Lady Flora's Fantasy (9 page)

One day Amy remarked, "Flora, this isn't like you. I detest seeing you in this love-sick state."

"I am not love-sick," she protested, not willing to admit that when she thought of Lord Dashwood, which was most of the time, she, the fiercely independent Lady Flora Winton, grew weak-kneed with desire, sometimes to the point where she had to plead a headache and go lie limply upon her bed, giving herself up to fantasies of Lord Dashwood.

Her father said she needed a good physic.

Her mother blamed the dreadful London air.

Flora knew exactly what she needed. The question of whether or not she could capture the dashing Lord Dashwood was driving her mad.

Amy had continued, "Well, it seems to me he is just toying with you—attentive one minute, ignoring you the next. Like a cat with a mouse."

"I don't own him," Flora indignantly protested, "not yet anyway. I'm sure he'll come around."

Slowly he had. Lately, Flora's happiness had soared as Lord Dashwood appeared more often, obviously paying court. "Well, Papa?" she asked again, determined to find the cause for her father's long silence.

"Lord Dinsmore is of sterling character, no question," replied Flora's father, "but I'm not sure about his cousin."

"Whatever do you mean?" demanded Lady Rensley. "What are you not sure of? Really! Lord Dashwood is titled, soon to be rich, and all that. What more could we ask for?"

"Of late, he's been most attentive," Flora contributed, her worry burgeoning. "I could very well marry him, Papa, so please, tell us why you sound so unsure."

Lord Rensley bluntly replied, "The man's a gambler."

"So are many in London."

"Not like Dashwood.
On-dit
has it he's not only deep in debt, he's a welcher."

Lord Dashwood? Flora was shocked and refused to believe such a thing. "That can't be true, Papa. I've never even heard him mention gambling."

"Of course he wouldn't, but I have it first-hand from the Duke of Bedford. Dashwood's been banned from the race course for defaulting on his bets."

"A misunderstanding, I'm sure," Lady Rensley protested.

"Is it?" Lord Rensley regarded his older daughter with concern. "I hope it's only a misunderstanding, Flora. Believe me, it would give me great pleasure to link our name with that of Lord Dinsmore. On the other hand, I've no wish to see you marry a decadent profligate who's only after you for your dowry, which is considerable, as you well know."

"He is not just after my dowry
." Flora set down her tea cup with a clatter, sprang to her feet, and glared at her father. "Lord Dashwood possesses the most sterling integrity. What must I do to show you how honorable he is, how trustworthy, how much he genuinely cares for me?"

"You needn't do a thing, my child. Calm yourself. Sit down." With a wise smile, Lord Rensley continued, "I sincerely hope you're right. If you're not, time eventually sheds its light on matters of the heart."

"Then I know you'll soon see Lord Dashwood for what he's really like," answered Flora, sinking to her seat again, taking up her tea cup, vastly relieved. She knew in her heart any misunderstandings there were could be easily cleared up.

Lady Rensley shifted to a more pleasant subject. "Meantime, George, Lord Dashwood has most kindly invited Flora to Vauxhall Gardens tomorrow night."

"Properly chaperoned, I trust?"

Flora's high spirits were quickly restored. "Mama and Amy are attending, too, so don't worry." She glanced playfully at her mother. "I'm sure Mama will track my every step. Tomorrow is a gala night at Vauxhall. They're paying tribute to military heroes. Lord Dashwood mentioned that Lord Dinsmore might join us."

"Dinsmore at Vauxhall?" Lord Rensley's face wreathed in a smile. "Splendid. I'll join you. Simply to meet the man is a great honor."

Lady Rensley interjected, "But be careful, Flora, that you don't flinch when you first see his face."

"Of course," Flora answered only half listening. She added as an afterthought, "Lord Dashwood said Lord Lynd should be there, too. So you can see, I shall be in good company."

"Lord Lynd," her father repeated. "Now there's a man of high moral character, if ever there was one. Widower... wealthy...titled...why couldn't you show an interest in a fellow like Lynd?"

"Let us not even speculate." Lady Rensley regarded her daughters fondly. "What more could I want for my daughters than a love match for each, to a man highly suitable?"

And that's just what you'll have, Mama
. Already, Flora had set aside her father's negative remarks concerning Lord Dashwood. No way could they be true. A tiny thrill ran through her. She had been to Vauxhall before, and had heard many a story about how easily a young couple could "accidentally" wander away from a chaperone and get lost in one of the many small, dark paths. Although she wasn't supposed to know, she'd heard of the most notorious of the walks, Lover's Walk, which was dark and very narrow, where scandalous events, the nature of which she had a fairly good idea, took place. She wondered if she and Lord Dashwood...

"Alone at last," Richard whispers, pulling her into his eager arms.

"Lord Dashwood, we must not—"

"The deuce we must not. I am desperate for you, Flora."

He pulls her close. He bends to kiss the pulsing hollow of her throat. Suddenly his lips are crushed against hers and she revels in the feel of his kiss singing through her veins...

"Watch out, Flora, you are about to spill your tea."

Flora quickly removed herself from Lovers' Walk, in time to see her cup was at a precarious angle. "Sorry, Mama. I was thinking about...what I was going to wear to Vauxhall's."

* * * *

"May I ask why you've returned to London so soon, Sidney?"

After a leisurely dinner at Watier's, Richard pushed his plate back and looked quizzically across the table at his friend. "You were at Tatt's less than a month ago, so I doubt you need another horse." His eyebrow raised suggestively. "My guess is, you've finally grown weary of the utterly boring countryside. You crave a bit of excitement, eh? Well, I say tonight we stay here and gamble. Later, we shall take ourselves over to Regent Street to see what we can find." He raised a lascivious eyebrow. "You know what I mean."

Sidney sighed wearily. "When will you learn? I did not come to London to fritter away my time with lady birds."

"Do tell
. Then why did you come?"

A good question, Sidney reflected. He had come to London because...

Richard was right. He had no need to visit Tatt's so soon again. In fact, he had no need to come to London either. So why had he come? He hated to admit it, but Lady Flora was the reason. This past month since he'd been home, she had constantly been on his mind. Whether he was dining with a neighbor, or galloping across a meadow atop one of his thoroughbreds, or discussing the harvesting of the wheat crop with one of his tenants, thoughts of her crept, totally uninvited, into his head. Not smart and most impractical. Also how very unwise to have such an interest in a woman who obviously cared for someone else. Or did she? Richard had not mentioned her once throughout dinner. Perhaps the relationship had cooled. Perhaps...?

"So, Richard, how is your courtship of Lady Flora proceeding?"

A slow grin spread over his friend's face. "Even better than I expected. The poor girl is so enamored of me I've taken pity on her. I'm spending more time with her than I intended."

"How noble of you."

If Richard detected his subtle sarcasm he gave no indication. "Besides, I've got to marry soon. Confound it, I'm nearly rolled up."

"How fortunate Lady Flora's ample dowry will bail you out."

This time Sidney made no effort to conceal his contempt, but Richard seemed not to hear the sarcasm in his voice and glanced slyly around before he bent closer and confided, "Mark my words, by the time I finish, that dowry will be larger than it is already."

"How is that possible?"

"I've got Lady Flora so desirous of my...er, company, that if I reject her dowry, she'll have dear papa selling off his land, if necessary, to up the ante so she can get what she wants. Just wait until I start the marriage negotiations. It'll be through Lord Dinsmore and his solicitor, of course, but I'll be in the background to help matters along. By the time we finish, her dowry will be fit for a queen, and her jointure, pin money—all that frippery women ask for—will be minimal, if nonexistent."

Richard sat back, wearing such a smug expression Sidney wanted to smack him. "Lord Rensley's a tough old bird. He would never agree to such an affront."

"He loves his daughters. He'll agree soon enough when he's witness to Flora's despair should she lose me."

Sidney could hardly control the combination of shock and outrage that welled within him. "Have you no shame?"

"Desperate measures for desperate times, my boy. Besides, where's the harm? I shall give her exactly what she wants, thus making her exceedingly happy and myself, as well. After all, not only shall I then have the wherewithal to pay my debts, I shall have the additional pleasure of bedding a woman who's not bad looking by half and quite lively. Should be fun, especially since she's madly in love with me." His lips curved into an infuriating grin. "What's wrong with that? By the way, did I tell you my esteemed cousin is in London? He's come mainly for the sales at Tatt's and the gala at Vauxhall's tomorrow night where he said he'd join us. Fortuitous timing, don't you agree? He'll be here to help negotiate the dowry."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sidney asked, delighted. Next to his own father, who had died five years before, he admired the Earl of Dinsmore more than any man in the world. "He's staying with you, of course."

Richard frowned. "He's at the Clarendon." At Sidney's quizzical glance, he reluctantly admitted, "He won't stay with me. I...have not been in his favor of late."

"Perhaps if you stopped wallowing in your unrestrained pursuit of pleasure, he might regain his respect for you."

Richard bristled. "Restraint is for fools. Rest assured, despite our differences, Dinsmore is more than pleased I'm planning to wed. He's anxious to meet Lady Flora. It appears he thinks marriage will bring some, what he calls 'stability' to my life." He laughed and continued, "He's so old-fashioned I doubt he ever once cheated on his wife. What a fool. Look what he missed."

Sidney threw down his napkin and rose from the table. "I cannot stomach this. Goodnight, Richard."

"Cool off, Sidney," Richard, jovial as ever, called after him as he left. "Come with me to Vauxhall Gardens tomorrow night. I shall need your help. I want to get the lady alone long enough to propose."

"Rot in hell
," Sidney flung over his shoulder as he strode out, his anger turning to scalding fury as he thought of Richard's loathsome plan to capture Lady Flora. He quickly regained control. By the time he reached his lodgings, he had not only calmed himself, he was searching his innermost self as to why he'd had such a violent reaction to Richard's revelation of his devious scheme.

Rarely, if ever, did Sidney lose his temper. That he had done so tonight was a cause not only of puzzlement but great concern. He was not in love with Lady Flora, even though he had to admit he found her deucedly attractive. Still, why he should react to Richard's plan with such vehemence was beyond him, other than he, being an honorable gentleman, would doubtless react the same upon hearing of any lady treated so abominably.

Honor carried a heavy price. For one thing, it decreed he could never reveal the confidences of a friend. But even if he did chose to reveal the truth about Richard to Lady Flora, he had been in the world long enough to realize that in her love-besotted state, she, stubborn wench that she was, would never listen to reason.

Still, he would go to Vauxhall with Richard, if for no other reason than to see his idol, Lord Dinsmore, once again. As for the feckless Lady Flora, she would doubtless ignore him. Ha! He would consider himself fortunate if she remembered his name.

Regardless, if he could help in any way, he would do so. Beyond that...yes, he was loathe to admit it, but he looked forward to seeing her again. He felt a stir of yearning just thinking about—curse Richard for giving her such a ridiculous appellation!—but, yes, beautiful Aphrodite rising from the sea in that clinging wet bathing costume.

* * * *

That evening, as Flora strolled along The Grand Walk in Vauxhall Gardens, she felt giddy with delight, almost beyond all reason. But then, why shouldn't she be giddy? On this glorious warm evening it seemed nearly every member of The Polite World had come to Vauxhall. All were dressed to the nines in their jewelry and fancy clothes. All, it seemed, were staring in her direction, some boldly, some surreptitiously, but staring all the same. Without doubt, she was the center of attention, and all because Lord Dashwood hovered close beside her, bending toward her attentively, gazing at her adoringly. How the
on-dit
would fly tomorrow. That one of England's most eligible bachelors was openly courting her, there could be no doubt. He loved her. Her heart raced with excitement. He might even propose tonight.

"Aren't the gardens lovely tonight?" Lady Rensley called from where she, Lord Rensley, and Amy were strolling close behind.