Never Run From Love (Kellington Book Four) (9 page)

Lord Henry Kellington was in attendance, drinking
tea and grinning at her like an imbecile.

“You’re late, Miss Sutton,” reproached Mrs. Seton. 
“You haven’t set a very good example for our newest recruit.”

“Our what?” asked Mel, barely able to tear her eyes
away from Lord Henry.  And how the man could rake her with his eyes while
holding a delicate teacup was quite beyond her.

“Your recruit,” said the devil himself.  “I was just
telling Mrs. Seton and the other ladies…”  Here he smiled and nodded to the
others in the room, causing one woman to begin fanning herself.  “I was just
telling them that you’d spoken so passionately about the cause that I had no
choice but to come to a meeting and experience it myself.  I sincerely regret
the miscommunication we had earlier about transportation.  But, fortunately, I
was able to find the meeting myself.  I hope you weren’t too worried about me.”

“Not too worried, Lord Henry,” said Mel with
annoyance and an unfortunate amount of excitement at seeing the scoundrel again. 
“I count myself more surprised than anything.  Not to put this too
indelicately, but I thought you were rather fond of drink yourself.  I find it
odd that you would attend a meeting of those who would seek to limit its
availability.”

Mrs. Seton turned to Hal, aghast.  “Is that true,
Lord Henry?  Do you partake of mother’s ruin?”

Hal turned the full force of his considerable charm
on the frowning woman.  “I must confess, Mrs. Seton, that I have partaken of
spirits on more than one occasion.  However, Miss Sutton has shown me the error
of my ways.  I now offer myself to you as a servant of your cause.”

A nearby matron whispered, “He offers himself to
us.”

“Lord, Henry,” said Mel with some asperity.  “I do
not recall any such conversation.”

“Do you not, dear lady?  It was this morning, when
you were on your way to this very meeting.  At least, I believe that is the
destination your maid told me.”

“You spoke to my maid?”  Mel didn’t want to believe
it.

“Yes.  I managed to track her down.  She said you
told your aunt and uncle that you were on your way here, although I believe you
may have stopped elsewhere first.”  He raised his brows as if daring her to
deny it.

The blood drained from Mel’s face.  If Mrs. Seton
learned of her other activities, she would throw her out of the group.  The
woman had made it clear on more than one occasion that the only thing worse
than drink was the practice of prostitution.  She believed the women were
beyond redemption and merely associating with them in any way tainted a
person.  Mel wouldn’t mind being thrown out of the group, except then she’d
have no excuse to get out of the house and do the work that was meaningful to
her.

“You stopped elsewhere?” asked Mrs. Seton, turning
her disapproving mien to Mel.  “Where were you?”

“I was…”  Mel tried desperately to think of an
excuse. 

“If you will allow me,” said Hal with a smile for
Mrs. Seton.  “Flora said she was at a sweet shop.  Apparently Miss Sutton can’t
resist a good treacle tart.”

What Mel was finding increasingly difficult to
resist was punching Lord Henry’s smug, incredibly handsome face.

 “A waste of money, if you ask me,” said Mrs.
Seton.  “Throwing good coin after something as frivolous as treacle tarts. 
Honestly, Miss Sutton, I question your common sense.  I’m certain Lord Heffner
would not approve of such frivolity.”

If Mel hadn’t wanted to end this conversation so
badly, she could have told Mrs. Seton that her uncle’s only comment on her
spending habits was that she didn’t treat herself enough.   He was generous in
supplementing the pin money from her trust.  She knew he would not begrudge her
a stop at a sweets shop.

But to bring the lecture to a halt, Mel simply
curtsied demurely and murmured “Yes, madam.”  Out of the corner of her eye, she
noticed that the grinning Lord Henry didn’t believe her submissive act for a
moment.  But mercifully, and quite uncharacteristically of him, he remained
silent.

“If you will but sit down, Miss Sutton, we can
continue our strategy session on where we shall protest next,” said Mrs. Seton.

Mel looked in vain for a free chair, then saw Hal indicating
the place beside him on the settee.  She wasn’t going to sit there, even if she
had to stand.  Finally, she found a seat by the window.

Mrs. Seton continued.  “For tonight’s protest, we
shall go to the Covent Garden theatre district.   We shall meet at ten of the
clock, an opportune time to reach those who are leaving the theatre. Perhaps we
can discourage them from imbibing on the way home.  Is there anyone who cannot
make the meeting tonight?”

Mel thought about raising her hand.  It was always
risky to be seen in a place so popular with the ladies of the
ton
. 
Standing outside a gaming hell, one usually only encountered drunk lords who
were too cupshot to remember you.  But being in Covent Garden after a
performance was a risk.  However, it would also be an opportunity to speak to
some of the nearby prostitutes.  She’d have to be careful not to be seen by
Mrs. Seton, of course.  But at least this time she would have an excuse to
leave the house.

“I look forward to this evening, ladies,” said Hal
with a smile.  “And I promise to personally escort Miss Sutton so she isn’t
late once again.”

Before Mel could protest the man’s high-handedness,
Mrs. Seton stepped in.  “I’m not sure that would be all together proper, Lord
Henry.  Being in a closed carriage with an unmarried young lady is hardly the
thing.”

“We would bring her maid, of course,” he added
piously.

Mel rolled her eyes.  Flora wouldn’t be persuaded to
do any such thing.  She could only imagine the size of the bribe she’d have to
pay the girl to keep from telling Mel’s aunt and uncle about the evening’s
activities, especially since they would involve a considerably greater risk
than simply standing with a bunch of reformers.

She suddenly realized she had an even bigger
problem.  She might be able to handle her maid and her relations, but she
wasn’t at all sure she knew what to do with Lord Henry.  She didn’t know what
he was playing at, but she was determined to not allow him to interfere with
her business.  With enough planning, she would surely get the better of him in
the end.

*                    *                    *

As the meeting dragged onward, Hal began to wonder
if any bet could be worth the torture of listening to the Seton woman prattle
on and on about the danger of spirits.  It was, quite frankly, enough to drive
someone to drink and he regretted not having brought his flask with him. 

He wondered, however, what was going through Miss
Sutton’s mind.  As he stole glances at her, he could see a total preoccupation
that he was fairly certain had nothing to do with the unending lecture.  He had
no doubt her scheming had something to do with countering his admittedly
high-handed move of first showing up at her meeting, then informing everyone
he’d be escorting her to the protest.

He wasn’t exactly sure what had possessed him to
track down her maid, then bribe the insolent wench into telling him Miss
Sutton’s destination.  But it had been a long time since any woman had refused
his advances and this chit had actually left him sitting in a sweets shop
waiting for a treacle tart.  It was outside of enough and for the principle of
fair play alone he’d been determined to track her down and insert himself into
her life.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that she was also
beautiful, intriguing and had extremely kissable lips.  It was worth the
indignity of wasting a few hours with the reformers if he got the chance to be
alone with her in the carriage.  He was already calculating the enormous bribe
he’d have to pay the maid.  But with just a bit of maneuvering, he could charm
Miss Sutton and kiss her on the way to the meeting, thus winning the bet.  In
payment, he would deliver her safely to the protest, wait about – bored
senseless – escort her home again, and steal yet another kiss.  That one
wouldn’t be for the bet, but for his own enjoyment.  He wouldn’t even tell
Francis about the second kiss, for he could already hear the man crowing about
Hal’s sudden taste for bluestockings.

Which reminded him of what had originally attracted
him to her in the first place.  He casually craned his head toward Miss Sutton
sitting so primly on the window seat.  He hoped to catch a glimpse of her
ankles, to see if the lady had once again worn her courtesan stockings.  He
wasn’t sure how long he studied the hem of her skirts, but when her face
suddenly came into his line of sight as she glared at him for staring, he
realized it had been too long.

Damn.

No matter.  Perhaps tonight he’d get his kisses and
a look at her ankles.  Yes, he would come out the victor in his undeclared war
with Miss Sutton.  And he very much looked forward to her surrender.

*                    *                    *

At exactly eight of the clock that evening, Mel
ushered Flora out the side door of the library.  Her aunt, uncle and cousin
were dining with friends before attending a ball later that evening.  Mel had told
them about Mrs. Seton’s protest, and while neither her uncle nor her aunt had
wanted her to go, they finally relented after Mel assured them of her safety,
even going so far as to tell them Mrs. Seton herself would be calling for her. 
Since no one in the family particularly wanted to be dragged into conversation
with the old warhorse, they went on with their plans. 

Surprisingly, Flora wasn’t giving her nearly as much
trouble as she usually did.  Perhaps the girl was beginning to find passion for
the cause after all.  More likely, she had an assignation with her young man. 
Regardless of the reason, Mel was thankful as she walked to the street with
some speed.  While she wasn’t expecting Lord Henry for another ninety minutes,
she had no desire to linger, giving their neighbors a chance to see her.  She
needed to quickly walk three blocks to a hackney stand, where she could be on
her way.

She wished she could see Lord Henry’s face when he
realized he’d been bested again.  That afternoon he’d given her a ride to first
collect Flora, then to deliver them home again.  He’d agreed to pick her up at
the earl’s residence at half past nine in order to be at Covent Garden in
plenty of time for the protest.

When she’d asked him acerbically why he’d joined
their group when she knew very well he was fond of drink, he’d simply cocked an
eyebrow then said “Perhaps drink is not the only thing I’m fond of.”

That response had produced a disconcerting fluttering
in the area of her stomach and points southward.   But in response, she’d
simply looked out the window and only occasionally glimpsed at him again.  His
gaze had rarely left her.

She had been impressed with his manners when they’d
reached the rendezvous point for Flora.  He’d stepped out of the carriage and
exchanged pleasantries with the maid, although they were too far away for Mel
to hear exactly what he was saying to the girl.  From the smile on the maid’s
face when she entered the carriage, whatever he’d said had been enough to charm
the girl.  It was, unfortunately, completely understandable.

Now as she walked up the street, Mel smiled as she imagined
Hal’s crestfallen expression when he discovered she had beaten him again. 
Hopefully he would give up his odd pursuit of her, if that’s even what it was. 
Knowing him by reputation only – she’d asked her cousin several questions about
the Kellington family after returning from the meeting – she figured it was
just as likely he wanted an outlet from his boredom than that he was truly
interested in her.

A bit lowering, that.

She hurried along the street with Flora in tow,
passing by a smart black carriage that looked oddly familiar.  Just as she made
the awful realization of whose carriage it was, the door opened and its
occupant got out.

“Good evening, Miss Sutton, Flora.”

Lord Henry Kellington grinned at her then withdrew
coins for Flora.  And suddenly, Mel had a very good idea of just what he’d
discussed with her maid earlier in the day.

“You sent word to Lord Henry that I’d changed
plans,” she said to Flora.

“I promised him I would,” said the girl
defensively.  “And it wouldn’t do me no good to go back on my word with a lord
of the realm.”

“What about going back on your word to me?” asked
Mel desperately.  “And might I remind you that I paid you as well?”

“Not as much,” said the girl as she pocketed the
coin.  “Will you drop me off then?”

“I have ordered a hack to take you directly to your
destination,” said Hal, as he waved to a nearby cab.  “I’ve paid him handsomely
to ensure you arrive safely and are picked up at the designated hour.  But if
you have concerns for your safety, you can ride with us.”

“I am a rather timid sort,” said Flora as she stuck
out her hand.

“I’m beginning to think you’re as timid as Napoleon
and an even better strategist,” said Hal as he placed another coin in her
hand.  “That will be the last coin tonight, Flora, so off you go.”  He handed
her into the hack, which took off forthwith.