Barbara Metzger (6 page)

“Dree? Miss Audrina?” At her nod he spoke his frustration at finding himself in a backwater with an awkward handful. “She can’t always be around to entertain your dance partners, you know.”

Those china-doll blue eyes glimmered. Tears? Good grief, Max thought, the chit was going to cry, right there in the assembly rooms. He knew without looking that the cousin would be shooting him dagger looks. Devil take managing females! He renewed his efforts with Miss Martin, fabricating a childhood as a shy, stuttering boy who hated being out among strangers. Miss Martin was actually smiling at his Banbury tale by the time Thatcher brought Miss Rowe back.

Dree flashed the earl a radiant smile to see her cousin looking so comfortable. She was right: they were a perfect pair. Her self-congratulations ended as the earl handed Carinne to Lord Podell for the next dance. There was no way Dree could prevent that dance, not without causing a scene that might give the earl a disgust of them altogether. Her smile faded even more when Lord Blanford turned to her again.

“Perhaps you’ll take pity and sit out this set with a poor veteran, Miss Rowe, while your cousin does my friend the honor of dancing?” Max tried not to smirk, wondering how Miss Rowe appreciated being outflanked.

She didn’t like it at all. “It’s a pity indeed about your injury. How fortunate it doesn’t interfere with your neck-or-nothing riding.”

Max only smiled at the sarcasm, trying to remember to limp when he brought her a lemonade. She glared at him over the cup. What had the volatile chit in the boughs now? he wondered. She had the most eligible man in the room fetching her drink, and all she could do was glower. Her ill temper wasn’t directed at him, Max belatedly realized, but at her peahen of a cousin
who was gliding serenely on Franny’s arm, smiling into the eyes of her handsome partner without a hint of awkwardness. Franny was grinning back, relieved he didn’t have to make conversation. Together they were a fairytale couple, and Miss Rowe was acting the evil stepsister.

“Bedfordshire is surprisingly full of charming young ladies,” Max ventured, although why he thought to turn the vixen up sweet, he didn’t know, except for a wish to see that carefree delight she’d shown the farmer.

Lukewarm and trite as it was, Max’s compliment did restore Audrina’s good humor. He’d been caught! Dree had to clutch her hands together to keep from clapping. “My cousin, you mean. Isn’t Carrie the most beautiful girl in the world? And she’s as good and kind as she is pretty. I just knew you’d like her if you got the chance to know her.”

And Miss Rowe went on extolling her cousin’s talents and traits, with a dazzling smile lighting up her face. The freckles that would sink a London deb’s chances seemed to belong with that radiant glow, Max thought, like sunshine. She even had dimples. Max listened to her happy babble with half an ear while he admired the view, until her words and intent finally sunk in. Miss Audrina Rowe was matchmaking on her beautiful, wealthy cousin’s behalf! He was astounded again at her unselfishness, and then he was chagrined. The vicar’s daughter, a frumpy, flyaway little female, wasn’t interested in the Earl of Blanford—except as a
parti
for her relation! And for this he was wearing the clippings from a shorn poodle?

Chapter Six

Gordon, Lord Halbersham, wasn’t having any better time of it. He took up a position near Max’s pillar after Miss Rowe skipped away on the arm of another bucolic beau. From there the viscount could watch his wife flirt with every man in the room from the septuagenarian squire to some spotted youth. Whilst Gordie listened to Viola tittering at some remark from an ill-clad countryman, Max listened to Gordie’s teeth grinding. Fine, Max thought, he’d lose his hair, Gordie’d lose his choppers.

“Deuce take it, man, don’t just stand there. Take the chit home and make her forget that any other man exists on this earth.”

“You mean…?”

“Yes, you clothhead, that’s precisely what I mean. Go now before you can only gum at her earlobes. You can send the carriage back for Franny and me. We’ll see the Peckham sisters home.”

“What will I tell Viola to get her to leave so early?”

“You’re the diplomat, Gordie. You can think of some reason. Or tell her you have the headache. Women use that excuse all the time.”

“Only because they can’t claim war wounds,” Gordie said with a wink as he moved off to cross the dance floor. He tapped his wife’s partner on the shoulder and whispered something in Viola’s ear that brought an instant blush to her cheeks. Max shook his head. For a politician, Halbersham had no subtlety. But Vi did agree to leave, so perhaps Gordon knew best after all. Who was Max to give advice about women, after tonight’s fiasco?

Without Viola to choose his partners, Lord Podell was soon sharing Max’s post instead of Halbersham. Together they watched the rest of the assembly.

“Did you meet all the females on Vi’s list?” Max asked.

“Enough,” Franny replied, grinning hugely. “Ain’t she exquisite?”

There was no need to ask which
she
Franny meant. “A diamond of the first water indeed, but—”

“No buts. She’s the one.”

“How can you be sure? It’s early days, man. You’ve only had one dance with the chit, and not a lot of conversation at that, I’d guess.” He’d swear, in fact, that Miss Martin didn’t have two bits of conversation to rub together.

Franny rocked on his heels, looking like the cat that got the canary. “A chap just knows. Miss Carinne is quiet, peaceful-like. She came right out and told me she didn’t expect a fellow to keep thinking up things to say. You know, that humgudgeon the poetic types are always spouting at a pretty gal. Embarrass her, she said. Would embarrass me to say it. We suit.”

“I still say it’s early days to be calling the banns. You haven’t met her father yet. I hear he’s a rum go.”

“According to Viola, all he cares about is snabbling a title and getting his daughter accepted in London society. You know I’ve got the entree everywhere.”

Max thought of that tongue-tied chit in the midst of Almack’s patronesses. Might as well feed her to the
lions at the Tower. “Do you think Miss Martin would like London? You said yourself she’s quiet.”

“And you said I should marry a rich girl and install her at m’country place. But I’ve half a mind to take Miss Martin to London anyway. Show her off, don’t you know. She’ll like the shops and the theater. And if she don’t talk to anyone else, well, at least I won’t have to worry myself to flinders like poor Gordon.” Franny twirled his quizzing glass on its ribbon, satisfied. Then he raised it to his eye to examine Max more closely. “I say, you ain’t trying to discourage me because you’re interested yourself, are you? Beautiful girl and an heiress. I couldn’t blame you.”

“No, no, I’ve no intention of trying to cut you out with Miss Martin. I just think you should get to know her better before making such a momentous decision.”

Franny didn’t hear anything but the denial. “Good. Her father’d toss me on my ear if he thought you were in the running. Stands to reason. Any father would. Mean to say, don’t have much to offer. But I’ll swear to make her happy. Mean it, too. That should win him over.”

Not from what Max had heard about Augustus Martin. “Lud, just don’t go plead your case too soon or he’ll think you’re a Bedlamite, or a fortune hunter. Once you get to know the chit, then you can swear undying devotion, not yet.”

Franny sucked on the handle of the looking glass. “How long? Mean to say, all these other chaps won’t let such a jewel go unclaimed. Do you think a week’s enough time to convince Mr. Martin I’m sincere about Miss Carinne?”

“Wait a month at least. Then, once you know her better, you can put your luck to the test if you’re of the same mind.”

“Two weeks. And I will be.”

* * *

Audrina was right: the party from Briarwoods did not attend services at her father’s church the next morning, but not because the Halbershams felt themselves too grand for the humble village chapel. They overslept. Then they had to bundle their guests into carriages for the ride to Upper Throckton for the late service. After church the viscount and his lady disappeared upstairs again, which had the Peckham sisters tittering and Viola’s brother Warden snickering over his mutton until Max fixed him with a stare.

“You’ll have to take over as host for your brother-in-law this afternoon. Lord Podell and I have to make a call at Mr. Martin’s White Oaks.”

Franny had still felt the same the next morning. He was all for riding out to visit, to see if Miss Martin could be as lovely by daylight, until Max reminded him it was Sunday. He would have to wait till late afternoon, at least.

“You’ll come along, won’t you, Max? Mean to say, you know how to go on.”

Max rather thought he would accompany Franny, and not only to oversee the other’s courtship. Warden thought he might accompany them, too. “What, and leave our two charming fellow guests alone?”

Warden groaned. His Greek studies weren’t half as boring as those two haughty Peckham females. “But I’d like to quiz Miss Rowe about her knowledge of the classics. With her father the vicar, and him giving lessons, perhaps she’d—”

“No,” Max snapped. Warden had youth and hair. He didn’t need the company of the only interesting female in the neighborhood.

*

The interesting female was shredding a roll. Uncle Augustus was taking his midday meal with associates in Throckton, so the two cousins had the dining room to themselves. Carinne wasn’t eating her luncheon either, but instead of fretting, Miss Martin was staring dreamily into space, her lips gently curved. Almost like an angel getting her first glimpse of heaven, Dree thought impatiently. “What do you mean, you prefer Lord Podell? I grant you, the man is as handsome as a Greek god, but truly, Carrie, how can you? He’s naught but a man-milliner.”

“So elegant, such a sense of style. And kind.”

“Kind? The man is a fortune hunter! Why, you’d never know if he cared for you or for your father’s gold.”

“I’d never know with any man, but Lord Podell seemed to like me.”

“Perhaps he was just being polite. We might never see any of the Briarwoods party again. They didn’t attend church.” And Carinne could be awkward at times, Dree had to admit. Such a distinguished gentleman as the Earl of Blanford was used to more sophisticated company.

“He’ll come.” Carinne was positive. And pleased.

“But a Bond Street strutter, Carrie? You know you never wanted to go to London.”

“I never wanted a Season, rather. I’d enjoy the shops and seeing the sights. And you were the one who tried to convince me to go, for the cultural advantages. Besides, Lord Podell means to make his property in Warwick his home for most of the year.”

“What, that starched and curled dandy means to set up as a farmer?”

“He intends to try to bring his estates back into prosperity.”

“He means to reclaim his acreage with your money, you mean.”

“I’d rather that than see Lord Prendergast gamble it all away, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything is better than Lord Prendergast,” Audrina conceded, finally taking a bite of her capon. She waited till the footman brought the dessert pudding before she tried again. “Don’t you think you might consider Lord
Blanford?” She pictured the earl, tall and broad, with an air of command about him. He was strong, confident, capable. In short, everything manly. Dree knew her own experience of men was woefully short, but didn’t doubt for a minute that his lordship would stand out in any gathering, noblemen or otherwise. “He’s quick-witted and amusing, too.”

“He frightens me.”

“Spiders frighten you, goose. Do say you’ll try to be friendly, if he should pay his addresses.”

Carinne dropped her spoon. “Oh, I pray he won’t! Papa will be sure to prefer him to Lord Podell.”

And for once Audrina would agree with Uncle Augustus, but she’d keep her own counsel for now.

Miss Rowe might have kept a silent tongue in her mouth, but her actions spoke volumes—to Lord Blanford, at least—when he and Franny were shown into the ornately furnished drawing room that afternoon. Audrina jumped up and rang for tea after the initial greetings, and then tugged at Lord Podell’s arm until he joined her on the crocodile-legged sofa, leaving Max to sit next to Miss Martin on the facing couch.

The others were oblivious to the machinations, however. After examining his saffron satin sleeve for hints of creases, Franny stared across the space into Miss Martin’s eyes. She stared back, a tinge of rose on her creamy cheeks. The two could have been alone on the moon for all the attention they paid Dree and the earl. And they did look wondrous together, Dree had to admit, his lordship like a jonquil, and Carrie in a pale rose muslin that showed off her rounded form and elegant shoulders. A veritable garden of beauty.

Audrina frowned. Max grinned, as though he could read her thoughts, earning him another fierce look for not trying harder to engage her cousin in conversation. Dree couldn’t fault the earl’s appearance, in navy blue superfine and dove gray pantaloons. That was how a man ought to dress, she firmly believed. How could
Carrie not even glance in his direction? It was all Dree could do to keep from staring at the earl’s firm legs, so well fitted were his trousers. And that devilish grin, lopsided and boyish, with warm brown eyes that had a definite twinkle; how could Carrie ignore him?