My Lady Mischief (10 page)

"I certainly wish to be, ma'am. But what does Mama have to do with Lord Hartingfield?"

"She disobliged her family and declined his father, the Duke of Devonshrop, to marry your father, Thea. That is what she has in common with you."

"I've always known she'd made a love-match. I never knew the exact circumstances. I am proud to think I am like her, Aunt." Thea's face glowed with satisfaction.
"And to think, I did it unknowingly." The light died from her face. "Papa is trying to arrange a marriage of convenience between us. Lord Hartingfield cares nothing for me, therefore I must remain steadfast in my determination to decline his offers. I shall only marry for love... like Mama."

"I believe you are making a dreadful mistake, Thea, but perhaps we may turn it to your benefit." Lady Prunella sought a solution that would encourage Hartingfield without frightening her niece. "We must persuade Lord Hartingfield to call often and gad you about as much as possible. Whatever your personal opinion of him, the
ton
considers him the arbiter of fashionable behavior. His attentions will give a decided cachet to your reputation as a diamond of the first water."

Thea's explanation had failed to impress Lady Prunella. With all of England to choose from, Hartingfield would hardly be likely to accept an arranged marriage, especially to a country miss. Although her niece was an extremely wealthy heiress, it was unlikely
that
would sway him in her favor. The only answer she could find was Hartingfield had fallen in love, at long last. Picturing the amazed face of Maria Sefton, Lady Prunella looked forward to the delights which awaited them this most splendid London Season.

*

"You are looking more youthful than ever, Lady Prunella." Hart brushed his lips against her upraised hand and inwardly cringed when he saw the gilt monstrosity she was seated upon. He looked about the overly ornate Egyptian-styled room in bewilderment. He had requested an interview with Lady Althea and instead had been led here. A room that looked as though some long-dead Egyptian mummy had been sprung back to life and given free hand to redecorate. Where was Thea?

"You Cavendar men were always known as flatterers." Lady Prunella motioned to a chair with her fan. "Please be seated."

Hart adjusted his tall frame into the slender, yet thankfully solid Etruscan chair she indicated.

"Well, young man, aren't you going to ask?"

"Ask?"

"Yes, ask why I have arranged for this tete-a-tete."

"I did not wish to be impertinent, ma'am." Hart steeled himself. Was the woman seeking a verbal sparring match? What had Thea told her?

"No more roundaboutations!" In what appeared to be an attempt to ruffle his calm manner, she took her time pouring two small sherries and slowly handed him one.

She took a ladylike sip of her drink, then jabbed her fan toward him like a rapier and demanded, "Why have you led the child to believe you have no affection for her?"

"What has led you to believe that I have, Madam?" He resented this intrusion into his personal affairs. His knuckles tightened on the crystal sherry glass, threatening to break the delicate stem.

Lady Prunella began to laugh. "Egads, you're like your father, aren't you? He was never one to give anything away." Her eyes turned dreamy. "I must say I always held him in affection, although, since I was in the schoolroom at the time of our acquaintance, much preferred the attractions of my older sister, Thea's mother." She made a small grimace and broke off the conversation momentarily to fiddle with her fan.

"I wish to see my niece happily settled, and it is my belief that you are uniquely qualified to assure her happiness." Lady Prunella stood, signaling him to remain seated, and began to pace. "Thea is determined, like her mother before her, to form a love-match. Surely it is within the powers of someone so accomplished to allow the child to believe that you are truly smitten?"

Thoroughly uncomfortable with the tenor of the conversation, he asked in a frigid voice, "You would have me mislead her?"

"Absolutely not!" She stopped and clasped the arm of his chair. "You have compromised the girl in her father's home! And, from what intuition tells me, not once, but several times over. Your repeated actions lead one to believe that you have either thrown away all your gentlemanly principles or have, at long last, fallen in love. Had you not realized that your determined pursuit of Thea implies that you have found your nemesis at last?"

Had he not used that very word to himself?
Nemesis.
Perhaps it was more than desire for Thea's physical attractions that had prompted his actions. But why should he admit such a fatal weakness to the girl's relation? "I find myself drawn to her, certainly. But to imply that there is anything other than an...attraction?" He shrugged his shoulders. If he said it often enough, perhaps he could convince himself.

"If you would only make yourself more approachable."

Hart's brow cocked. "Approachable? I am the very soul of approachable. You must have me confused with my father."

"Hah! If you are so approachable then why is Thea this moment composing a list of eligible bachelors? Advances do not make one approachable. Thea is a sweet and uncorrupted young lady. Instead, your importunities have, understandably, scared her half out of her senses."

It was possible Lady Prunella was entirely correct, but Hart was not yet ready to admit it. "I have been the most reasonable and patient of gentlemen, ma'am. I have never, and will never, push Thea beyond the bounds with which she is comfortable."

"Enough of this nonsense." She returned to the couch, having finally reached the end of the margin that she'd granted him. The young man was angry rather than feeling the gratitude she had hoped for. She took a seat. "You
will
agree to squire her about?"

Hart nodded, but betrayed no further emotion.

"Do you plan to continue pressing your suit?"

"I've had little success thus far, ma'am. What would you have me do?"

"Stick with it, young man! In light of your previous rakish behavior toward the chit, the least you can do is persevere. If you will stop frightening the child, I assure you, Thea will come around to the idea that you are the man for her."

"Might I see her now?" Hart asked through clenched teeth. He didn't want to deal with this.

"You're very much like your father." Lady Prunella sighed and jerked the bell-pull.

The door flew open.

Chapter Eight

"So you did come," accused Thea as she entered and spotted Lord Hartingheld. Their eyes met in silent skirmish, as if each willed the other to back down or come out full force in open warfare.

Thea backed down first. She turned to Lady Prunella and asked, "You wished to see me, Aunt?"

"Yes, Lord Hartingfield has graciously offered to take you for a carriage drive through the park today."

Thea's horrified expression spoke volumes, and the older woman added, "Emma might wish to accompany you."

He didn't miss the little vixen's smile of victory at hearing these words. Well, they would see who won
this
round. "I need to speak with Lady Althea. Alone."

Lady Prunella cast him an assessing look. "Very well, you have five minutes and the door must remain open." She left the room without a backward glance.

Hart gave Thea a stony smile. She looked as if she'd rather take a swim in the Thames than face these few moments alone with him.

But, he wanted the issue resolved. The tedium of courtship could be avoided as well as the type of scene in which he'd just participated, if only she would agree to an immediate announcement.

"You rashly refused my offer, Thea. Now that you have had time to reconsider, I intend to have the banns read without delay."

"My decison remains unchanged." She raised her chin.

Hart closed the space between them and tenderly placed his palm against her cheek. "Marry me, Thea." He rubbed his fingers across her lips. "Shall I persuade you to reconsider?"

"No. You cannot."

"Do you
truly
doubt my ability to do so? Don't." He brought his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

He felt her body stiffen. "You will have to do better than that, my lord."

"I suspect if I had a little more time available to me, Thea, you would welcome my advances."

"Of all the arrogance," she spat back at him. "As if time spent in your presence would alter my decision in any way."

"Will you, nill you, I will marry you,"
he quoted, for this hellcat did remind him of that fateful Kate. Yet, he hadn't intended to make such a threat. How could he convince her and yet remain a gentleman? What had happened to his usual aplomb? And, what had him acting such a nodcock?

He noticed that her hands were trembling. Lady Prunella's warnings came back to him and he released her. He felt as though a jolt of lightning struck and he finally admitted the truth to himself.

Lady Prunella had been completely correct. He
was
in love with the saucy chit, and, in the eye-opening moment, he realized his advances did frighten her.

He wanted to make an apology, to start anew, but Thea stopped him, saying, "In the future, my lord, I will not permit you to be alone with me."

Their argument was doomed to remain unresolved, for they were interrupted.

"How do you do, my lord?" Emma Rawlings stood in the open doorway. As if sensing the strained atmosphere, she announced, "Thea, if you mean to drive with Lord Hartingfield, you need to change your attire."

Hart was not yet ready to reveal his weakness to Thea. He looked the hellion directly in her eyes. If he had fallen in love so easily, it was possible that he'd fall out of love just as effortlessly. He needed time to think. "My apologies, Lady Althea, I recollect a previous engagement for this afternoon. Perhaps we may schedule our drive for another time?"

*

Over the next several days, Thea and Emma became quite friendly with their maid, Jones. One morning while Jones prepared a bath for her new mistress, Thea brought up her papa's prize pigs.

"Oh, mum, I hate to gainsay you, but," the young maid twisted her apron with her hands, "my intended is a swine breeder. His piggery is considered the most superior in all of England! Why, just last week, he took the prize at our county fair. This week, he is competing against prize-winning pigs from three counties. And, he is a cert to win."

"How interesting."

"Yes'm. Why, jest ask anybody from High Wycombe, and they'll all tell you, Robert Tate's pigs be the best!" Jones added some sweet-smelling salts to the water.

"Papa would be delighted if I could aid him in his dream to produce the finest pigs in England." Thea paused to shake out her curls in preparation for her bath. "Would your intended consider selling one or two piglets?"

"Happen he may say yes, though twouldn't be usual-like, m'lady." She arose to help Lady Althea with her buttons. "Since we are trying to put by the monies to set up house, and seeing as how I do for you and all, I am cert he would be happy to oblige, ma'am."

"Then we must attend this fair. When and where is it to be held?

*

The very next morning found the two young women seated upon a gig, a groom driving them out of London proper. Emma had declined Thea's invitation to accompany them and instead said she would enjoy some time spent at Hatchard's, selecting an engrossing book. Therefore, Thea, dressed in one of her old country gowns and, Jones, wearing her very best, decided to make a day of it.

It was a relief to escape the rules and doctrines that young ladies had to obey in town, and an added inducement was some fresh country air. Thea threw back her head and took a deep breath. With each step of the horse's hooves, her spirits climbed higher.

As they arrived in the country town, she noted it was congested with farmers and tradesmen selling their wares. There were stalls with merchants selling many different beverages including ginger beer, lemonade, peppermint water, coffee, cocoa and tea. Other stalls sold hot and cold foods, sweets, and cakes. There were fortune-telling tents, baubles and trinkets for sale, games of chance and many diverse entertainments. And, of course, there were the animals.

The swarms of people and their activities were an awesome sight. Eventually, having selected a suitable location to meet up with their groom toward the edge of the fair, and incidently near a stall selling more potent libations, they made their way to the livestock pens.

Thea breathed deeply, drawing in the fulsome animal aroma. Bypassing the cows and chickens, they found the pigs. The stoat pens were constructed of low-lying enclosures, formed of rope and wood with the top portion open. Thea very much enjoyed examining the swine as she passed, occasionally stopping to comment with a comely pig's owner.

"Robert!" screeched Jones, to the detriment of Thea's eardrum. The maid waved her arms in greeting.
A shy, tall, gangly fellow came forward and answered her cry.

He bowed politely to Lady Althea, tongue-tied to be presented to the daughter of an earl. But soon enough, he lost his shyness in avid discussion of his pigs. He led them to his pens and she was suitably impressed. These were fine swine indeed. After selecting a couple of likely piglets for future delivery to Steyne, Thea turned to again examine other nearby pigs. There had been one or two that had caught her eye. Perhaps another chance to enhance her papa's stock?

A series of grunts and oinks from a nearby cage drew her gaze to a comely piglet. The pig looked decidedly familiar. Her eyes narrowed as she walked closer to further examine the animal. Then her gaze settled on the blue ribbon collar encircling its neck. There was no longer any doubt when she saw the spot around his left eye. It had to be Egbert, her very own Uncle Egbert. What was he doing here? She looked about the milling crowd of farmers, and found her suspicions justified.

The keeper of her papa's piggery stood nearby, in close conversation with Squire Fossbinder. It was certainly suspicious. Hadn't Papa accused the squire of stealing one of his pigs?

Prompt action was called for, unless she was willing to sacrifice Uncle Egbert. It was one thing to leave him home at Steyne. But leaving him in the hands of a butcher was another. It was likely that he would be sold to some uncaring farmer who would fatten him up and then, most dire of all calamities, devour him.