Taffeta & Hotspur (9 page)

Catherine’s hand strayed into hers,
and Taffy felt her friend tremble. Faith, she was going to get to
the bottom of this. What was it about Bruton that so worried Cath?
Tension seemed to infiltrate the atmosphere and hang like a heavy
dark cloud. Obviously Bruton was not liked by the company who
surrounded her.

Taffy got to her feet and walked over
to her brother, she knew instinctively Bruton would follow, and she
wanted to stop him from looking toward Catherine, for she acted
like he was frightening her to death.

He did in fact follow Taffy as she
came to stand beside her brother and she said, “Seth, what news in
Parliament of Wellington, and what is your guess as to his future
plans?” There, she thought, that should get the men
talking.

“
Devil is in it so no one
can hazard a guess,” her brother answered with a frown.

“
Not so,” corrected the
marquis falling, as Taffy suspected, into the conversation.
“Everyone has been guessing, but no one knows how far off his guess
may be.”

She could see he thought himself very
clever. She also noted Tarrant was watching her with interest. It
appeared to her the rogue players in the room each had their
agenda. Well, well … what is Tarrant doing now? He had risen from
the sofa, leaving Catherine to his friend, Fenmore, and was
unobtrusively making his way toward her. She felt a trickle of
anticipation. She felt a shiver shoot straight up her spine. She
felt drawn to him as he stalked panther-like toward her as though
claiming possession of his prey. Oddly enough, she wanted him
centered on her, even if he presently thought of her as prey. She
knew she wasn’t … and she knew what she wanted.

Tarrant spoke to her brother, and she
realized at once, the two had developed a friendship of sorts. How
very strange, she thought.

“
I think you are in the
right of it, Seth.” To Taffy, he bent his head and whispered in her
ear, “That was neatly contrived.”

She gave him a brilliant smile. He was
so knowing—so up on every thing. It was most irritating.

What then, had he had noticed her
friend was uncomfortable in Bruton’s company? Had he watched to see
how she would handle the situation? Something inside of her lit
with pride. He had approved, but something else berated her. Why
should I care if he approved or not?

The men went on to discuss Wellington
and Napoleon, and she quietly returned to her friend, sat with her,
and pated her hand. “What we need, Cath … is some private time,”
she whispered and was pleased to see her friend nod and give her
fingers a light squeeze.

Some moments later, Tarrant bent over
her hand and said, “Tomorrow then, sunbeam—a ride with me and my
matched grays?” His voice cajoled, but it wasn’t necessary. She was
more than willing to ride in a high perched phaeton for she had
never done so before. She was also aware, all too aware, of the
disappointment she felt when she realized he was
leaving.

“
Well as to that, I could
never pass up a chance to ride with you in your phaeton, now could
I? I am told that to be seen in your company must add considerably
to my consequence.”

“
Used, abused, and cut down
in my prime by a snip of a girl!” he pronounced and chuckled
heartily. He reached and tweaked her nose. His friend, Fenmore,
nodded to him and said he would meet him at the club later, and
returned his attention to Miss Frome.

Bruton descended on Taffy who decided
to keep his attention away from her friend. She used flirtatious
banter to accomplish this and saw her aunt heartily disapproved.
Later, she would have to tell her aunt she was simply running
interference because Catherine did not like Bruton.

Sighing heavily when she had a free
moment from all these maneuvers, she realized what was most
discombobulating was the fact she missed Tarrant the moment he
walked out of the room. It was absurd. She wasn’t even sure she
liked him—how could she miss him?

~*~

Taffy knew all about Vauxhall Gardens.
It was a deliciously opulent place where those who wanted could
hide in the darkness and steal a kiss and more—so much
more.

Weeping willows hung with a welcoming
and sensual invitation, affording lovers their secrets from the
curious. Tulips and daffodils were arranged in a wild bold
profusion of colors and were deliciously inviting to the
eye.

Rogues, ladies, the elite, and the
lowly strutted in their own style, as the Gardens were open to all.
Youths laughed, dowagers clucked, and nearly everyone there felt at
least a moment’s thrill.

It was the beginning of the Season,
and Vauxhall was ablaze with torches and the newly installed gas
lamps. Music filled the air. Jugglers and jesters paraded in
mischievous abandon. Roués ogled, and Lady Taffeta drank it all in
with innocent wonder.

“
Cathy, are you as astounded
as I?”

Her friend laughed and shook her head,
“It is all a bit much for me, although I was surprised by Vauxhall
the first time I was here last year.”

“
It is all so full of wonder
and yet oddly appalling at the same time.”

Catherine sighed, and then as though
confessing a sin said, “I think I wasn’t made for all this gadding
about.”

Taffeta laughed, “Isn’t it absurd,
Cath? I swore I would hate London … and here I am enjoying every
minute, and you always swore London was just the place for you …
and have discovered that it is not.”

At that moment their attention was
captured by a jester atop the circular wall that framed an ornate
fountain. He lost his balance and tumbled into the water, throwing
the Taffy and her friend into uninhibited mirth. When they had
eased up on their laughter, Taffeta touched her friend’s arm and
said, “There … that is better, you are smiling. Now, tell me before
anyone comes to interrupt us, What is wrong, Cathy? For something
is, and why are you frightened of Bruton?”

“
Taffy … I … we … this is
not the place … oh look, there is Lord Tarrant!”

Taffy turned and saw him, and for a
brief moment, she was filled with a sensation she could not name,
and then she saw an astoundingly pretty woman leaning into him and
nibbling with wantonness at his ear.

Taffy felt a flood of emotion and
immediately recognized it as jealousy. Jealousy? she silently asked
herself. Impossible.

“
Who is that beautiful woman
with him?”

“
Oh, that is the famous Mrs.
Connors.”

“
Mrs. you say?” asked Taffy
surprised. “But … she is hanging onto Tarrant as though he is the
only man in the world—and Cath, she has her hand on his
backside!”

“
She does that and so much
more, I am told, with every handsome nobleman she can find.” Cathy
leaned in and added, disapproval coloring her tone, “She is the
biggest flirt—well, I suppose she does more than flirt, in all of
London. You see, hers was a marriage of convenience, and they don’t
bother with each other. She wanted his fortune; he wanted to be
plush with the aristocracy. He is a mill owner, a very wealthy
one.”

Taffy sighed. “When I marry, I will
marry for love…”

“
I have found that a more
difficult thing to achieve than we assumed when we were in school,
Taffy … so much more difficult.”

Taffy frowned but could not pursue it
as Seth called out as he approached, “Taffy, only look who I have
found here!” He had the husky and amiable James Fenmore in tow.
“I’ve invited him to join us in our box … which we had better get
to right now for the concert is about to begin.”

As he hurried them along, a squealing
sound caught Taffy’s attention. She looked around but did not at
first discover its source. Curious, she hung back a few feet, while
her brother, with Cathy’s hand in his, continued through the crowd,
unaware she was not with them.

She followed the sound and heard the
unmistakable yelp of a puppy in distress. It was with sudden
blazing outrage that Taffy discovered a group of young ruffians,
obviously in their cups, out to have their form of fun with a poor
mongrel pup. They were dunking it in the pool near the fountain,
nearly drowning the poor hapless thing.

Taffy saw the puppy was all ribs,
weak, and frightened to death. She didn’t think as she stampeded
them, and with one slapping movement, dislodged the pup from the
culprit’s claws and held the wet, whimpering thing to her velvet
cloak. “Heathen brutes, just what do you think you are
doing?”

The lad appeared unabashed and angry.
It was obvious he felt his manhood had been attacked. “Well now …
whot we got ‘ere? Quality is it … lookin’ after a
mongrel?”

“
There will be consequences
for what you have done!” she retorted fearlessly as she held the
wet shivering babe within the folds of her cloak, heedless of her
gown.

“
Eh now, that’s me own pup,
and oi’ll drown him if oi wishes,” he brazenly answered with a
swagger toward her.

Taffy hurriedly stepped back and
scrambled into her cloak’s inner pocket and brought out a weighty
coin and threw it at him. “There, now the puppy is
mine!”

He picked up the coin and pulled an
ugly face, “Oi’ll need more than that if oi has to give ‘im up.” He
came toward her once more and reached for the pup.

Without thinking, Taffy reacted from
the gut, and hauled off and smacked his face with her open gloved
hand.

He held his burning cheek, and his
face was an expression of fury about to be unleashed. “Oi don’t
mean to let ye get away wit that—no oi don’t…” he said as he raised
a fist and moved menacingly toward her.

Out of nowhere, a mountain of a man
appeared. He was all light and darkness, strength and power,
control and fury, and he stepped between her and the ruffian. With
his one hand under the brute’s chin and his fingers tightening
around the ruffian’s neck, he said, “I think you need to have some
water to cool you down. Indeed, that is just what you need.” Down
went the drunken lad’s head into the pool of bubbling water, where
the Hotspur held him down for some moments before pulling him up by
his collar and demanding, “Did you like that? Will you remember
what it felt like to be helpless and at another’s
mercy?”

In answer, the lad choked and
spluttered. Hotspur shook him, “Get out of here, and I will
remember your face, and if ever I see you hurt an animal … any
animal again, I shall dole out to you what you have doled out to
it. Am I understood?”

Taffy waited, but although he opened
his mouth, nothing came out. The ruffian nodded his head
vigorously, and Hotspur pushed him into the waiting friends at his
back and watched them all scramble away.

Her hands were full with the wretched
puppy, but she felt an urge to applaud and hug Tarrant. Fenmore
arrived on the scene next, and Taffeta said, “Oh my, you’re here as
well? This is excellent. I would be so thankful if you will
apologize to my brother and Miss Frome. I must return home at once
as this poor thing needs immediate attention.”

Fenmore’s brows were up with surprise,
but he readily agreed, and Taffeta turned to Hotspur and said
happily, “I shall call him George.”

“
You can’t call him George,”
cried Tarrant with great amusement. “You see, as cute as he may be,
he is a mongrel, and you can’t give him the prince regent’s
name.”

She frowned, “Silly, but that is no
problem for I have a better name. I shall call him Valiant. Only
just look at his sweet brave eyes…”

“
Jimmy, thank you,” said
Lord Tarrant to his friend. “I will see Lady Taffeta and her new
charge safely home now.”

“
Oh, I couldn’t ask that of
you,” Taffy replied at once. “You are here … I am sure with er …
someone … and will be missed.”

“
No, I brought no one here.
I came alone, and I am taking you and your young Valiant
home.”

“
Yes, he is starving, poor
thing, and I could never enjoy the concert knowing he needs food
and care.”

Fenmore nodded and looked at his long
time friend, Tarrant, with interest as he bowed himself
off.

Tarrant turned back to Taffy and
asked, “And what of your aunt? Will she not be unhappy you have
left her party?”

“
Oh, no,” Taffy answered
brightly, “She said she had no desire to sit outdoors when the
weather was still so cool. She is off with friends … some card game
or other.”

He offered his arm and smiled warmly
as she placed her hand in its crook and allowed him to lead her to
his coach.

~*~

Tarrant helped Taffeta inside his
coach, and took the puppy from her to set him down on a blanket at
their feet. The pup looked adoringly up at Tarrant who shook his
head and said, “No, don’t look at me like that; I’m not your
benefactor.”

Taffy laughed, picked Valiant up,
snuggled him with her fingers and chin, before putting him back
down. Sitting back up, she turned a grateful face to his lordship.
“It seems I am once again putting myself deeper in your
debt.”