you, Lord Sandhill," she replied with a graceful incline of her head. "Quite a crush tonight, is it not?" she added, stating the obvious.

  "Lady Kensington has a reputation as a splendid hostess." He gave a broad wink. "And his lordship's cellars are held in equally high regard."

  She gave a little titter. "Oh, you gentlemen are so sly. So, is that the only reason you have made an appearance?"

  "That, and of course the opportunity to dance with you."

  Allegra forced herself to appear well-pleased at his heavy handed flattery. "Well, I am very glad that you are here, for I wish to ask a gentleman's advice on something and my cousin has been too busy for me to seek him out."

  "I am only too happy to be of assistance, Mrs. Ranley. Perhaps we should sit out this set and you may explain your problem to me."

  Her eyelashes dropped demurely. "You are sure you don't mind?"

  He offered her his arm and led her to a small settee next to a towering arrangement of tuber roses and lacy ferns. She made a show of smoothing her voluminous skirts, then folded her gloved hands in her lap before beginning. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that she had his undivided attention.

  "As you know, I am unused to the habits of London servants since my dear husband chose not to partake of the Season," she began, taking a moment to heave a lugubrious sigh. "And now that I am recently established in my own townhouse, I wish to convey exactly the right tone as an employer. That is, I wish to be seen as both generous and yet not weak, so that they may not be tempted to take advantage of me."

  Sandhill's expression betrayed that he was fast losing interest in such a mundane problem, so she hurried on.

  "My cousins have invited me to a picnic supper and fireworks in Covent Gardens tomorrow evening. As it promises to be a very late night, I may simply stay with Olivia rather than return to my own abode. The question is, should I give my servants the evening off as a gesture of good will?"

  His eyes narrowed very slightly as he appeared to give the matter considerable thought. "An excellent idea, Mrs. Ransley," he replied. "By all means, do as you say. I believe it would be just the right touch. One must be strict, but servants will work harder if they know they will receive an occasional unexpected reward."

  Allegra let out a relieved sigh. "I am so glad you think so." Her hand moved up to toy with her necklace. "I have been in a tizzy trying to make up my mind, and now you have made up my mind for me—oh, goodness!"

  "Is something wrong?"

  "The catch on my necklace—I hadn't realized it was so loose. I must have it sent off to be repaired." She leaned towards him and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You mustn't tattle on me, but I am such a peagoose when it comes to practical things. I'm afraid I am always putting off what should be done, or forgetting it altogether. Why, I know I am supposed to keep my trinkets in a bank vault, but just never get around to it. I know my late husband's man of affairs would be furious if he knew I simply kept them in my dressing table. Butt seems like such a bother to be constantly running back and forth, and I do so like to wear them."

  Sandhill patted her arm as a slow smile spread over his face. "Don't worry in the least, my dear Mrs. Ransley. Your little secret is safe with me."

  * * *

  All heads turned as Allegra entered the library the next morning.

  Unable to contain himself any longer, it was Bingham who spoke first. "Well? Did everything go smoothly?"

  "For God's sake, Edmund, let her at least sit down first before you ply her with questions," snapped Wrexham. He hadn't failed to notice the dark smudges under her eyes and the tightness around her mouth.

  "Yes, I am quite sure he has fallen for it." She took a seat near the fire and gratefully accepted the cup of steaming tea that Lady Alston offered. "There is no doubt in my mind that he and his son will be there tonight."

  "But you seem... nervous, Mrs. Proctor," said Max slowly, as he watched the cup shake slightly on its way to her lips.

  "I suppose I am a bit on edge," she admitted. "Though it is not the sort of nervousness you mean. It's just that, well, I have thought of this moment for so long and now, one way or another, it all will be over shortly. It seems... almost unreal."

  "It will be very real when the Runners clap those two scoundrels in irons and drag them off to the gaol," growled Wrexham. "Bingham and I shall see to that. You may rest easy that your role is done. You will be on your way to Covent Gardens when we spring the trap."

  Bingham began to pace the room. "Is everyone very clear on what the plan is tonight? We wouldn't want any last minute mistakes to scare Sandhill and son off."

  All heads nodded.

  "Still, it cannot hurt to go over it once again. Max?"

  "I am to impersonate Father and escort Aunt Olivia into our carriage at nine-thirty sharp. Then we will stop at Mrs. Proctor's townhouse and I will escort her into the carriage as well, so that anyone observing us will see the evening proceeding exactly as Mrs. Proctor described. We are to drive off in the direction of Covent Gardens, and travel for at least twenty minutes, in case anyone is observing our actions. Then we are to double back and go to Lord Bingham's rooms to await word from you."

  "Very good. Leo, you will be stationed in the garden, for that is by far the most likely spot they will break in. I will be a street away with the Runners—"

  "Why is Leo alone?" demanded Allegra. "It is too dangerous—"

  "I'm afraid it can't be helped," said Bingham. "There is too great a risk they would notice more than one person trying to hide in that small space. And it is I that have a friend at Bow Street so I must stay with them."

  "I shall be well-armed, and at the arranged signal, Edmund and the Runners will be on the scene in a matter of minutes," said Wrexham in a low voice. "There is nothing to be concerned about."

  Allegra bit her lip but said nothing further.

  "Any other questions?"

  None of them spoke.

  "Well then, there is nothing more to do than wait."

  * * *

  Lady Alston adjusted the silk shawl over her shoulders one last time. The clock on the mantel of began to chime the half hour as she picked up her reticule from the tufted sidechair and hurried into the entrance hall. She turned at the sound of footsteps behind her.

  "Really, Max, you needn't go to quite that length to obscure your features—from a distance you look near enough like your father without having to disguise yourself like a highwayman."

  A muffled sound came through the thick scarf wrapped nearly up to the eyes. Eyes that were not at all the steely blue of her nephew's, but rather a deep hazel.

  "Max?" She peered closer, then uttered a word that neither her brother nor her husband would have guessed she knew. "Is that you, Robert?"

  The young under footman's eyes grew even wider at the sound of the oath. "Y... es, Your Ladyship," he stammered, falling back a step or two. "Master Max said I was to assist you tonight—we have practiced and I am sure I can do it without a mistake. He also said I was to tell you not to worry and... " The scarf had slipped down to reveal a slightly trembling lower lip. "...and—you are not going to turn me out, are you?"

  Lady's Alston's expression softened considerably. "No, Robert, of course I am not going to turn you out—though I should dearly love to get my hands on my nephew right now!" Her lips pressed together as the clock fell silent. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on the young man's arm. "Come, we must be on our way."

  A short while later, the carriage rolled to a halt in Mount Street and a tall, elegantly dressed gentleman emerged and mounted the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. The door opened at the first sound of the heavy brass knocker and Allegra appeared silhouetted in the muted light of the entrance hall.

  "Thank you, Knowles. I shall be staying with my cousins, so you and the rest of the staff
may have the evening off," she said a trifle loudly.

  The butler bowed low in thanks as she took the gentleman's proffered arm and descended to the waiting vehicle.

  "Where is Max?" she demanded as soon as the door shut and horses began to move forward.

  Lady Alston shook her head. She turned to regard the cringing young man on the opposite seat.

  "I... I don't know, my lady. Truly I don't."

  Allegra look out an exasperated sigh. "I might have known something like this would happen. Max has been chafing for days at being excluded from taking an active part because of his age."

  "Well, there is nothing to do for it now," said Lady Alston grimly. "Let us hope he does not do something foolish."

  Allegra threw herself back against the squabs and stared at the curtained window. Suddenly she turned to the under footman. "Give me your walking stick."

  The startled young man complied without hesitation.

  "What do you—" began Lady Alston as Allegra rapped on the trap. "Allegra! I don't think..."

  "Leo must be warned," she said as the carriage pulled to halt near the corner of one of the quiet side streets. "You must continue on, as planned." Her mouth thinned into a tight smile. "Don't worry—I have a bit of practice in skulking around, remember? Everything will be fine."

  Then she opened the door and slid out into the darkness.

  Chapter 13

  She pressed up against the ivy-covered bricks and pulled her cloak tighter, grateful that she had thought to choose one of a dark hue. Her eyes searched the shadows but there didn't appear to be any sign of movement. It had only been dark for a short while and no doubt Sandhill and his son would wait to be sure the servants had all departed or were safely tucked away in their beds before attempting to enter the townhouse.