by Adams, Lucy
Lord Huckleby, who had been listening to this exchange with interest, now glanced behind him. “Ho!” he exclaimed, turning back to Merry and Titania. “Are you speaking of the fellow who is standing as though attempting to hide himself from everyone whilst remaining in sight?”
Titania, who thought this a very expressive way of putting it, nodded fervently. “He must be rather tall, given that I can see him quite clearly through the crowd,” she said slowly, nudging Merry. “But he is not engaging with anyone in any way. I confess I am quite intrigued!”
Lord Huckleby chuckled. “Then I must hope that I am not to be wiped from your dance card, Miss Wells!” he replied, as she smiled at him. “But I fear that once I tell you of him, you will not think him so intriguing any longer.”
“Oh?” Titania murmured, attempting to appear not as interested as she now was. “Is there something wrong?”
Lord Huckleby leaned a little closer, as if he wanted to speak in quieter tones, and even Merry was caught by his words.
“That is Viscount Carroway,” he said softly. “No one knows how he came by his title, estate, nor his fortune, for the rumor is that he was taken from an orphanage and sent to Eton by a mysterious benefactor.”
Titania blinked in surprise. “Is that so?” she murmured, astonished to hear that a gentleman such as this would have any standing in society whatsoever. “But he is titled, as you say?”
Lord Huckleby nodded. “Oh, the papers are quite correct. Most people believe that someone purchased that particular title for him and ensured that he received the correct training and education suitable for a gentleman.”
“But why would someone do such a thing?” Titania asked, knowing that her sister would remain utterly silent and would not ask a single question. “Out of some sort of loyalty?”
A grin spread across Lord Huckleby’s handsome face, his eyes glinting. “You have a quick wit indeed, Miss Wells!” he exclaimed. “That is precisely the belief. Some say that he is the illegitimate son of a duke, who—in his guilt—could not allow the child to remain in the orphanage. Therefore, he did all of this so that his son would grow up to have something of a title, although nothing close to a dukedom!” He chuckled and shook his head. “It may all be rumor, of course, but there must be a truth hidden within it somewhere, I think.”
Next to her, Merry let out a short sigh, as though everything Lord Huckleby had said was to be easily and quickly dismissed. Titania did not feel her interest die away however, clinging to each part of the story and finding herself filling with more and more questions.
“He is known to be something of a rascal when he chooses it,” Lord Huckleby finished, stepping back. “But he will not do anything such as converse with ladies of the ton, nor dance with them as he ought. In fact, he stays away from society a good deal, which is why it is rather astonishing to see him present here today.” He shrugged. “Mayhap he has decided to seek out another rich young widow for his own purposes.”
Titania’s stomach dropped to her toes at this, suddenly finding herself quite disgusted with this Lord Carroway. To be a rake was one thing, but to attempt to prey on young widows was quite another. Some of them, she was aware, would be more than a little eager to accept his attentions, whilst others would wish to remain as far from him as possible. “Surely he would not make himself so obvious and apparent as to do so here,” she commented quietly, glancing at Merry who had turned her face away in disgust. “That cannot be the case.”
Lord Huckleby lifted one eyebrow and Titania felt herself blush all over again.
“Not that I disbelieve you, of course,” she said quickly, as though she knew that he could be trusted—even after such a short acquaintance. “It just seems particularly brazen.”
“Mayhap that is the sort of gentleman he is,” Lord Huckleby suggested, with another glance in the direction of Lord Carroway. “I will say, in order to clarify my remarks, that such comments and suggestions about the fellow are nothing more than rumor. They may very well be wrong, but as I see him standing there, as I see him plotting and considering – and with the knowledge that I have about how he keeps himself from the ton, I must believe that there is something to the rumors that surround him.”
Titania nodded, finding that, even though she was a little disgusted that a gentleman should so eagerly be pursuing a widow for his own pleasures, she was somewhat intrigued by the gentleman. Her mind was whirling with questions, making her wonder which of the rumors and the whispers being spoken about Lord Carroway might be true and which might be entirely false.
“I look forward to our waltz later this evening, Miss Wells,” Lord Huckleby said with a short bow. “But now I am called to Miss Stone’s side for the cotillion. Do excuse me.”
“But of course,” Titania murmured, bobbing a quick curtsy and letting her eyes continue to follow Lord Huckleby as he walked away from them in search of his dance partner. She sighed contentedly, thinking that Lord Huckleby was both handsome, rich, and titled and should she be able to secure his courtship, then she would be indeed the luckiest young lady in all of London!
“You are being studied, Titania.”
Pulled from her thoughts, she glanced up at her sister to see her looking back at the gentleman they now knew to be Lord Carroway. Titania looked over also, only to catch Lord Carroway’s gaze and see him studying her with a deep intensity that, as the moments went on, continued to make her a little unsettled. For whatever reason, she could not look away from him.
And then, much to her surprise, Lord Carroway smiled, dropped his hands to his sides and, with a small inclination of his head towards her, turned away. Titania felt a ripple run down her spine as she watched him move away, surprised at his strange behavior. She did not know him and certainly had never been introduced to him, so why had he done such a thing?
“You have not managed to capture him then.”
Merry’s voice held a slight mocking tone.
“He has not come towards you and sought a dance,” she continued, as Titania glanced up at her sharply. “That must be very difficult for you when you are so eager to garner as much attention as possible.”
Titania lifted her chin, a spike of anger coursing through her. “I must try and help my sisters in any way I can,” she told Merry, seeing her sister frown. “For how else are you to be introduced to anyone?” And, so saying, she turned on her heel and moved away from Merry, suddenly finding the atmosphere to be a little cloying. Yes, she was looking forward to her dance with Lord Huckleby, but the strange exchange with Lord Carroway had unsettled her somewhat.
Determined that she would not allow him to spoil what was left of the evening, Titania soon found herself caught up in another gentleman’s arms as they took to the floor for the quadrille. It did not matter to her whether or not Lord Carroway paid her any attention, she told herself, smiling up into the face of one Lord Brinkley. She had Lord Huckleby’s attention and that, indeed, would be more than enough to satisfy her.
Chapter Three
“I did not expect you to attend this evening.”
Lieutenant James chuckled dryly as Edward approached. “But do you not know that Lord Mitchell and I did, at one time, fight alongside one another?” He chuckled, looking steadily back at Edward. “Upon the death of his brother, he was forced to return and take up the title and the responsibilities and the like, whereas I must continue on with my chosen profession.” He shrugged. “Although that does not mean that, upon occasion, I cannot enjoy an evening such as this!” He looked all about him, as though he had not seen as much grandeur and splendor as this before. “I was glad to be invited—for it meant that I would have the opportunity to speak to you about certain matters.”
“Oh?” Edward was surprised, having thought that his specific duties were simply to ensure that the young lady who had seen the murder and fought off the murderer would do as she had promised and remain silent about the matter. “What is it that could not wait until two days hence, when we we
re next due to meet?”
A glint appeared in Lieutenant James’s eye, and he leaned a little closer, speaking with a confidential air. “It is to do with Ravel, Carroway.”
A snake wriggled up Edward’s spine upon hearing this news.
“One of the other men in our particular service has been able to…shall we say, converse with another gentleman who works for the French,” Lieutenant James continued, looking at Edward steadily. “The information was extricated somewhat slowly, but it appears that Ravel is here solely to attempt to bring some sort of disaster to the royal family.”
“To the prince regent?” Edward stated, his eyes flaring with surprise. “I am well aware that the king himself is unwell, so what further trouble does Ravel intend to bring?”
Lieutenant James hesitated, his eyes darting away. “I cannot say that I know specifically,” he replied quietly, looking back at Edward. “But the country is already troubled by the loss of the king and the ruling of his son, and I can imagine that any further difficulties might weaken England somewhat. If trouble comes to the royal family, then men will be taken away from the fighting and sent to all manner of places within the kingdom, so that they might protect the royal family and prevent any further incidents. The strength of England could well be weakened.”
“Therefore, we must be more than careful,” Edward murmured, his mind suddenly alive with interest. “And we must find Ravel.”
“We must,” the lieutenant agreed. “But how we are to find such a man when we do not even know his face? It is, as you well know, rather difficult.”
Edward bit his lip and nodded, looking away from his lieutenant and out across the crowded floor. Ravel might be here in person and Edward would never know. Whilst he had been chasing the fellow throughout London for many months, the truth was that Edward had never clearly seen his face. Ravel was, from what he could recall, tall with dark hair – and that was all he knew of him. Aside from which, whenever Edward was close to capturing him, whenever Edward was only a fraction too late to place his hands on Ravel and take him to the lieutenant, the man had always left a small token behind
A button.
It would always be the same. A large, brown button would be left behind somewhere for Edward to find. And, should he turn it over to the back, he would find a tiny initialed ‘R’ waiting there for him, mocking him that he had not, as yet, been able to capture the illusive French spy.
“I am quite certain that he will appear as English as you or I,” he began, but the lieutenant held up one hand.
“Are you quite certain, Carroway, that this man Ravel is French?”
Edward frowned, blinking slowly, as he tried to take in what the lieutenant meant. “Are you questioning whether or not I know the truth about the spy we call Ravel?” he asked, lines burrowing into his brow.
“I am,” the lieutenant said, a trifle more loudly now as the music from the orchestra began to waft across the room. “What is it that you know of him, precisely?”
Pausing, Edward dredged up every last little bit of information he could recall. “The man known as ‘Ravel’ has been spoken of by many of the spies we have already captured,” he said firmly, seeing the lieutenant nod. “He is spoken of as being the greatest spy in all of France – except that he is now here in England. Where Ravel leads, the other spies will follow.”
“So you think him the sort of man to lead a group of spies, instead of being led by one,” the lieutenant said, his own eyes holding a glint of steel. It was clear to Edward that Lieutenant James despised Ravel and his intentions towards the royal family. “He is the one who will come up with the plan instead of allowing it to be led by another.”
“That is precisely it,” Edward agreed. “He mocks us by leaving this button of his for us to find. Right when we think we have him, he eludes us. On two occasions, I believe I have seen him, but it was in the midst of a crowd and I could not get to him.” Even now, the memories goaded him. “I will not let him get to the prince regent.” His frown lifted, as he glanced at the lieutenant. “This man that was captured. Are you quite certain that he can tell us nothing more?”
“He is dead,” the lieutenant said bluntly. “So I fear he has nothing more he can tell us.”
Edward smirked ruefully. “Then we must put all of our efforts into seeking out this fellow,” he said, seeing the lieutenant nod. “I will do as you have asked and ensure that I discover the young lady’s name and attempt to make sure that she is not a gossip nor a lover of the rumor mill. I have not, as yet, heard any whispers about a murder nor about a lady out in her night things.” He arched an eyebrow as the lieutenant shot him a quick glance. “I have begun to consider that it is in the young lady’s interests to remain silent about the incident,” he continued swiftly. “For she will not wish her reputation to be smudged, and revealing that she was out of doors, alone and unchaperoned, would surely raise questions over her character. Therefore, I have no reason to believe that she will say a word.”
The lieutenant nodded but fixed Edward with his gaze. “You must, at the very least, discover her name,” he said firmly. “That way, we will know if it is from her that any rumor stems.”
“Of course,” Edward agreed, thinking that he would not find it too difficult to recognize the young lady again. Even in the gloom of that night, he had well been able to make out her features. “I shall go and do so now. She is certain to be here, being a young lady of the ton, for this evening’s ball is a highlight of the beginning of the Season.”
The lieutenant cleared his throat and nodded, turning away to allow Edward the space to move about the guests. He looked from left to right as he moved slowly through the room, not once stopping to talk to anyone or so much as greet them. His eyes roved from one face to the next, his ears catching the trills of laughter that came from various directions. There were a great number of guests here, and to try and find one face in amongst the crowd would be a more difficult task than he had first imagined.
Perhaps you ought to remain still.
The thought was a good one and so, ensuring that he was not standing in the middle of the floor so that he would not be caught up by dancing couples, Edward remained perfectly still and let his eyes travel from left to right. It was a fairly good vantage point, being near the center of the room but to the back of it, and since he was tall, it allowed him to take in more than a shorter gentleman might have been able to.
No one caught his attention. The music started as another dance began to take place and Edward focused his mind on looking at each and every young lady in the dance. None of them were the lady in question.
A trifle frustrated, Edward let out a long breath of frustration and wondered if there was an easier way to go about this task. He could not think of anything other than returning to the street where he had first come upon the lady. That would not, however, give him the name of the lady who resided within, not unless he wished to rap loudly on the door and demand that he be told the names of all who lived there. Most likely, he would be thrown from the house! No, he could not even imagine doing such a thing.
Sighing heavily to himself, Edward heard the loud voice of one Lord Huckleby coming towards him. Groaning inwardly, he allowed his gaze to travel towards the gentleman, seeing him bowing to two ladies. The first had dark hair and the second had a cascading pile of reddish bronze curls running down her back. He could not easily make out their faces and found himself turning his eyes away from Lord Huckleby. He did not much care for the fellow, although he considered the man to be an acquaintance. The gentleman was loud and a little brash for Edward’s liking, as though he fully intended to make as much use of his title, fortune, and wit as he could. Every young lady of the ton was eager for his attentions, it seemed, and he was more than happy to share them. The way the beau monde hung onto his every word was deeply frustrating for Edward, thinking that Lord Huckleby was everything Edward despised about London society.
Turning his head, Edward fixed his gaze
elsewhere and forced his mind back to his current task. He meant to find the young lady from that evening some days ago. That was all he need do. He did not need to consider Lord Huckleby nor his own dislike for the ton. All he needed to do was find her.
However, for whatever reason, Edward found himself almost desperate to glance back in that particular direction. He had no reason to do so, particularly when he disliked the fellow so, but perhaps it came from an urge to see what young ladies the man had caught this time, or perhaps a jealousy that Lord Huckleby could manage to garner so much attention without so much as batting an eye. Regardless, Edward turned his head to satisfy his own curiosity, only to see the redhaired young lady’s profile come into view.
Something jolted within him. Something that told him that this young lady was the one he was seeking.
Turn your head a little more, he whispered inwardly, urging her silently to turn around so that he might see her face. Show me whether or not I have found the answer to my searching.
He saw the other young lady say something to the redheaded one and, after a moment, she turned to face him.
Edward’s heart forgot how to beat. He stood there, frozen in place, staring into the face of one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever laid eyes on. It was, of course, the young lady he had seen that night, the young lady he had been forced to lay down on the doorstep and hurry away from, but he had not remembered her to be so overwhelmingly lovely. Her oval face was alive with interest, her eyes fixed on his – and Edward found himself longing to know what color her eyes were. Her lips were slightly parted, as though she was surprised by his gaze, and a faint bloom of color was rising in her cheeks.
He could barely breathe at the sight of her.
At least you know what you must do now, he told himself. You must discover her name, and no doubt, a good many gentlemen will wish to become acquainted with a beauty such as she.
