Four In Hand (6 page)

The sounds of arrival gradually filtered into the drawing-room. Max raised his head. A spurt of feminine chatter drifted clearly to their ears. Almost immediately, silence was restored. Then, the door opened and Millwade, the new butler, entered to announce, “Miss Twinning.”

Caroline walked through the door and advanced into the room, her sunny confidence cloaking her like bright sunshine. Max, who had risen, blinked and then strolled forward to take her hand. He bowed over it, smiling with conscious charm into her large eyes.

Caroline returned the smile, thoroughly conversant with its promise. While he was their guardian, she could afford to play his games. His strong fingers retained their clasp on her hand as he drew her forward to meet his aunt.

Augusta Benborough’s mouth had fallen open at first sight of her eldest charge. But by the time Caroline faced her, she had recovered her composure. No wonder Max had said she would need no help. Great heavens! The girl was…well, no sense in beating about the bush—she was devilishly attractive. Sensually so. Responding automatically to the introduction, Augusta recognised the amused comprehension in the large and friendly grey eyes. Imperceptibly, she relaxed.

“Your sisters?” asked Max.

“I left them in the hall. I thought perhaps…” Caroline’s words died on her lips as Max moved to the bell pull. Before she could gather her wits, Millwade was in the room, receiving his instructions. Bowing to the inevitable, Caroline closed her lips on her unspoken excuses. As she turned to Lady Benborough, her ladyship’s brows rose in mute question. Caroline smiled and, with a swish of her delicate skirts, sat beside Lady Benborough. “Just watch,” she whispered, her eyes dancing.

Augusta Benborough regarded her thoughtfully, then turned her attention to the door. As she did so, it opened again. First Sarah, then Arabella, then Lizzie Twinning entered the room.

A curious hiatus ensued as both Max Rotherbridge and his aunt, with more than fifty years of town bronze between them, started in patent disbelief at their charges. The three girls stood unselfconsciously,poised and confident, and then swept curtsies, first to Max, then to her ladyship.

Caroline beckoned and they moved forward to be presented, to a speechless Max, who had not moved from his position beside his chair, and then to a flabbergasted Lady Benborough.

As they moved past him to make their curtsy to his aunt, Max recovered the use of his faculties. He closed his eyes. But when he opened them again, they were still there. He was not hallucinating. There they were: three of the loveliest lovelies he had ever set eyes on—four if you counted Miss Twinning. They were scene-stealers, every one—the sort of young women whose appearance suspended conversations, whose passage engendered rampant curiosity, aside from other, less nameable emotions, and whose departure left onlookers wondering what on earth they had been talking about before. All from the same stable, all under one roof. Nominally his. Incredible. And then the enormity, the mind-numbing, all-encompassing reality of his inheritance struck him. One glance into Miss Twinning’s grey eyes, brimming with mirth, told him she understood more than enough. His voice, lacking its customary strength and in a very odd register, came to his ears. “Impossible!”

His aunt Augusta collapsed laughing.

“No!” Max shook his head stubbornly, a frown of quite dramatic proportions darkening his handsome face.

Lady Benborough sighed mightily and frowned back. On recovering her wits, she had sternly repressed her mirth and sent the three younger Twinnings into the courtyard. But after ten minutes of carefully reasoned argument, Max remained adamant. However, she was quite determined her scapegrace nephew would not succeed in dodging his responsibilities. Aside from anything else, the situation seemed set to afford her hours of entertainment and, at her age, such opportunities could not be lightly passed by. Her lips compressed into a thin line and a martial light appeared in her blue eyes.

Max, recognising the signs, got in first. “It’s impossible! Just
think
of the talk!”

Augusta’s eyes widened to their fullest extent “Why should you care?” she asked. “Your career to date would hardly lead one to suppose you fought shy of scandal.” She fixed Max with a penetrating stare. “Besides, while there’ll no doubt be talk, none of it will harm anyone. Quite the opposite. It’ll get these girls into the limelight!”

The black frown on Max’s face did not lighten.

Caroline wisely refrained from interfering between the two principal protagonists, but sat beside Augusta, looking as innocent as she could. Max’s gaze swept over her and stopped on her face. His eyes narrowed. Caroline calmly returned his scrutiny.

There was little doubt in Max’s mind that Caroline Twinning had deliberately concealed from him the truth about her sisters until he had gone too far in establishing himself as their guardian to pull back. He felt sure some retribution was owing to one who had so manipulated him but, staring into her large grey-green eyes, was unable to decide which of the numerous and varied punishments his fertile imagination supplied would be the most suitable. Instead, he said, in the tones of one goaded beyond endurance, “ ‘Commonly held to be well to pass’, indeed!”

Caroline smiled.

Augusta intervened. “Whatever you’re thinking of, Max, it won’t do! You’re the girls’ guardian—you told me so yourself. You cannot simply wash your hands of them. I can see it’ll be a trifle awkward for you,” her eyes glazed as she thought of Lady Mortland, “but if you don’t concern yourself with them, who will?”

Despite his violent response to his first sight of all four Twinning sisters, perfectly understandable in the circumstances, Max had not seriously considered giving up his guardianship of them. His behaviour over the past ten minutes had been more in the nature of an emotional rearguard action in an attempt, which his rational brain acknowledged as futile, to resist the tide of change he could see rising up to swamp his hitherto well-ordered existence. He fired his last shot. “Do you seriously imagine that someone with my reputation will be considered a suitable guardian for four…?” He paused, his eyes on Caroline, any number of highly apt descriptions revolving in his head. “Excessively attractive virgins?” he concluded savagely.

Caroline’s eyes widened and her dimple appeared.

“On the contrary!” Augusta answered. “Who better than you to act as their guardian? Odds are you know every ploy ever invented and a few more besides. And if you can’t keep the wolves at bay, then no one can. I really don’t know why you’re creating all this fuss.”

Max did not know either. After a moment of silence, he turned abruptly and crossed to the windows giving on to the courtyard. He had known from the outset that this was one battle he was destined to lose. Yet some part of his mind kept suggesting in panic-stricken accents that there must be some other way. He watched as the three younger girls—his wards, heaven forbid!—examined the fountain, prodding and poking in an effort to find the lever to turn it on. They were a breathtaking sight, the varied hues of their shining hair vying with the flowers, their husky laughter and the unconsciously seductive way their supple figures swayed this way and that causing him to groan inwardly. Up to the point when he had first sighted them, the three younger Twinnings had figured in his plans as largely irrelevant entities, easily swept into the background and of no possible consequence to his plans for their elder sister. One glimpse had been enough to scuttle that scenario. He was trapped—a guardian in very truth. And with what the Twinning girls had to offer he would have no choice but to play the role to the hilt. Every man in London with eyes would be after them!

Lady Benborough eyed Max’s unyielding back with a frown. Then she turned to the woman beside her. She had already formed a high opinion of Miss Twinning. What was even more to the point, being considerably more than seven, Augusta had also perceived that her reprehensible nephew was far from indifferent to the luscious beauty. Meeting the grey-green eyes, her ladyship raised her brows. Caroline nodded and rose.

Max turned as Caroline laid her hand on his arm. She was watching her sisters, not him. Her voice, when she spoke, was tactfully low. “If it would truly bother you to stand as our guardian, I’m sure we could make some other arrangement.” As she finished speaking, she raised her eyes to his.

Accustomed to every feminine wile known to woman, Max nevertheless could see nothing in the lucent grey eyes to tell him whether the offer was a bluff or not. But it only took a moment to realise that if he won this particular argument, if he succeeded in withdrawing as guardian to the Twinning sisters, Caroline Twinning would be largely removed from his orbit. Which would certainly make his seduction of her more difficult, if not impossible. Faced with those large grey-green eyes, Max did what none of the habitues of Gentleman Jackson’s boxing salon had yet seen him do. He threw in the towel.

Having resigned himself to the inevitable, Max departed, leaving the ladies to become better acquainted. As the street door closed behind him, Lady Benborough turned a speculative glance on Caroline. Her lips twitched. “Very well done, my dear. Clearly you need no lessons in how to manage a man.”

Caroline’s smile widened. “I’ve had some experience, I’ll admit.”

“Well, you’ll need it all if you’re going to tackle my nephew.” Augusta grinned in anticipation. From where she sat, her world looked rosy indeed. Not only did she have four rich beauties to fire off, and unlimited funds to do it with, but, glory of glories, for the first time since he had emerged from short coats her reprehensible nephew was behaving in a less than predictable fashion. She allowed herself a full minute to revel in the wildest of imaginings, before settling down to extract all the pertinent details of their backgrounds and personalities from the Twinning sisters. The younger girls returned when the tea-tray arrived. By the time it was removed, Lady Benborough had satisfied herself on all points of interest and the conversation moved on to their introduction to the ton.

“I wonder whether news of your existence has leaked out yet,” mused her ladyship. “Someone may have seen you at Grillon’s.”

“Lady Jersey saw me yesterday with Max in his curricle,” said Caroline.

“Did she?” Augusta sat up straighter. “In that case, there’s no benefit in dragging our heels. If Silence already has the story, the sooner you make your appearance, the better. We’ll go for a drive in the Parktomorrow.” She ran a knowledgeable eye over the sisters’ dresses. “I must say, your dresses are very attractive. Are they all like that?”

Reassured on their wardrobes, she nodded. “So there’s nothing to stop us wading into the fray immediately. Good!” She let her eye? wander over the four faces in front of her, all beautiful yet each with its own allure. Her gaze rested on Lizzie. “You— Lizzie, isn’t it? You’re eighteen?”

Lizzie nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“If that’s so, then there’s no reason for us to be missish,” returned her ladyship. “I assume you all wish to find husbands?”

They all nodded decisively.

“Good! At least we’re all in agreement over the objective. Now for the strategy. Although your sudden appearance all together is going to cause a riot. I rather think that’s going to be the best way to begin. At the very least, we’ll be noticed.”

“Oh, we’re always noticed!” returned Arabella, hazel eyes twinkling.

Augusta laughed. “I dare say.” From any other young lady, the comment would have earned a reproof. However, it was impossible to deny the Twinning sisters were rather more than just beautiful, and as they were all more than green girls it was pointless to pretend they did not fully comprehend the effect they had on the opposite sex. To her ladyship’s mind, it was a relief not to have to hedge around the subject.

“Aside from anything else,” she continued thoughtfully, “your public appearance as the Duke of Twyford’s wards will make it impossible for Max to renege on his decision.” Quite why she was so very firmly set on Max fulfilling his obligations she could not have said. But his guardianship would keep him in contact with Miss Twinning. And that, she had a shrewd suspicion, would be a very good thing.

———

Their drive in the Park the next afternoon was engineered by the experienced Lady Benborough to be tantalisingly brief. As predicted, the sight of four ravishing females in the Twyford barouche caused an immediate impact. As the carriage sedately bowled along the avenues, heads rapidly came together in the carriages they passed. Conversations between knots of elegant gentlemen and the more dashing of ladies who had descended from their carriages to stroll about the well-tended lawns halted in midsentence as all eyes turned to follow the Twyford barouche.

Augusta, happily aware of the stir they were causing, sat on the maroon leather seat and struggled to keep the grin from her face. Her charges were attired in a spectrum of delicate colours, for all the world like a posy of gorgeous blooms. The subtle peach of Caroline’s round gown gave way to the soft turquoise tints of Sarah’s. Arabella had favoured a gown of the most delicate rose muslin while Lizzie sat, like a quiet bluebell, nodding happily amid her sisters. In the soft spring sunshine, they looked like refugees from the fairy kingdom, too exquisite to be flesh and blood. Augusta lost her struggle and grinned widely at her fanciful thoughts. Then her eyes alighted on a landau drawn up to the side of the carriageway. She raised her parasol and tapped her coachman on the shoulder. “Pull up over there.”

Thus it happened that Emily, Lady Cowper and Maria, Lady Sefton, enjoying a comfortable cose in the afternoon sunshine, were the first to meet the Twinning sisters. As the Twyford carriage drew up, the eyes of both experienced matrons grew round.

Augusta noted their response with satisfaction. She seized the opportunity to perform the introductions, ending with, “Twyford’s wards, you know.”

That information, so casually dropped, clearly stunned both ladies. “
Twyford’s?
“ echoed Lady Sefton. Her mild eyes, up to now transfixed by the spectacle that was the Twinning sisters, shifted in bewilderment to Lady Benborough’s face. “How on earth…?”