My Lady Scandal (6 page)

She had no idea why he seemed so determined to make their lives easier.

But she would like to find out.

Another necklace – sapphires with a pear cut diamond drop of quite remarkable brilliance - bounced by, around the very plump neck of the Countess of Belmont. It matched the sapphire and diamond drops in her fleshy pink earlobes. Another unpleasant female, Nell decided.

She did not think it odd that she should not be interested in the jewelry of the more delightful ladies she had met like Viola Durham. Delightful ladies did not deserve to be made to suffer a moment’s unhappiness, whereas bossy, loud and obnoxious females deserved a set down.

The reel ended and her partner, Lord Roxby, delivered her to the edges of the dance floor once again. Just as her other partners had, he seemed inclined to linger.

She had forgotten how much hard work was involved in socializing and wished for nothing more than a few minutes alone so she could collect herself. Even now, she could see no less than three other gentlemen descending on her purposefully, along with several females who would undoubtedly wish to interview her further about her past; which would be very tiresome.

A little
too
tiresome.

Just as she was about to turn and make her way to the retiring room – the one place she was almost sure she could be alone – Carlisle appeared, a sinuous shadow in black, slipping through the close packed bodies. He smiled at her and, once again, she found herself smiling back. There was something about the man’s smile, a shared conspiratorial air, to which she could not help responding.

He led her through the throng, smiling at his guests, a word here, a word there, never stopping until they had reached the relative peace and quiet of the conservatory. Naturally, they were not alone. Quiet a few others had sought out a cooler place to converse, but they were certainly a great deal more alone than they had been.

Nell was aware that her retreat with the Viscount would have been noted, but was not overly troubled. While she needed to maintain a certain level of respectability so she did not ruin her brother’s chances of a good match, she herself was not eager for matrimony. The only thing that Eleanor Marriott craved was a quiet life.

That is what she told herself, anyway. At least, most of the time it was true; it was only when she was in the presence of an absurdly good-looking nobleman that she thought it possible she might want something more.

‘So, Miss. Marriott,’ he began as they started to promenade through the clumps and clusters of greenery that Carlisle’s gardeners had so artfully planted. Although they were inside, the clever placement made it almost feel as if they were in a park. ‘You seem to have scored a hit.’

‘Thanks to you, Sir. Without your assistance, I doubt it would have run so smoothly.’

‘Oh, no, I am quite sure you and your brother would have been a sensation anywhere.’ At her sideways look of enquiry he clarified. ‘Two astonishingly lovely people surrounded by an air of mystery? My dear, you could not fail.’

For somebody who was not inclined to blush, Nell felt herself turning a little pink at this. ‘I fear you exaggerate our attractions.’

Nell was so taken aback at this that several moments of silence passed by before she could regroup. How
very
observant the elegant Lord Carlisle was! ‘Oh, his shoulder. Yes, he fell a few weeks ago and suffered a dislocation. The dancing must be aggravating it once again.’

‘You should tell him to take more care.’

She looked up at him, eyes searching. ‘I will be sure to do so, My Lord.’

Although outwardly composed, his words had triggered a train of thought that was both uncomfortable and alarming. Did Carlisle know that it was Perry who had been shot? How could he possibly know? And, more to the point, had he really been warning her to take care?

What does he know
? Nell thought anxiously.
What could he possibly know?

‘If I might just have your attention for one moment,’ Captain Frame said, voice stiff.

Viola looked up at him with a smile. She had just finished dancing with the delectable Peregrine Marriott and she looked enchantingly flushed, cheeks warm, brown eyes sparkling. ‘Hugo! Have you come to ask me to dance?’

Hugo Frame hesitated. He was not sure what he had intended, other than to claim her attention. It had irritated him enormously to see her dancing with Lord Marriott, laughing up at him as they twirled carelessly around the floor. And there was no doubt that Marriott was an excellent dancer, a fact that irked the Captain even more. Viola, he felt, was enjoying herself far too much tonight.

‘Of course.’ Offering his arm, they took their places for a Quadrille, an irritating dance when one was intent in talking to one’s partner, as it broke apart and reformed again too frequently to carry out any kind of meaningful conversation. He went through the steps, however, as competent at dancing as he was at most things and, while there was no real flair, he still carried himself well. At the end of it, he led Viola off the dance floor, taking her a little way away from the general melee.

Viola, delighted with the unexpected turn of events (for the Captain was a stickler for the proprieties), turned towards him expectantly when a quiet corner had been found. Before she could say a thing, however, he spoke, his words quite killing the moment and her expectations!

‘What do you know about young Marriott? He seemed very forward with you!’

Viola paused and then raised an eyebrow. This had
not
been what she was expecting, but it was interesting, just the same. ‘Why, whatever do you mean?’

‘I mean that the two of you seemed very familiar together,’ Captain Frame said irritably. ‘Really, Viola, do you think it wise to encourage the attentions of a man you barely know?’

Viola looked up at Frame thoughtfully. She had been trying to secure
his
attention for several months, but, what with his wretched regimental duties and his irritating adherence to Society’s strictures, she had barely been able to find a minute alone with him. Now he seemed to actually be… jealous? A small thrill of delight ran though her and her course seemed clear.

Batting thick, dark lashes at him, she gave him a smile. ‘Well, nobody knows the Marriotts, do they? Not yet, that is. But I am convinced it is my duty to do so. Poor Miss. Marriott… she will not have a friend in London. I fully intend to take her under my wing and show her around.’

Hugo did not seem to find this worthy ambition in the least bit laudable. ‘All well and good, but what if the Marriotts are not who they say they are?’

‘Whatever do you mean? They are the
Marriotts
. Grif called on them at their home.’

‘And that is another thing,’ the Captain continued, ignoring her interjection, ‘what on earth is your cousin up to, introducing the two of them into Society? It would be just like him to be up to some mischief or other. Frankly, the very fact that Carlisle is behind this makes me all the more wary of embracing them.’

‘Well, I think you are just being mean!’ Viola said with a pout. ‘They seem perfectly delightful; everybody is saying so. And Lord Marriott is the most marvelous dancer!’

Of course, she was pouring fuel on the fire; but the fire was so unexpected that she really could not resist. Who would have thought that Hugo would have been jealous of the new arrival? Viola was not one to let an opportunity slip through her fingers. She was rewarded by the scowl forming on Captain Frame’s face.

‘There is more to a man than the ability to dance, Viola!’

‘Oh, I am aware of that,’ she returned blithely. ‘The ability to dress well and look good upon a horse is also essential.’

He stared down at her, clearly unhappy with the way the conversation was going and unsure how to set it on the course he desired. ‘Just beware of befriending people you do not know. You are very trusting, Viola.’

And you are very frustrating
, she thought with an inward sigh. She had no real idea why her attention had fixed upon Captain Frame as the object of her desire, not when there were so many other men who were more than willing to court her. And why not? With an excellent dowry and a distinguished family, she could expect a very respectable number of suitors culminating in an eligible alliance.

Hugo Frame was older than she had thought to look for in a husband, one and thirty years of age. He had a respectable income, as well as a country house in Essex, but it was in no way remarkable. He was a great deal more serious than she liked as well, inclined to pay attention to matters that were too dreary for words. Why, he actually took an interest in
politics
!

Truthfully (as her hideous cousin liked to point out to her), Captain Hugo Frame measured up badly in the potential husband stakes and yet – truthfully – she could not help but want him. It was as if her heart had a will of its own and it pointed in the direction of the man standing beside her.

The very
annoying
man standing beside her. She looked up at him, her sultry little mouth drooping at the corners, wondering if she was ever going to get him to come up to scratch.

For a moment, Hugo looked confused, as if he did not quite understand the question. ‘Well… you have a very trusting nature, Viola. A less than honorable man might take advantage of that.’

‘Well
that
would be a change.’

‘Pardon? I am not sure -’

‘It would be a change to be taken advantage of,’ Miss. Durham snapped, ‘because frankly, I am having absolutely no luck with you. Do you never even
think
of kissing me?’

Hugo stared down at her for a long moment and then suddenly the expression in his grey eyes changed, darkening with desire as he thought about that very thing; kissing her. Viola could see it in his face; the way his mouth moved, his body shifting towards her own, just a little. Hugo Frame was – right at this moment – thinking about kissing her and her heart began to beat harder, faster, aching to have him bend his head and touch his lips to her own…

‘Miss. Durham, I do believe that this is a very
dark
corner for you to be occupying.’ The braying tones of Lady Pelham shattered the moment into a thousand, painful shards.

Viola and Hugo, though they had the very picture of guilt. Lady Pelham smiled grimly; she took great delight in ensuring that the unattached observed every proprietary. Everyone needed a useful pastime and hers was crushing the youthful high spirits of those who should know better.

‘Lady Pelham.’ Viola dropped a gracious curtsey while Frame bowed stiffly.

‘Captain Frame,’ the lady drawled, raising her eyeglass so she could study him more closely, ‘I hear that you are engaged in dispersing these villains off the King’s highways.’

‘The army has been engaged to assist in putting a stop to highway robbery, yes, my Lady.’

‘And do you progress?’ she demanded, ‘is it safe to travel the roads once more?’

‘I believe so. We have patrols out at night, searching the places where highwaymen might spy out likely victims. There have certainly been fewer attacks.’

‘In the past three days? Hardly impressive.’ She narrowed her small, piggy eyes at him. It was a well known that the lady had very poor eyesight, although Viola always marveled at her ability to spot hopeful couples from anywhere in a crowded room. It would not have surprised the girl if Lady Pelham
smelt
potential scandal. She certainly had the nose for it. ‘Is it not true that that young scoundrel Carlisle shot one the other day?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Well? Where did they get to? Really, people who are shot do not simply vanish! You find that one and I daresay you will find them all and put a stop to this nonsense. Holding up coaches; quite unacceptable.’

As absurd as it was, a great many people in Society shared Lady Pelham’s opinion. Most seemed to believe thieves and cutthroats all herded together in some communal area. All one needed to do was find the nest and you could eradicate the rats.

It was simplistic views such as this that made men like Captain Hugo Frame wish that they were serving abroad; preferably far, far away from the un-enlisted and unenlightened.

As the Captain led Viola back towards the dancers – and consequently away from the rabid tongue of Lady Pelham – she looked up at him sympathetically.