Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) (3 page)

“
Yes, only just,” Tabitha
murmured with a jump when a loud bark of masculine laughter caught
her unaware, coming from just beyond the Ladies Kibblewhite and
Plumridge. Tabitha dared a surreptitious glance in order to confirm
that Lord Oglethorpe had not somehow already returned to the
ballroom. Alas, the gentlemen involved in the raucous discussion
were all related to her in some manner. Or as good as related to
her, at least.

Her brothers, Owen and Toby were
conversing rather loudly with Jo’s older brother and his longest
friend, the Earl of Leith—a man so close to the Faulkner family he
might as well have been one of them. Owen’s brother-in-law, the
Marquess of Devonport, was also included in the conversation. From
this distance, she could not make out the subject. However, based
on Toby’s level of animation, it likely had something to do with
horse racing or something else upon which he might have placed a
bet.

They ought to keep such discussion to
their clubs. It was unseemly to deport themselves so, with innocent
young misses strewn about. Not that Tabitha would include herself
and Jo in the ‘innocent young misses’ category. Misses they may be,
but young was debatable and innocent wouldn’t be an appropriate
description for either of them.

But then Owen raised a
hand and said something to the others, in particular to Toby, and
the laughter died down.
Good
. Marriage to Lord Devonport’s
sister, Elaine, had done wonders for Owen over the last couple of
years. He was much more manageable as a brother of late, and
Tabitha believed beyond any doubt that Elaine’s influence had
played a large part in the change.

Toby could use a hefty dose of the
same. Perhaps Lady Kibblewhite had been onto something earlier.
Taking a wife would do Toby a world of good. And a bride could take
him off Tabitha’s hands, leaving her with only Father to worry
about.

“
What was that?” Jo asked
sharply, pulling Tabitha out of her ruminations.

“
What was what?” Tabitha’s
eye traveled deliberately from her brothers and their masculine
counterparts to her terribly feminine cousin. Jo was a walking
contradiction, feminine to a fault in appearance and demeanor, but
any man’s equal at the same time.

“
You mumbled something
about Toby and a bride and Lady Kibblewhite, all in the same
worrisome breath. Please don’t force me to explain how very, very
bad such an idea would be.” An almost imperceptible shudder coursed
through Jo’s lithe frame, visible only to Tabitha.

Waving an impatient hand through the
air, Tabitha said, “I didn’t think I’d said anything aloud. But
honestly, I think it would solve a world of problems.”

“
Lady Kibblewhite is
already married,” Jo countered, “so I cannot imagine how her
marriage to Toby would do anything but produce even more hindrances
than you already have. Particularly since she is as old as Moses
and as attractive as an ape. An old, scraggly ape.” Jo scrunched up
her nose. “With blue hair.”

The lady in question turned and shot a
murderous glare in their general direction. Then she returned to
attacking Lady Plumridge with the plumes shooting off her head in a
flurry of heated whispers, this time with far more vigor than
before.

Tabitha had to curb a
snicker. “Please be serious. You cannot think I meant for
her
to be Toby’s bride.
I simply mean that he needs one, something to the effect of which
Lady Kibblewhite mentioned earlier.”

“
Toby? A bride? You must
be feeling ill, Tabby.” Jo whipped her fan to life and waved it
dramatically before Tabitha’s face. “Perhaps you ought to step out
onto the veranda for some air. It would not do for you to have a
fit of the vapors. I didn’t bring my vial of hartshorn with me
tonight, and the clamor over such an event would surely alert Lord
Oglethorpe to your whereabouts. Or have you forgotten the reason
for your current position?”

Just then, Toby and the other
gentlemen turned and faced Jo and Tabitha, with Toby rather
uncouthly pointing straight at her. The look upon his face was
almost...dare she call it gleeful? Owen seemed somber, no less than
his norm. Jo’s brother Christopher, Baron Claremont, had an amused
quirk to his lips while Lord Leith grinned widely, his piratical
grin opening to polished, white teeth which seemed a stark contrast
to the rest of his dark features.

But Lord Devonport...something was
rather unusual in the manner in which he was looking upon her. He
seemed intrigued. Interested, even. His blue eyes sparkled in the
candlelight and he smiled at her, his usual cheerful smile, only
somehow laced with something more knowing. Not carnal, per se.
Certainly not lusty. (Tabitha had to tamp down on a laugh at the
mere notion that a gentleman might someday look upon her with lust.
Apart from the usual money-lust, of course.) But his look held an
air of appreciation. He’d never looked at her in such a way. Not
even once, in all the years they’d known each other.

Toby was up to something.
Tabitha couldn’t be certain
what
he was up to, but obviously he was behind this
change in the way Lord Devonport was observing her. Tabitha would
wager her life on it. Or at least her pin money for the
Season.

There was nothing else to be done for
it; she would have to strike first.

Waving away the fan Jo was fluttering
furiously in her face, Tabitha straightened her spine and stood as
tall as she could. Which, admittedly, was not all that tall.
Particularly not when standing next to Jo. “I’m perfectly all
right,” she said. “In fact, I’m splendid.”

Jo’s eyes brightened considerably.
“You look devious all of a sudden. Oh, do tell me what you’re
planning.”

Of course she would tell Jo. After
all, Tabitha would need assistance to pull it off. If only Bethanne
were in Town, she could be in on the plan as well. Alas, their
younger cousin was busy taking care of Aunt Rosaline in Derbyshire.
Tabitha and Jo would have to manage without her
assistance.

Tabitha took one last look at her
brother, started briefly when Lord Devonport locked his gaze with
hers, and then pulled Jo closer to the wall. “I have a project for
this Season. I’m going to find Toby a wife.”

Jo chuckled. “You do realize that your
twin is the most consummate of all the confirmed bachelors in Town,
do you not?”

“
Yes, yes, of course,”
Tabitha rushed on. “But that hardly signifies. He’ll be powerless
once we find the right young lady for the position.” That would be
the key to the plan. Finding the
right
young lady. Toby had a very
particular type, so she would have to meet his requirements.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t come close to falling head over
ears.

“
But why would you even
want to attempt such a thing?” Jo’s expression was full of
dubiousness.

Why? Had Jo gone daft? “Because he
drives me to the brink of insanity at every opportunity he gets!
Even now, he is over there plotting something. I can see it in his
eyes.” Which, at the moment, were glinting across at her with some
devilry or another. “You have to help me. You know as well as I do
how much better a married brother is to have around than an
unmarried brother. Isn’t Christopher more manageable now than
either Graham or Patrick? And it’s obvious to anyone with two eyes
that Owen is far more biddable these days than Toby.”

“
And so you think to force
him into something he is altogether set against?” Jo asked
dryly.

“
Of course.” Tabitha eyed
her cousin resolutely. “After we finish with him, we can move on to
your younger brothers, if you want.”

Lord Leith winked at Jo
then—he actually
winked
at her. In front of an entire ballroom full of
people. How entirely too familiar of him. Tabitha frowned across at
him. “Or perhaps you would prefer to focus on Lord Leith before
your brothers, since he behaves in a thoroughly inappropriate
manner around you all the time.”

“
We’ll do no such thing,”
Jo replied. “I can handle Leith. As to Graham and Patrick, why
don’t we ascertain how your efforts with Toby will progress first?”
She didn’t sound convinced that it would work out the way Tabitha
had it all planned.

Still, waiting to deal with Jo’s
brothers suited Tabitha perfectly well. After all, Toby was the
biggest nuisance of all of the men in the family. Even adding up
the troublesome qualities of all the other men combined wouldn’t
create a sum that could rival Toby’s vexing potential. He was the
greatest single source of irritation in Tabitha’s life, with his
constant attempts to interfere and his reminders of her status as
an overweight spinster.

Granted, her choice to
remain a spinster was a purposeful one. She’d made a pact, and she
wouldn’t break her word for anything. But
he
needn’t know that. And if she
could somehow occupy him with focusing on his own marital
prospects, then maybe, finally, she could be free of his
meddling.

“
Perfect,” Tabitha said.
“Now, let us find our first victim.” She had to restrain herself
from rubbing her hands together in glee at the prospect.

Jo chuckled despite her attempted
frown.

“
Fine, our first
project
,” Tabitha
amended.

This Season could turn out to be
rather enjoyable, as long as things went according to her plan and
not according to her father’s. Or Toby’s.

Chapter Two

Noah deLancie, fifth Marquess of
Devonport, had never been alone a day in his life. Yet, dash it
all, his earlier conversation with the Earl of Glastonbury had
proven that was all about to change.

“
What has you looking like
someone ran down your puppy with a coach and four?” Toby Shelton
asked Noah as he sidled up alongside him.

Mere moments before, Noah had arrived
at the Scantlebury ball, issuing apologies to the host and hostess
for his tardiness due to his interview with Glastonbury. Noah was
just now making his way inside the main ballroom to scour the
prospects who could help to alleviate the troublesome situation
with which he’d been left.

Shelton passed a glass of lemonade
into Noah’s hands before adding almost as an afterthought, “I’ve
enhanced that with a little something special.”

Noah had taken a sip
before he heard Shelton’s warning. He nearly choked from the burn
of whiskey cutting a jagged path down his throat. “A little?”
Whiskey and lemonade did not make for a happy marriage in his
mouth, particularly since he’d never developed a taste for the foul
liquor. He’d have a brandy from time to time, or the odd glass of
port. On occasion he had even been known to help himself to some of
his mother’s sherry. But never when another gentleman might notice.
He’d never hear the end of it if the gentlemen of the
ton
caught wind of such
a propensity.

Shelton ignored Noah’s spluttering,
instead raising an eyebrow and snapping his fingers. “Out with it.
I need something to add a little excitement to the evening. It’s
either pull a fascinating tale out of you or seek out a widow with
whom to flirt outrageously. One who somehow isn’t already aware of
my penchant for roguery, in the hopes she’ll take me home.” He gave
an exaggerated wink and waggled a single eyebrow a few
times.

“
Wouldn’t this supposed
widow then learn of your roguish ways?” Noah asked in an effort to
stall. He wasn’t clear in his own mind yet how he felt about the
events of the day. It was too soon to tell anyone else. Noah wasn’t
ready to have outsiders weigh in on his predicament.

A wide grin spread slowly across
Shelton’s face. “Indeed, she would. Which, incidentally, isn’t such
a bad thought. I’ll probably do that later. But first I want to
know why your breeches are bunched.”

With that Raynesford joined them,
coming upon Noah from behind. “How would you know Devonport’s
breeches are bunched?” he asked his brother in his typically dry
fashion. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. I really don’t want to
know.”

Lovely. If one Shelton
brother wasn’t enough, the other simply had to show up and delight
himself in Noah’s problems. Usually, he enjoyed the company of the
two. But tonight could hardly be considered a usual night. He
wanted to sulk, to wallow in his own misery. He did
not
want to divulge
private matters—things that ought to be kept between himself and
his secretary—to the viscount and his brother.

Besides, Noah’s mother and Glastonbury
deserved to break their own news to the gathered crowd, just as
each of Noah’s five younger sisters and their respective intendeds
(now husbands) had done in recent years. The happy couple in
question had yet to make their entrance. Glastonbury’s carriage was
just arriving as Noah had walked past the massive window at the top
of the stairs.

Shelton took his older brother’s bait
with a devilish smile. “What else could possibly cause such an
expression on his face? He looks...squeezed? No, that’s not quite
right. Perhaps pinched.” A decided nod from Raynesford and the
questioning eyes of Leith and Claremont (who had just joined the
ever-growing party) confirmed Shelton’s word choice. “Pinched it
is.”