Red Wine For Miss Parker - Another very romantic Comedy (Delicious Regency by Ruby Royce, Book 2) (7 page)

Why can he not "alight from the water"? Does he want to get away so desperately?

"Water? Indeed!" The General tenderly put Mr. Wimple down at the grassy ridge and smiled at him adoringly, then, like a walrus, he pushed himself out of the water, shook himself and picked the dog back up. "See you at luncheon!"

With a few long strides he was gone.

"WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS NOISE?" a new voice thundered and Flora saw Dominic St. Yves rushing through the park towards them. She felt the Prince's muscles tense.

"Beloved cousin." His voice sounded like poison.

"Miss Parker!" Dominic stopped short, taking in the picture of her in a clinging dress, clinging to the Prince, who clung back, in no dress whatsoever. There was a lot of clinging to be seen.

 
"FRANCIS!"

"I can explain it all, Your Grace," Flora began but was interrupted.

"Welcome to Italy, Dominic," Francesco snarled.

"What. Is. The. Meaning. Of. This?" Dominic repeated very slowly but menacingly.

"Miss Parker and I went for a swim, the water is very nice really… you know how fond I am of bathing. It keeps the unpleasant odours away. But I have to confess, right now, I smell a stench of self-righteousness wafting over from I don't know where."

"You've always been an impertinent swine, Francis. Miss Parker is our ward. I will not have her reputation and honour damaged by a Casanova like you."

"I'm not much of a Casanova. Me and Romeo have never been friends…"

"Oh, Casanova!" chirped Flora. "I love his books!"

The Prince raised a shocked eyebrow. "I don't believe his works should have been in your curriculum, Miss Parker. — Well, Dominic,
your
literary taste is eclectic, I know, and I am charmed by the compliment. Comparing me to such an enlightened, intelligent and daring man! That reminds me, haven't you been friends with the Marquis de Sade, Dominic? I remember hearing a lot about you, how to put it, debauching with him during your
Grand Tour
. I envy you the connection, alas, even
he
had to die."

"You've always talked to much," the Duke hissed. "Miss Parker, give me your hand, I'll pull you out."

"Who is the Marquis de Sade?" Flora asked trying to turn her face towards the Duke without letting go and being pulled down again. The Prince, who was as tall as the Duke, was well able to stand. The water only reached up to his magnificent collarbones.
 

"I could have sworn you'd been his pupil," he said.

"Why?" Flora managed to push herself a little further away from him without losing her grip.

"Thank God," the Prince murmured.
 

He doesn't want me near! Well, of course he doesn't, after reading my diary he must think I'm crazy. To fantasise about being his wife.
 

Dominic cleared his throat. "Never mind, Miss Parker. Come, give me your hand, I'll pull you out. You can explain your predicament once you're dry. Eugenia will have a word to say about this, I'm sure. At the moment she's busy setting up her parents' accommodations. They've arrived this morning, much to our surprise."

He held out his hand towards Flora when yet another angry male person stomped towards the lake.

"Surrey! I
have
to talk to you. This
cannot
go on!"
 

It was Darlington.

"Whatever it is, Darl, keep it for later and help me get Miss Parker out of the water."

"Thank you, that's very kind of you, Your Grace."

The Earl reached them. "You cannot ignore your sister's behaviour, it is unheard of!"

"I have four sisters…" the Duke grumbled.

"Only one of them is here, Dominic…" Francesco said rather gratuitously.

"Yes, so what about Clara?"

"She's behaving like a hellion! She's rude, she's pert, her vocabulary is very untoward, all of this is tremendously unbecoming and I must strongly oppose to her education." Flora had never seen the Earl of Darlington as agitated as that. She had not thought him capable of such rage!
 

"You've been very negligent in overseeing her upbringing, Dominic, it is your duty to make sure she's not turning into a hoyden!"

The Duke faced the Earl, forgetting about Flora.

"This is none of your business, James. I have always taken good care of my sisters."

"Hear, hear…" Francesco chuckled.
 

Darlington's eyes shot arrows at the Prince "You, of all people, should stay out of this. If
 
I'm not mistaken, it's you we have to thank for her attitudes."
 

"Oh, yes, of course, it was the savage from abroad who ruined the darling girl!"

"Shut up, the both of you!" Surrey shouted. "My sister Clara is grown up, she has been in society for over a year, I'm not to be held accountable for her behaviour."

"Yes, you are, she's not twenty-one, she's not married and if she goes on the way she does, she'll never find a husband!" Darlington shouted back.

"Of course, she will. She has a dowry of fifty-thousand pounds!"

Flora grimaced, thinking of her own one-thousand pound dowry.

Darlington continued. "Aha! Open up the debtors prison, Lady Clara is on the market! She swears like the postillion but look at all the money!"

"She's very pretty, too" Francesco remarked.
 

Flora felt a rush of jealousy coming over her. She wanted to get out of the water. It was starting to get cold.

 
"Would somebody please get me out?" she pleaded, but nobody was paying any attention to her.

"My wife swears like a postillion, and look where it got her."
 

"You are so haughty it's unbearable!" Darlington raged.

Francesco nodded. "I second that."

Surrey's cheeks were bright red. "Have you forgotten who you're talking too? I'm the Duke of Surrey!"

Francesco whooped. "I'm the Prince of Karlsburg! I win!"
 

Darlington snorted. "I wish you weren't always this egotistical, Surrey! But I guess it is fruitless to discuss anything with you that does not concern you personally. Your youngest sister
should
concern you personally, though."
 

"Yes, but she should
not
concern YOU!" the Duke was screaming into the Earls face. The two lords were facing each other like two raging bulls about to hit their heads together.

"Oh NO? Somebody
has
to to point it out! I can't stand to watch it any longer!"

"And what is it to you?"

"I'm simply pointing it out!"

"I think you are assuming, my Lord! By what right do you think you may criticise my sister?"

"I
care
for her! Something you obviously don't do!"

"YOU CARE FOR HER?" The Duke shoved the Earl.

"YES I DO!" The Earl shoved back.

"YOU? YOU? WHO NEVER CARES ABOUT ANYTHING?" The Duke shoved the Earl again.

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Darlington was white as chalk. Flora held her breath.

"NO?" Surry was obviously fuming.

"IS THAT SO HEARD TO UNDERSTAND? I'M WORRIED ABOUT CLARA'S PROSPECTS! SHE'LL NEVER FIND A WORTHY HUSBAND LIKE THIS!"
 

"WHY DON'T YOU MARRY HER YOURSELF THEN?"

"FINE! I WILL!"

"YOU WILL?"

"YES, I WILL, I SWEAR BY GOD!"

Both men stared at each other in stunned silence and disbelief.
 

Flora, who had been frozen by the threat of violence that had hung in the air between James Crawford and Dominic St. Yves, sighed in bewilderment.
 

There's this weird thing poking me again. Now into my belly. What is it?

Her attention returned to the Prince and she found him gazing at her as if from far away.
 

Suddenly, she was more aware of his hard body than ever. She had not noticed how close she must have held on to him while the two men had been fighting, but now she realised she had actually wrapped her legs around him.
 

"This is shocking! The poor girl!" she exclaimed weakly.

"What? Who?" the Prince asked, looking almost stupid. His chest was heaving.
 

What's wrong with him?

"Clara of course."
 

"Why? What happened to Clara?"

Is he sick again? Maybe his head injuries were worse, maybe he's going to die after all, maybe— are those his hands on my buttocks? Have they been there long? Oh, Lord! Is that his, his, his, his I-can't-even-think-the-word-now that is poking me?

Flora had never been happier for wearing pantalettes.

 
"I'll have to leave for London immediately," Darlington said sternly.
 

"We'll be back in September," the Duke replied just as seriously. "I expect you to have your affairs in order by then."

"Yes. Please inform your sister of our arrangement."

"I will."

Flora heard them, but she did not really understand what was being said. She was too occupied with her own situation. She did not even notice how the Earl walked away.
 

Her inside had begun pulsating. There was a strange yearning in her, a magnetic pull towards the Prince, she felt incomplete as if something had to be done right now. Something basic. Something primeval.

"Come now, Miss Parker." A third hand took hold of her and she was pulled out of the water like a pike on the rod. "I'll ask a servant to get you some clothes, Francis. I will have both of your explanations."

"Oh, what a relief," the Prince groaned.
 
Flora's blood ran ice cold.
 

Francesco shook himself a little, then he looked up. "It was that monstrous dog! He is to be blamed for all of this, for this predicament. He jumped against her and she fell into the water. I had to save her, had I not? I'm sure you would not have wanted a dead ward on your hands?"
 

"Mr. Wimple?" the Duke asked. "He could not jump if his life depended on it."

"Oh, yes!" Flora said through clattering teeth. "He's been exercising!"

"He came running down the hill! It was a terrible sight!" Francesco insisted.

Dominic gave Flora a little shove. "Off you go, Miss Parker. I'll interrogate Mr. Wimple as soon as I get hold of him. He and I have always been on excellent terms."

Flora began walking towards the house. She dripped like, well, like a wet dog. Unfortunately, shaking did not seem an option for her. She intended to keep a last bit of dignity. Surrey followed close behind.
 

As they rounded the house, Clara came hastening towards them.

"I heard loud screaming! It sounded as if you had been fighting with James and I thought that could not be possible, but he just asked his valet to pack!"

"Has he said anything to you?"

"No. Of course not, he only ever talks to me when he thinks he has to scold me. It's really quite annoying---"

"Spare me, please. You can discuss that with him once you're married."

"Me? I? Who?"

"Darlington and yourself. You'll be getting married in September."

Clara simply stared and Flora thought that now she looked rather like a pike, a pike on dry land, helplessly wagging it's fins, yapping.
 

"Sheesh, I feel like I'm herding geese! In with you, Miss Parker!" the Duke commanded and Flora unwillingly proceeded inside.

Palazzo Sforza, about half an hour later

For the second time in a month, Francesco found himself in Dominic St. Yves clothes. It was really quite amazing how well they fitted him.
 

English tailoring…
 

He suddenly felt a strong nostalgia for that rainy isle where he had spent so many years off his youth…for its crankiness and its irony, behind which there lay such a deep sense of honour.
 

Strange. All I had ever longed for was leaving England. And now, after years of travelling the world I find myself yearning to go back, to live the life of a country gentleman, on a nice estate, with some horses and some hounds and with…
 

He took a deep breath and banned the upcoming thoughts from his mind.

Strolling towards the drawing-room he heard a resounding female voice.
 

"I think it is quite the
scandal
, the poor girl! Dear daughter of mine, your husband is a brute, yes, a
brute
! And
you,
Flora, did nothing to prevent it. Now Darlington has simply run off like a frightened schoolboy, not at all the noble thing to do. In fact, it is very unlike him. My, that girl is not fit to be married to a man like him, she has such an innocent mind still, really, hadn't she even enjoyed
"The Birds of Cheltenham Gardens"
? I'm sure I remember you telling me so…"

Francesco walked brusquely into the room.

"Ah, Surrey, there you are—" the female voice began. The elegant older woman to whom the voice belonged halted in mid-sentence. "Oh, no! It's not Surrey."
 
She got up from the settee and glided towards him. "Your Highness! I haven't seen you in ages. You were much smaller the last time. You will most likely not remember me, I'm Mary Cartwright, but when we last met I was still Lady Rivendon."
 

"Lady Cartwright, of course…" Francesco, who did not remember her, smiled and gently kissed her outstretched hand. "You have not aged a day."

"Oh, well, I can't complain… I believe you have already met my husband, Baron Cartwright?"

The two men bowed to each other.

"And of course, you have been introduced to our most beloved family member, Mr. Wimple." She pointed towards the fantastically huge basset hound who was lounging with its head on the lap of Dominic's Duchess.

"Thank you, Mama," that Duchess said drily.

"You would not have recognised him two months ago, Highness, his Swiss holiday has benefitted him so very, very much. He is the image of an athlete, would you not agree?"

"Quite, My Lady. Quite."