Intriguing Lady (15 page)

“Mrs. Ashley will be most upset when she sees you,” Polly ventured. “Do you really ’ave to go to such lengths?”

“Dear Polly, you mustn’t worry. Sir Nicholas will give me all the protection I need. And Ashley won’t see my gown until we have arrived at Lady Winthrop’s. I will don my cloak before I leave the bedroom.”

The hint of excitement in Roberta’s voice was infectious, and Polly nodded secretively. It suddenly occurred to her that her mistress was really trying to attract Sir Nicholas but was using the other gentleman as bait. And with that thought, a tiny flame of hope was rekindled in her own heart. If her mistress succeeded in attaching Sir Nicholas, then perhaps she would not have to forego her own future happiness with Davids, the man she loved.

“Hurry, Polly,” Roberta urged as the hall clock chimed. “My cloak and mask. I don’t want to be late.”

Polly deftly placed the cloak about Roberta’s shoulders and stood back to insure that her mistress’s dress was well concealed.

Roberta swept gracefully out of the room. Just as she reached the bottom of the sweeping staircase, Mrs. Ashley joined her.

“I declare, I am quite looking forward to this evening,” Mrs. Ashley said. “I shall enjoy watching the pageantry of the various costumes. Are you still going to keep me in suspense about yours? I think I should know what you are wearing, in case I lose sight of you in the crush.”

“You won’t, Ashley. I’ll make certain of that.”

“I thought I heard your voice, Roberta,” Lord Bromley said as he emerged from his study. “You’d best be off before you miss all the festivities. I hear there is to be a firework display of uncommon brilliance.”

Roberta smiled and kissed his cheek. “Good night, Uncle. I will see you in the morning to tell you all that transpires.”

“I won’t be here,” he said somewhat evasively. “But if anything happens, I’m bound to hear about it.”

Roberta frowned and was about to ask where, he was going, when the butler announced that the carriage was waiting.

“I do hope the heat won’t be overpowering,” Mrs. Ashley remarked, blissfully unaware of Roberta’s distracted mood. “I almost fainted away at the last of Lady Winthrop’s I attended.”

“I will insure that you are seated by the windows in the ballroom, Ashley, for, if my memory serves me correctly, they do not create too much of a draught when opened.” They had settled themselves in the carriage by this time, and Roberta turned to wave to her uncle. He lifted his hand in a half-salute and disappeared back inside the house. Roberta stared out of the window, a thoughtful expression on her face. She had the oddest notion that something had happened to do with the comte and that her uncle was deliberately keeping her in the dark about it. Well, if the opportunity arose, she would ask Sir Nicholas.

The rest of the journey was completed in silence. They had just donned their masks when the door of their carriage was flung open by a hired flunkey, who competently helped the two ladies to alight. A red canopy, brilliantly lit by hundreds of candles, covered their short walk into the flower-decked hall. More servants were there to relieve them of their cloaks, and Roberta prepared herself for Mrs. Ashley’s criticism of her dress. But her companion’s attention had been caught by the hideous garb of an unknown dandy dressed as a court jester.

“Good heavens, Roberta!” she exclaimed. “I declare, my head aches already, just looking at those awful colors.” Roberta laughed and quickly pulled her shawl over her shoulders. Mrs. Ashley turned her attention back to Roberta and nodded approvingly. “You look absolutely charming, my dear,” she said. “That is a most becoming dress.”

“Why, thank you Ashley,” Roberta replied, and with great determination pushed her troubled thoughts away. There would be plenty of time later to find out why her uncle had behaved so evasively.

They joined the throng of people already making their way up the great staircase, and as Lady Winthrop had dispensed with the formality of greeting her guests, Roberta and Mrs. Ashley soon found themselves in the ballroom. A few couples were already dancing.

Their progress as they circled the waxed floor was slow. Several men stopped Roberta and asked for her card, onto which they penciled their initials beside the dance of their choice. She didn’t recognize any of them, and worried for a moment that her card would be filled before Sir Nicholas or the comte arrived. But Mrs. Ashley’s next words put that fear to rest.

“That must be Sir Nicholas, Roberta. Over there—the man in the red domino.”

Roberta looked in the direction of Mrs. Ashley’s gaze and nodded. It was not difficult to recognize him. He stood several inches above his nearby companion and had made no effort to powder his hair. His eyes were sweeping the room and rested on Roberta briefly. She raised a hand and waved to attract his attention before continuing on her way.

It would be up to him, she decided, to seek her out. However, she took the precaution of marking off two dances on her card, one of them the supper dance.

She had just finished making Mrs. Ashley comfortable in a chair when Sir Nicholas wandered over. He bowed low over Mrs. Ashley’s hand, and Roberta sensed he was deliberately ignoring her.

“Good evening,” she murmured in dulcet tones. “Would it be considered forward of me if I presented myself to the red domino? I trust you had no difficulty rearranging your appointment to accommodate this whim of mine for tonight’s entertainment?”

A frown, swift but deep, crossed Sir Nicholas’s face as he made his bow to Roberta, but there was no time for him to respond, for a friend of Mrs. Ashley’s joined them.

“You don’t have to concern yourself over me now, Roberta,” Mrs. Ashley said indulgently. “It’s an age since I last saw Mrs. Swanson, and while you young things enjoy yourselves, we can indulge in a comfortable coze.”

Roberta smiled and moved away. Sir Nicholas followed her.

“You will stay in the ballroom until the comte approaches you,” he said curtly. “Assuming, of course, that he is here tonight. You must not make the mistake of appearing too eager or willing. He is a man who responds to challenge, not easy conquest.”

“I shall bear that in mind, Sir Nicholas,” she returned with ill-concealed annoyance.

“Your card, if you please, Miss Rushforth.”

“I have already reserved the supper dance for you,” Roberta said, but she gave him the card anyway.

He looked at it briefly, put his name beside the last dance as well and then returned it to her. “I hope you won’t have tired yourself out before the end of the evening,” he said, a heavy scowl creasing his face.

“You really must do better than this if you are to convince the ton that you are one of my suitors,” Roberta chided gently. “You don’t look as though you are enjoying my company at all.”

“Happily, my mask will cover my true feelings tonight,” he said sharply.

Sir Nicholas’s obvious displeasure suddenly began to pall. In an effort to appease him, Roberta apologized for coercing him into coming. “Can we not at least agree to rub along with some tolerance?” she asked. “I find your bad humor most debilitating.”

He seemed to hesitate, as though he were going to refuse, and then laughed. His eyes glinted in amusement through the slits in his mask. “Agreed, Miss Rushforth,” he said. “And you must accept my apologies for being so ill-tempered.”

Roberta nodded and felt her spirits rise. “I find it most uncomfortable to be on the outs with my uncle’s colleagues,” she said, “and you may rest assured that I will try not to inconvenience you in the future.”

He drew her hand into the crook of his arm and squeezed it gently. “And I will endeavor not to provoke you,” he replied.

Roberta disengaged herself reluctantly from his grasp when her partner for the next dance claimed her hand. Afterward, when he returned her to Mrs. Ashley’s side, Sir Nicholas was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered what he was doing. The supper interval suddenly seemed a long way away.

A moment later, her hand was claimed again, this time by someone posing as an executioner.

“A rather macabre outfit to choose,” she commented as he led her into a set already forming for the quadrille.

“But I hope ’tis not one you will forget, Miss Rushforth,” he returned with a smile.

The music started, and they were separated. When he caught her hand again, she told him he was most ungallant for exposing her and demanded that he reveal himself. Before he could respond, they were parted once more. The fragmented conversation continued through the dance, and Roberta was still none the wiser as to his identity, when he finally relinquished her to her next partner.

The polka, followed by the galop, left her too breathless to continue dancing, and she begged the sailor who presented himself as her next partner to procure her a glass of lemonade. While she waited for him to return, she looked about anxiously for Sir Nicholas and the comte.

“I’m right behind you, and the comte has yet to arrive,” Sir Nicholas murmured. “I do hope he doesn’t let you down.”

“Perhaps it’s best he does,” she responded smoothly, “for I’m afraid I have worn myself to a frazzle and will be unequal to the task of engaging his attention.”

“Then I shall order my men not to dance with you any more,” Sir Nicholas said. “It would be a great pity if you failed to accomplish your objectives tonight.”

Roberta caught a note of sarcasm in his voice and looked at him sharply. “You mean you have arranged all my partners for me so far this evening?”

Sir Nicholas nodded. “All except for the sailor. I hope none of them have given you offence.”

“I—I—really, Sir Nicholas,” she began angrily, and then started to laugh.

“Are you all right, Miss Rushforth?”

Roberta nodded. “I was vain enough to believe that my costume was responsible for my sudden surge in popularity. Thank you for protecting me so thoroughly.”

He looked down at her and smiled, a warm smile that made her nerves tingle. “There are many disappointed men who are bemoaning the fact that your card is filled,” he said. “You do look extraordinarily fetching.”

She blushed at his compliment and drew her shawl tightly about her shoulders.

“It’s almost time for supper,” he continued. “Shall we cast your sailor adrift and claim a table? I’ve already taken care of Mrs. Ashley and her friend, who are ensconced in one of the anterooms.”

“Thank you, that was most thoughtful of you.”

They strolled slowly past the revolving couples on the dance floor. Without a word, Sir Nicholas swept her into his arms and waltzed her expertly about the room. He held her close, and for a moment she was lost to everything except the music and his touch. She swayed against him, her eyes half-closed, until her cheek came to rest on his shoulder. She felt his grip tighten about her waist, and instinctively, she pressed herself closer, molding her body to his. Before she had time to consider the impropriety of her actions, the music ended, and Sir Nicholas released her abruptly.

“Shall we make our way to supper?” he asked in a strangled voice.

Roberta nodded, not daring to trust her voice, and followed him meekly to a small room that Lady Winthrop had set aside for her more important guests.

It was the oddest thing, Roberta thought, how she could forget the animosity she felt toward Sir Nicholas, when she was in his arms.

By the time they had reached their table, she had herself in check again and was able to order her meal with remarkable equanimity.

She kept up a flow of chatter as a lackey served them their food, and their new-found harmony lasted until her attention was caught by a tall man in black evening attire. He was pacing up and down the corridor as though searching for someone. From her vantage point, facing the door, she could see him clearly every time he passed the entranceway. Without her realizing it, her shawl slipped off her shoulders as she strained to keep the man in sight.

“I think I’ve seen the comte,” she whispered, oblivious of the look of disapproval on Sir Nicholas’s face as he stared at the low neckline of her dress. “To your left, in the corridor.”

“Madam,” Sir Nicholas growled angrily, “may I ask what possessed you to rig yourself up like a doxy?”

Startled by his tone, Roberta turned to face him. “Good heavens!” she exclaimed in surprise. “I would have thought the answer to that would have been obvious to a man of your experience. I’m certainly not going to attract the comte’s attention if I appear demure, am I?”

“If your uncle could see you now, he would be appalled,” Sir Nicholas continued. “I’m surprised that Mrs. Ashley allowed you to leave the house in such a state of undress.”

“I beg you not to cause a scene here, sir,” she responded as calmly as possible. “There are enough people staring at us as it is.” She forced herself to smile and placed a restraining hand on his arm, a gesture she hoped their interested audience would interpret as a friendly one.

“You are a woman without shame,” he muttered. “I never thought a lady of quality would behave so wantonly.”

Roberta tossed her head back and laughed loudly, as though she found his remark amusing. “Come, come, sir. You certainly didn’t give me the impression you were so straitlaced when you ventured into my room at Reigate. I revealed far more of myself on that occasion than I do tonight.” She felt him relax slightly, and she laughed again.

“You are, as I have just stated, without shame,” he repeated, his voice softening slightly. “You are also incorrigible.”