Lord Scoundrel Dies (10 page)

‘Feminine?’ She had forgotten about the
boy’s costume. Indeed, she hadn’t even considered it. ‘Well I’m
glad you finally worked out where I was.’

‘It’s the hair.’

‘It usually is.’ The hair was like a beacon,
for all that it wasn’t flaming red. Flaming red-gold seemed just as
noticeable.

He gave her a sideways look. ‘You make a
very acceptable girl. Am I supposed to have met you, incidentally?
There’s an old tabby over there that is shooting daggers at
me.’

Harry glanced around and found her aunt,
along with several other older women whose capacity at such events
was to act as chaperones and make sure that nobody got any unsavory
ideas, was eyeing her narrowly. ‘My aunt. I suppose she thinks we
haven’t been properly introduced.’

‘Which is entirely correct. We haven’t.
That’s the kind of thing that gets a fellow hanged,’ he said with
some alarm, inching away from her.

‘Don’t be silly. I’ll just tell her that we
were introduced at that masquerade last week. It was such a crush
of people that I could have met half of London. Are you eligible,
incidentally?’

Mr. Lampforth looked deeply alarmed. ‘Why do
you ask?’

‘Well if you’re a catch, she is far more
likely to approve of us talking.’

Mr. Lampforth hesitated. ‘I’m single,’ he
admitted cautiously. ‘And solvent.’

‘There you are then. Perfectly
acceptable.’

Clearly Mr. Lampforth had his own ideas
about this but he did not voice them. ‘Why did you want to see
me?’

‘I need your help.’ Harry took some
syllabub. It looked particularly good and she was fond of
syllabub.

‘I don’t know what sort of
help
I
can
offer.’

‘Oh, I think you could be very helpful. The
thing is, I don’t know half of the people’s names on those debts
and letters – ’

‘I still can’t believe you took them.
Harebrained thing to do.’ Realising this observation might lack
tact, he added hastily. ‘Not that you didn’t mean well, I
daresay.’

‘I’ll have you know, I returned one of those
little packets today,’ she informed him frostily. ‘I am sure that,
right now, the lady in question is feeling very grateful to
somebody.’

‘Or very nervous,’ Mr. Lampforth
smirked.

‘Not at all. She would not have got her
debts back if I were going to blackmail her. Or whatever it is that
Lord Sutton was going to do. I’m not terribly sure how that was
supposed to work.’

‘He buys up all a person’s debts, collects
them up from the various people the poor desperate in question owes
money to, and effectively has the aforementioned poor desperate in
their power. They can’t possibly pay the whole thing back, now can
they?’

‘But Sutton must have known that.’

‘It isn’t the money so much
as the power. A man like Sutton would have found holding members of
the
ton
in the
palm of his hand to be pretty dashed enjoyable, I’ll
wager.’

‘He was a horrible man.’

‘A
dead
, horrible man, lest we forget
although no argument from me. What are we going to do about your
aunt? I swear, I have scorch marks in my jacket from the fiery
glare she is casting my way.’

‘Yes,’ Harry agreed, ‘I’d best bring you
across and introduce you.’

‘Do you have to?’ Mr. Lampforth demanded. ‘I
can’t say I care for matronly ladies or they for me. I don’t have
the knack of talking to them.’

‘Just let her do the talking. Personally I
find it very difficult to get her to stop.’

A reluctant Mr. Lampforth, bearing a loaded
plate and glass of claret, obediently trotted over to say how do to
Margaret Astley. Initially, she was frosty, taking him for an
opportunistic young fellow who was trying to take advantage. Harry,
who had worked out exactly what to say to soothe the lady’s
feathers down, explained Mr. Lampforth’s presence, station in life
and suitability as a prospective suitor. Lady Astley’s calculating
brain did the rest and within ten minutes she found she thoroughly
approved of him. Poor Mr. Lampforth did not find this a comforting
circumstance and Harry sensed he would have happily escaped her
approval as eagerly as her disapprobation. He had not been
exaggerating when he said he did not know how to go about matronly
females. Observing these deficiencies, she spared him most of the
conversational burden and organized the opportunity for him to ask
her to dance, although he was a little slow to take the hint. But
Harry wanted to dance with him. It would allow them to talk with
some measure of privacy. As he, with more enthusiasm than actual
talent, twirled her around the floor, she avoided his painfully
uncoordinated feet and arranged to meet him the following
morning.

‘Must it be morning?’ he said plaintively.
‘It’s so very early in the morning.’

‘I am going to go to buy some gloves. It
will give me a legitimate reason to leave the house by myself.
Sarah and my aunt will probably still be in bed –’

‘And why wouldn’t they? It
is
morning
.’

‘–
which means that I will
be alone. The park, Mr. Lampforth?’

‘What time?’ he demanded, rather
sulkily.

‘Ten-thirty would be suitable.’

There came a heartfelt sigh. ‘Females like
you are bad for a fellow’s health.’

‘It will not kill you to get up early. It
will probably do you good.’

‘If I wanted things to do me good I would go
to the country,’ he retorted.

‘Tomorrow morning at ten-thirty. We shall
meet by that statue, the one with the rider half sitting up on the
back of his horse.’

‘Most of the statues are doing that. Very
keen on horses, the designer of that dashed place must have
been.’

‘The one that leads onto Park Lane!’

There came another sigh, even more
heartfelt. ‘I daresay I shall find it.’

‘Don’t be late or I will call on you in
person.’

‘And scandalize my valet? Please!’

Harry couldn’t help but smile. Mr. Lampforth
was amusing, she had to admit. Clearly not a serious fellow, not in
the least but there were plenty of serious people in the world. Her
new acquaintance was refreshingly ridiculous.

Curiously, not five minutes
after bidding Mr. Lampforth adieu she ran into her
other
new acquaintance, a
circumstance that was not nearly as enjoyable. She was just passing
into another salon in search of Sarah, who would undoubtedly be
discovered flirting with as many unsuitable men as she could get
her delicately gloved hands on, when Harry encountered none other
than Viscount Talisker. They paused and she noted with amusement
the look of confusion, which moved on to abrupt recognition and
then, even more swiftly, to frowning disapproval, passing across
his face like clouds before the sun. It was not difficult to read
any of this; the man was as transparent as a pane of
glass.

Naturally, she did not curtsey. Technically,
just like Mr. Lampforth, they had not been introduced. He was
clearly too dim to consider this, however.

‘Miss Honeywood.’ He made her a bow.

‘Why sir,’ she simpered, ‘I don’t believe
we’ve met.’

He glanced around him quickly, dropping his
voice a little. ‘Don’t be absurd. What are you doing here?’

She blinked. ‘It is a dance. I’ll give you
three guesses.’ While his lordship might not appear to be the
brightest of intellects, she could not fault his undoubted good
looks. In a deep brown evening jacket and dun colored breeches he
looked quite delicious. No wonder the man was the focus of so much
female attention.

He narrowed dark eyes at her. ‘Most amusing.
Did I see Mr. Lampforth talking to you earlier?’

The urge to say ‘did you?’ was very strong
but she restrained herself. There was something about the man that
made her want to tease him. She suspected that it was because he
was so very full of himself. No, she didn’t suspect it. She knew it
to be entirely true. ‘Yes. I asked him to come.’

‘Why?’ he demanded.

‘I wanted his help.’

‘With what?’

‘A certain matter you have washed your hands
of,’ she returned. ‘So it need not concern you.’

‘You’re going ahead with that ridiculous
plan of yours, aren’t you?’ He shook his head. ‘It’s an idiotic
idea. And dangerous into the bargain.’

‘Nonsense. I am being very circumspect.’

He looked disbelieving. ‘My dear Miss
Honeywood, you are the very antithesis of circumspect!’

Harry scowled at him. ‘Did you turn up here
to insult me or is this just a happy coincidence?’

‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here, no. But
I have been thinking about last night and I admit to feeling very
uneasy about the idea of you running about with the very things
that undoubtedly got Lord Sutton killed.’

‘I am touched that you have been worried
about me but there is really no need. I can manage.’

‘Miss Honeywood I really think –’

‘Why Harriet, there you are!’ What he really
thought, Harry was destined never to hear – at least, not right now
– for the voice of her cousin, sugarcoated and dripping sweetness
sounded beside them.

Harry rounded on her in exasperation. ‘Sarah
Astley, where have you been? I was looking for you. Aunt Margaret
would like you to join her.’

‘Would she?’ Sarah wasn’t paying her the
slightest heed, her avid gaze being fixed entirely on his lordship.
She curtsied prettily. ‘My lord. How nice to see you again.’

‘Have you been introduced to him?’ Harry
demanded. ‘Because really, we must observe the proprieties. Aunt
Margaret is forever telling me so.’

‘We’ve met,’ his lordship returned dryly.
‘Miss Astley. Are you enjoying the dancing?’

‘Very much, my lord. Although I might enjoy
it even more if a certain gentleman asked me to dance with
him.’

Harry rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, you are
entirely shameless. At least go and show yourself to your mother.
Otherwise she will blame me for your continuing absence.’

This was not entirely true for her aunt knew
as well as anyone what a shocking flirt Sarah was but really, the
girl was incorrigible. She wondered if his lordship liked such a
blunt approach but his face showed nothing but polite attention and
Harry felt a small, unwilling pang of admiration. It couldn’t be
easy, having females hang about like buzzing flies. The viscount
had been on the marriage mart for far too long if female gossip was
to be believed. He was six and twenty, more than old enough to have
made up his mind about the kind of woman that would do. His
brother, two years younger, had married so what was stopping his
lordship?

‘I would be loathe to think that you should
find yourself in trouble with your parent,’ he said now, very
smoothly. ‘Perhaps later I might have the honor?’

It was subtly done for he neither promised
anything nor ruffled Sarah’s feathers by ignoring her blatant
suggestion.

‘That would be delightful, I am sure,’ she
said, a little breathlessly. ‘Harry? Shall we go and find
Mama?’

‘I shall join you in a moment.’

With a last, lingering look at his lordship,
Sarah reluctantly went to do her duty. Harry looked up at his
lordship ruefully, intending to offer commiserations as to his
popularity. Although perhaps he enjoyed the attention? His next
words seemed to indicate that, while he might enjoy the company of
other females, her’s was decidedly irksome.

‘I want you to see that this plan of yours
is pure folly. Forget about the entire business.’

‘How very tiresome you are,’ she sighed,
taking a step to the side to go around him. ‘I beg you, put the
matter out of your mind. We are clearly not of one mind about it
and it is foolish to keep banging heads on the subject.’

‘I am not the one being foolish.’

‘If you say so.’

‘My God, you are maddening!’ This was said
with such an air of frustration that she looked at him in
surprise.

‘My dear Lord Talisker, I
am not doing this to annoy
you
. I am doing it because I must.’
Harry put as much firmness into the words as she could muster.
Honestly, the man was behaving like an idiot. ‘I did not ask for
your help. I do not
want
your help. I merely want you to disappear, right
along with your extremely annoying insistence that you are right.
Good evening, sir.’

And with that she marched round him and
continued on her way. That little speech would surely do the trick.
She would have bruised his ego and he would wash his hands of her.
Which would be a relief, to be sure. It was a mystery why women
flocked around the man, determined to secure his interest. There
was only so much money and position could do, surely.

With a shake of her curls, Harry dismissed
the man from her mind and went to discover the delights to be found
in Mrs. Bradshaw’s retiring room.

It could not be said that Charlie was
thrilled by the events of the evening, although he had to admit it
was not as bad as he had feared. Fortunately Miss Honeywood had the
happy knack of putting a fellow at his ease. Usually, he felt a
little awkward around the petticoat set but Harriet Honeywood was
not like a proper girl. She neither simpered nor sighed, unless it
was with exasperation and exasperation was something Charlie was
used to dealing with. On looking back at the exchange he rather
thought it had been akin to conversing with one of his friends,
except that she was rather more demanding and a great deal
prettier.

The park at ten-thirty… it was a daunting
request for one of his nocturnal inclinations.

Still, all he really needed
to do was look through what she had, make some suggestions and be
on his way. Not exactly onerous. It could have been worse; she
could have wanted him to
return
some of the items and that, surely, would have
been a recipe for disaster. While not nearly so ham-fisted as some
of his friends – here, it must be admitted poor Monty came to mind
– he was still inclined to muddle his way through more sensitive
situations. Two left feet and one of them forever in his mouth, his
sister liked to say. But advice, advice he could give freely
without fear of making a muck of it.