Come the Dawn (16 page)

The keen old eyes studied him. “And you’ll be different?”

“You may be certain I will,” Thorne said darkly.

After a moment the duchess nodded. “Very well. Then there’s one bit of advice I shall give to you. My granddaughter will be attending the fireworks at Vauxhall in the company of her brother. She will be in the costume of a shepherdess, with a mask of blue satin. It is a devilish place, and should she find herself in danger she might perhaps be glad of a helping hand.”

Devlyn’s brow rose. “Are you setting yourself up as a matchmaker, Your Grace?”

The duchess’s face was utterly unreadable. “I leave that up to you to decide, dear boy.”

~ ~ ~

After the duchess and Thornwood had left the great domed conservatory, India crept out of her hiding place. As she did a cold wind brushed across her face. Since the conservatory was always kept carefully closed to protect the duchess’s prized orchids, the cold air was unexpected.

Frowning, India made her way to a long corridor of glass at the back of the house, where she finally found the source of the draft. Two of the rear windows, usually locked, were thrown open. India looked out over the twisting chimneys and saw something move down the slope in the shadow of a chimney.

India froze, searching the rooftops but the motion was not repeated. Finally she convinced herself it had all been her imagination. But when she turned to make her way back inside, she saw the perfect print of a shoe outlined in sand on the floor. The same sort of sand was scattered over the windowsill.

Her hands tightened. So it wasn’t enough that Thornwood had wormed her plans out of the duchess. Had he also sent someone to spy on her in her grandmother’s house?

A fragile stem of violets snapped beneath her fingers. She would
not
be spied upon by Devlyn Carlisle. Nor would she stand for his interference in her life. Not after he had made his feelings for her so clear.

Her eyes darkened with mischief. Thorne expected her to be at Vauxhall as a shepherdess, did he? Very well, she would see to it that he had a surprise coming.

~ ~ ~

In the hectic activity of the next hours, India forgot about the footprint and the opened windows. Her costume for Vauxhall was yet to be finished and the seamstress was still busy adding gold braid to the low neck and sheer billowing sleeves. The lovely gown was of the finest silk gauze and would have been entirely scandalous if worn alone.

The fine fabric was all the rage, the dressmaker assured her, and no one knew tonnish dress and taste better than the imperious Madame Grès.

But as she stood studying herself in the cheval glass, India had a sudden thought of what Dev would say if he saw her in this dress, with her hair caught up in a cascade of curls and her face provocatively covered by a red satin mask. Of course he expected her to be dressed as a shepherdess wearing a blue mask.

That costume was now out of the question. India was not about to make Dev’s interference any easier. No, she would be Nefertiti, the imperious Queen of Egypt. She smiled at the sheer white and gold dress, draping her slender body perfectly. To complete the exotic look, one shoulder was left bare.

The seamstress sat back with a sigh. “Mademoiselle is
é
patante
.
You will have many men tonight.
Vraiment,
this necklace was an addition of the most brilliant.”

India fingered the intricate choker of lapis beads and gold amulets with Egyptian hieroglyphics. The necklace had been given to her by a fierce Bedouin prince who had hoped to make India his seventeenth wife. Her father, the duke, had not been amused by the offer, as India was barely twelve at the time. In the interest of diplomacy, however, gifts had been exchanged and horses traded. The momentary unpleasantness had passed, and they had left the Bedouin camp that night on terms of greatest friendship.

India touched the heavy lapis beads, smiling reflectively. The prince had told her she would be a woman above women and that no man could possibly resist her. As the sensuous silk clung to her body, India found herself wondering if those words were true. If so, did she truly want to ensnare Devlyn or was this foray merely to repay him for all the pain he had caused her?

Neither question left her comfortable.

Irritably India straightened the bodice of her dress, which had a disconcerting habit of sliding lower than she liked. Being fashionable was all very well, but she was used to country ways and roaming about in her brother’s old shirts. To have her chest so much exposed left her decidedly uneasy.

“You are truly a picture of perfection, my lady,” the
modiste
assured her. “You will make the gentlemen mad with admiration.”

Yet was it only
one
gentleman that India wished to make mad? She forced that thought from her mind.

She had given the gown to the seamstress for final alterations when there was a knock at her door. Beach was once again speaking, now that Tuesday had passed. India smiled at the impassive retainer who had been in this house for years, overseeing the lives of three generations of Delameres with a martial hand.

“I’m afraid Lord Thornwood thinks that we are all bedlamites,” she said. “Strange, I had never considered us eccentric.”

The butler looked disapproving. “It is hardly the earl’s place to make judgments about the members of your family, my lady.”

India planted a quick kiss on the man’s lean cheek. He flushed faintly and then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to trouble you, my lady, but there are three children below clamoring to speak with you. I’m given to understand that they are wards of Thornwood.”

India laughed brightly. “Here, the three of them? What rascals. But how perfect. I shall see them of course. Beach, would you be a dear and ask Mrs. Harrison to bring out some of her walnut cake? It will be perfect, for they always look hungry.”

The butler nodded. It would be no problem today, since the cook had also resumed
her
normal schedule. Then the old retainer cleared his throat.

“Yes, Beach?” India said.

“I’m afraid there is a problem, my lady. You will of course have recalled that today is Wednesday?”

“Damn and blast,” India said comfortably, knowing the butler would not be surprised by her language. “That means no fires are to be lit in the kitchen in observance of Cook’s sister’s passing into spirit.”

“Exactly.”

India’s eyes glinted as they always did when her ingenuity was called upon. “Then we shall have to set the little iron cooking stove up in the conservatory and I will make tea myself.”

The butler looked scandalized. “But, my lady, it is not at all the thing.”

“Nonsense, Beach, I was never one to stand on ceremony. Please see it is carried up to the far wing.”

“Very well. But I shall stay to ensure that you don’t send the house down in flames around us.”

“You are a fearsome martinet, do you know that?”

The butler merely snorted.

“By the way, did you notice that two of the windows in the conservatory were opened? Was someone working in the storeroom this morning?”

“Not that I am aware of. I shall ask the footmen, my lady. If they are shirking their duties, I shall soon know of it.”

“I’m certain none of them meant any harm,” India said quickly. In these times a job was hard to come by. The last thing she wanted was for one of the domestic staff to be sacked, which Beach would certainly do if he discovered the staff had been lax about their duties. “Perhaps Grandmama was taking some air and forgot to close the windows. I shall speak to her about it myself. Never mind, Beach.”

After the butler left, India noticed a scrap of white beneath the edge of her armoire. Bending down, she found a torn piece of paper anchored beneath one carved foot.

Her hands tensed as she read the hastily written words.

STAY AWAY FROM VOKSAL OR YOUL B SORY

A traitor in her own house? Or had someone come in through the open windows in the conservatory? This would require serious consideration.

India shoved the note into her drawer, frowning.

One thing at least was certain. She
would
go to Vauxhall. And she
would
have a splendid time of it!

Three eager faces awaited India in the yellow drawing room. Andrew was studying a perfect miniature of a Spanish galleon, while Marianne eyed an exquisite piece of coral brought back from the South Sea Islands by India’s father. Alexis sat in a large armchair near one window, her feet rocking happily. As usual, her battered doll was clutched under one arm.

As soon as India appeared, the little girl jumped to her feet in excitement. “She’s
here.
I told you she would see us, Andrew!”

“Of course I would see you,” India said, bending down as the little girl enveloped her in a warm and rather grimy embrace.

Laughing, India scooped Alexis up and pulled her onto her lap as she settled gracefully on a gilt settee. Alexis frowned at the Egyptian-style feet carved in the shape of griffins.

“So you do not care for the furniture? I assure you it is all the rage in France.”

“Is it so?” the little girl asked, unconvinced. “The animals stare at me quite fiercely until I feel my stomach start to rattle.”

“Nonsense,” her brother said abruptly. “Alexis, you are being wretchedly rude in criticizing Lady Devonham’s furniture.”

“I didn’t mean to,” the little girl said, her lip trembling. Her hand slid into India’s. “They are just a little surprising. Still, I expect one would grow comfortable with them after a while. Like that beautiful wolf of yours. Luna, isn’t she named?”

At the sound of her name, the sleek animal eased forward, ears erect. “Yes, this is my beautiful Luna. She does seem to get into a great deal of trouble, but I couldn’t bear leaving her in Norfolk.”

Andrew settled himself gingerly on a long divan covered with a leopard skin. Beside him lay two ornate pillows capped with griffins, which he studied rather dubiously himself. “Your family must be keen collectors. How lucky you are to have traveled so many places.”

“I suppose so. My brothers and I were always scurrying here and there helping my father track down some treasure or other. Whenever a temple was in disrepair. Papa was always the first to hear of it. When a monastery’s collection of rare books was to be sold, he managed to be first on the scene. Yes, it was an interesting life.”

Alexis frowned. “But you didn’t like it.”

Amazingly, the little girl was right. India stroked Luna’s smooth fur, thinking about the footloose life she had enjoyed with her family. But she had always felt something was missing. Now that she was cast back into the rigid rules of London society, she felt ill at ease, as if people were just waiting for the next example of Delamere eccentricity to surface.

“Not exactly, imp.” India ruffled Alexis’s hair and decided to change the subject since the girl was far too quick. She looked at the wooden doll clutched beneath Alexis’s arm. “But you’ve never told me the name of your friend.”

“It is very rude of me. This is Josephine, the empress of France,” Alexis said gravely. “Josephine, curtsy to Lady India. You have lost the war, and because of that, you must be very humble when you present yourself.” As she spoke, Alexis made the doll sweep into a low curtsy.

India fought to hide a smile. Once again she was struck by the strange mix of gaiety and maturity that these three children exhibited. It came no doubt from having lost their parents so young and then experiencing the turmoil of the weeks following Waterloo.

“Very gracefully done, Your Majesty. Would you care to take a dish of tea with me in the conservatory?”

Alexis’s eyes widened. “But most certainly Josephine would. And if it is to be permitted, so would my brother, my sister, and I.”

Andrew looked uncertainly at India. “We do not mean to be a bother. It is simply that we have not seen you since you left.”

“Why
did
you go?” Alexis demanded. “You didn’t even come to say good-bye. It made the earl very angry.”

“It was time for me to leave.” India smiled, ruffling Alexis’s long golden hair. “And your visit is no sort of bother, I assure you. I’ve been feeling dreadfully flat this morning and I’m delighted to have a bit of company. Now come along, you three. We will take a turn among Grandmama’s potted orange trees before we have our tea. When she comes upstairs, be certain to tell her how much you admire her orchids. You will be in her good graces forever, I assure you.”

The three nodded conspiratorially.

The scene in the conservatory ten minutes later would have made any proper London society matriarch gasp. The three children sprawled next to India on a rare old Turkish carpet, which Beach had unrolled among the roses and flowering oranges. At a safe distance away, a teakettle bubbled happily on a wrought-iron brazier. Since no society matrons were anywhere in sight, the four were having a wonderful time.

“The widow Marchmont came to visit again.” Marianne frowned as she delicately slipped a last crumb of walnut cake onto her tongue. “All she does is make calf eyes at the earl.”

“I don’t like her,” Alexis said. “She treats us as if we were wild animals who belonged behind bars.”

India noticed that Andrew did not censor his younger sister as he usually did. “Andrew? You are remarkably thoughtful.”

The boy looked torn for a moment. He had eaten three mince tarts and four slices of walnut cake and was just beginning to look comfortably full. India made a mental note to speak to Thorne about the children’s diet. She suspected that his cook was buying expensive cuts of meat and seeing all of them went to the servants’ quarters, while the children lived on soup. She also determined to speak to Mrs. Harrison about some nourishing recipes that the children would enjoy.

Andrew cleared his throat. “She
does
seem to be forever calling on the earl. And she
is
quite stiff in our presence, I suppose.” Since Andrew was not one to criticize lightly, those two simple sentences spoke worlds.

Alexis sniffed. “That’s not what you said when she ordered Chilton to kill your mouse. You said that you wished her to blazes and you just dared her to raise a hand to your pet.”

“Well, I was blisteringly mad. To think that she thought she had a right to interfere.” A look of worry creased his brow. “Of course, it is very possible that she may soon have
every
right if her campaign succeeds.”

The three children turned very quiet, their faces glum.

“Do you mean to say that Lady Marchmont has set her cap at your guardian?”

“It appears that way,” Andrew said sadly. “And she is very much an experienced woman of the world, I believe. The earl is often moody. I think it is because of Waterloo. All of this makes him very…”

“Vulnerable?” India said.

“Exactly. But that is why we thought of coming to you. You seem to — to understand him even when he does not himself. And he listens to you.”

Hardly,
India thought. She pushed to her feet, struck by the appalling notion of Thorne wedded to Helena Marchmont. The woman was a notorious libertine who, it was said, had shared her bed with half the rakes of London before her elderly husband had the good fortune to die in a hunting accident. India could not believe that Helena Marchmont and Thorne would suit. Certainly, the children would suffer in such a match.

Still, what business was it of
hers?
“I fear your guardian must make his own decisions.”

Alexis’s fingers tightened on her doll. “But
you
would suit him much better. He laughs when you are there, and his eyes go all distant and soft. He even sits in his study holding that hat of yours.”

So
that’s
where her straw bonnet was. India had not been able to find it after her return. But why did Thorne want it? “I’m certain it means nothing, Alexis. You must not read too much into a simple gesture.”

“Alexis is right,” Andrew said abruptly. “Lord Thornwood keeps the hat on a hook beside his desk. I saw it there when I went to talk to him yesterday. He has been proposing to send me away to Eton and I told him I did not want to go until Alexis and Marianne were a little older. After I left, I remembered a message for him. When I turned back, he had taken the hat down and was holding it to his face, almost as if to smell it.”

India felt a flush creep into her cheeks. “You must be mistaken.”

Andrew looked at her face, but wisely held his tongue.

“Well, I think he’s a fool,” Marianne said. “Lady Marchmont is a terrible hag without her rouge and lip color. Not like you,” the girl said firmly. “You would be beautiful without any creams or powder. Even first thing in the morning.”

India felt her throat tighten with emotion at the three loyal faces before her. Their lives were so uncertain and now the one man who could protect them would be shut off to them if Lady Marchmont had her way.

“Very well,” she said with sudden resolve. “What is it you want of me?”

“We rather thought we would try and scare the widow off,” Andrew said. “Nothing dangerous, of course. We’ll simply free my collection of pet mice.”

Marianne giggled. “And I have a dead horned beetle that I will put in her reticule. It is most revoltingly lifelike, I assure you.”

India bit her lip to keep from laughing at the thought of the imperious Lady Marchmont reaching into her bag and pulling out a horned beetle. “And what is to be my part in all this, you rogues?”

“We were hoping that you’d keep the earl occupied while we made our preparations,” Andrew explained.

India knew a moment of doubt. She did not care to be in Thorne’s company any more than she had to. It was true that she had been planning her own campaign of revenge, but she felt guilty in allowing the children to be involved. “I shall try,” she began uncertainly, “but your guardian is not likely to be interested in spending much time in my company.”

Although Alexis opened her mouth to protest, Andrew cut his sister off. “You are very good, my lady. We can ask no more of you than that.”

The three sat looking very glum. Thoughts of having Lady Marchmont as a stepmama drove away all the sweetness of their adventure in the conservatory.

Then India clapped her hands. “But I have the very thing to cheer you up. Have you ever seen a balloon ascension?”

“Balloon ascension?” Three sets of eager eyes swung toward her.

“I’ve been reading about such things,” cried Andrew. “Is there one planned?”

“In Hampstead Heath today, directly after a meeting of the Society for Rational Investigation of Natural Phenomena. Would you like to attend?”

The three children jumped up, shrieking.

“I will accept that as a yes,” India said, laughing. “And I shall be delighted to chaperon you. But you must tell your guardian where you are going. It will not do to lie to him.”

“I’ll send around a note,” Andrew said quickly. “But it doesn’t matter. He won’t be back for most of the day and maybe even the night. He does that often, you know. It is rather strange, I suppose, but most grown-ups seem to act strangely.” The boy flushed. “Oh, I beg your pardon. I did not mean to say that you—”

“It’s quite all right, Andrew. Sometimes I agree with you.” India frowned, recalling Dev’s cryptic comments to the Duchess of Cranford. He had said something about duty and responsibility, she remembered. Could there be more going on here than she imagined? After he had nearly lost his life at Waterloo, could they continue to demand more of him?

Anger flooded through her. It would be just like Dev. His sense of honor had always carried an element of recklessness. “Very well,” she said briskly. “If you will write a note for your guardian, we may be off.” She looked down at her little timepiece and nodded. “We still have three quarters of an hour before the ascension is to begin. This will be an important day in the annals of scientific investigation, after all. The experience will no doubt have a most improving effect on all of our minds.”