Julia Justiss (16 page)

He’d rather not speculate on Priscilla’s reaction.

The scrutiny began as soon as they entered the ballroom, conversation near them ceasing as they walked by, all eyes turning to inspect them as they passed.

And then the gentlemen began to approach. Adam barely had time to claim his betrothed before a group formed about the ladies, all earnestly desiring introductions.

He’d about reached the limit of his patience in presenting the never-ending gaggle of admirers when his old friend Nathan Blanchard appeared. Using, Adam noted with a smile, his diplomat’s skills, he threaded his way through the crowd and insinuated himself at the head of the line.

“Nathan, how good to see you again!”

“Wonderful to see you intact, as well, especially after the carnage of Waterloo,” Blanchard replied.

“You’ll remember my stepmother, Lady Darnell?”

“I had the pleasure of meeting her again a few days ago. How charming you look, ma’am. I’d been waiting for the crowd to dissipate—to no avail! Never before have I been so happy to exert the claim of prior friendship. Miss Darnell, Miss Lambarth, you are both ravishing. Although, Adam,” Blanchard said, turning back to him, “your sister is far too beautiful to have so inelegant a brother. And much too poised to have just emerged from the schoolroom.”

“Lord Blanchard, I see you have studied the art of diplomacy all too diligently,” Charis replied, a blush tinting her cheeks as she curtseyed to his friend.

“’Tis nothing but the truth,” Blanchard countered. “Miss Lambarth, I hope we shall have a chance to chat. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I hope you dismissed much of it,” she replied. “Probably not one in three of Society’s on-dits are true.”

Blanchard laughed. “You’re both of independent mind and perceptive. You will favor me with a dance later?”

Adam noted that Priscilla, standing at his side, was tapping her toe with impatience. Having been much courted for several years, she was not accustomed to being overlooked by a fine young gentleman. To Adam’s relief, she brightened when Nathan, with a finesse that augured well for his career in the diplomatic corps, bowed over her hand, saying he’d saved the most
important lady for last, as she was the special girl who was to make his good friend the happiest man in England.

Next, Bennett Dixon appeared out of the crowd. After shouldering a string of disgruntled gentlemen out of the way, he joined their group, then volunteered to entertain the ladies while Adam and Blanchard procured refreshments.

“Sorry I wasn’t able to catch you earlier,” Nathan said as they walked off together. “I did want a word with you—and I suppose this will be our best opportunity tonight. First, congratulations on securing the hand of Miss Standish! A lovely, accomplished girl who should make a fine mistress for your house. ’Tis also a match which should go a long way to curing your financial ills.”

“You know of them, too?” Adam said with a sigh.

Blanchard shrugged. “It’s my business to know what’s going on, at home and abroad. But now that you’re settled so brilliantly, might you do as much for me?”

“You are looking to marry?” Adam asked, surprised.

“If one hopes to rise in the diplomatic corps, one must entertain, and to do so properly, one needs a hostess as poised as your Miss Standish—and a wife as rich.” His gaze drifted back to the ladies they had just left. “Your sister would be a lovely ornament to an embassy party.”

Adam understood fishing when he heard it. “She would ornament any gathering,” he replied with a fond pride. “Regretfully, though her character is deserving of the highest accolades, I doubt her dowry would be
sufficient for your needs. My ‘brilliant’ match will allow me to rearrange estate funds to provide her a portion, but I couldn’t describe it as more than ‘modest.’”

“No rich relations to settle money on her?”

“Alas, no.”

“You’re quite sure?” When Adam nodded, Blanchard said, “What a pity. She is the most entrancing girl I’ve met in years.” After another lingering glance in Charis’s direction, he heaved a sigh and shrugged. “No sense torturing oneself dreaming of the impossible, I suppose. Thank you for your honesty. Have you other suggestions?”

Though there was one quite obvious possibility, Adam found himself loathe to suggest it. But then, he thought, brightening, Miss Lambarth hardly possessed the background and social experience essential for an ambassador’s wife. “My stepmother’s ward is reputed to have the wealth you seek, but though she displays a keen wit, I’m afraid her rather…odd upbringing would not make her the best choice for a diplomat’s hostess.”

Blanchard laughed. “That outrageous gold dress! Throwing it into the face of society’s beldames, isn’t she? She’s strikingly attractive, and if intelligent, I expect could be taught the necessary social skills. Though Dix seemed ready to mill me down if I didn’t cede my place beside her.”

“I suspect he finds her novelty attractive. In any event, he’s pledged to help me watch out for her so that her inexperience with Society customs doesn’t lead some reprobate into trying to take advantage of her.”

Blanchard nodded. “A wise precaution. Given how alluring she is, someone less than a gentleman, or a gentleman too much in his cups to know better, might mistake her behavior as an encouragement to take liberties he’d dare not attempt with a more conventional girl.”

“Indeed,” Adam replied with a shudder, Blanchard’s comment echoing his greatest fear as her defacto guardian.

“Perhaps I should get to know her better.”

He felt a curious reluctance to encourage his friend, but that was silly. Miss Lambarth must marry someone, and were she to wed Blanchard, she would be well settled—and frequently abroad, out of temptation’s reach. “Do that.”

They had collected their cups and were walking back to rejoin the ladies when, from the entrance to the ballroom ahead of them, a girl in a golden dress dashed out. After a wild-eyed glance to either side, she turned and fled down the hallway away from them.

“What the deuce?” Blanchard exclaimed.

“’Tis Miss Lambarth!” Adam cried. Had some man pressed her too closely while he was chatting idly with Nathan? Had Dix? Concern and fury erupted in his breast.

“Tell the ladies I shall return shortly. I must go after her.” Depositing his collection of cups onto a hall table, Adam sprinted off in pursuit.

S
KIDDING INTO THE HALLWAY
, Helena took a great gulp of the cooler air. After a quick glance down both sides of the hallway revealed a cluster of guests approaching from the left, she turned and ran in the opposite direction.

She simply couldn’t tolerate that overcrowded room a second longer. Her throat dry and her head aching as she’d waited for Darnell and his friend to return with the wine, it had seemed that with every moment the noise grew more deafening, the air more stifling.

Finally, as Mr. Dixon was introducing someone to Charis, his words lost in the babble of sound, the sea of faces had started to swirl about her, making her dizzy. The gasp of air she took didn’t seem to reach her lungs, sending an icy tingle of panic skittering through her.

When the dizziness intensified and little spots began to dance before her eyes, she’d been seized by an irrational, irresistible need to escape. Brushing past Mr. Dixon, she’d fought her way through the milling crowd and darted for the door.

At the end of the hallway now, she halted, gasping.
If this house were similar to Darnell’s, the doorway nearest her should open into a salon or library. Hoping to find it empty, she eased the door ajar.

Thankfully, the darkened room appeared deserted. A faint glow emanated from the window, which must overlook the street. She stumbled across the room, yanked back the curtains, then unlatched and pushed open the casement.

Cold air carrying the faint scent of wood smoke and horse streamed over her. From the street below came the murmur of voices and low laughter. Livried servants manned their posts beside the torch-lit entrance while on the roadside beyond, men in great-coats huddled around a fire.

How she wished she might be out there, free to slip away under the camouflage of darkness!

For several moments she simply stood, letting the chill and quiet slow her pulse and soothe her nerves. Not since the day the villagers had forced her back to Lambarth Castle and her enraged father had shut her inside the priest’s hole had she felt such blind panic.

That day she’d screamed until she lost her voice, pounded on the oak panel until her fists were raw, then slid down onto the cold stone floor sobbing until, exhausted by fear and grief, at length she’d slept. She’d awakened with a fury-fueled determination to brave the blackness and find the way out. Which, the next time her father imprisoned her there, she had.

Despite his intent, the incarceration had not broken her spirit. In fact, being shut up in the priest’s hole had forced her to conquer her fear of the dark and sharp
ened her sight so she could now find her way about in all but the most lightless places.

She leaned on the window ledge, her face lifted into the onrushing air. Escape today had been much simpler. She’d just begun analyzing what about the ball had so frightened her when a hand seized her shoulder.

With a cry, she swiveled to face her attacker, bringing her free hand up to scratch at his face.

“Miss Lambarth!” the man cried as he blocked her blow. “It’s me—Darnell!”

His voice registered even as she swung. Thankful his swift countermove prevented her from mauling his face, she pulled her arm free. “Darnell! You…you startled me.”

“Are you all right?” he demanded. “I saw you run from the ballroom. Did someone hurt you? Tell me!”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just it was so…close. All those people, crowding around me. The noise, pounding in my ears. I—I couldn’t breathe. I had to get away.”

“No one…assaulted you?”

“No. There were just…too many people. Did you bring the wine?”

He peered at her for a moment, as if trying to determine if she were truly all right. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “No, I dumped the glasses on a table when I saw you run off. You gave me such a fright! Have you recovered? Do you think you can walk?”

Diverted by the rare sound of his laughter, she couldn’t help smiling, too. “I feel much better.”

“I had Blanchard tell Bellemere I would fetch you.
Did you explain to her why you had to leave so suddenly?”

“No.” Feeling like a small child caught in some mischief, Helena said, “I—I couldn’t think. I just ran.”

“Let me escort you to the refreshment room for that wine punch and then return you to the ballroom. Bellemere will be worried.”

Helena wasn’t sure why the ballroom had affected her so profoundly, but she did know she wanted no more of it. “I don’t want to go back. If you summon me a hackney, I shall go home. I find that balls are not to my liking.”

“I can’t send you off in a hired carriage at night alone! If you will not return to the ballroom, wait here. I’ll find Lady Darnell and—”

“Please don’t! She will try to persuade me to stay—or feel duty-bound to accompany me. And if she goes, Charis might feel she had to leave, too. They were both so looking forward to this ball, I don’t wish to spoil it for them. I shall be perfectly fine returning home on my own. Tell her…tell her I had the headache. I do, a little.”

Darnell sighed and shook his head. “London streets at night are not safe, even in a hackney. If you must go, I shall have to escort you. Let me fetch your cloak and send a footman to tell Lady Darnell what is transpiring so she doesn’t worry.”

“You needn’t accompany me! What would Miss Standish think, were you to abandon her at the very first ball since your engagement! She would never forgive me.”

“Not forgive my taking care of a lady in my charge? I should rather think she would insist that I escort you.”

Was Miss Standish’s sense of duty that strong? Helena wondered. Or did Darnell simply not know how much his fiancée disliked her? Though the girl was certainly not the partner Helena would have chosen for Darnell, neither did she wish to create trouble between them.

“I don’t want to argue,” she said after a moment. “Please, I should feel much easier returning alone than knowing I have dragged you away and ruined your evening.”

“We are at an impasse then, for I cannot enjoy my evening knowing you are traveling alone through London.”

Before she could think of some other argument to persuade him, he laughed again. “Come now, Miss Lambarth, let’s cry pax! In the time we’ve spent brangling I could have already had the carriage waiting. I can escort you home and be back so quickly I shall hardly be missed.”

It appeared he was truly adamant about seeing her safely home. Though Helena still considered his escort unnecessary, she could not help being touched. When had a man other than the lawyer ever concerned himself with her safety? And, as Darnell said, they wasted time arguing.

“Very well, then,” she said, turning to close and latch the window. “Let us go.”

He gave her his very attractive smile. “Excellent. Thank you for being so reasonable.”

“And doing what you wish?” she asked wryly.

Grinning, he offered her his arm. “Precisely. Your hand, please, Miss Lambarth?”

Cautiously she placed it on his, tensing as a little tingle traveled all the way up her arm. Distracted by her reaction, she barely noticed how within a few moments, he had a message sent to Lady Darnell, secured their wraps and escorted her to the Darnell carriage.

For a time after the vehicle set off they were both silent. At last, feeling ever more badly about forcing him away from the ball, she said, “I’m sorry to have been such a bother. I’m not usually such a coward.”

In the flickering light from the carriage lamp, he found her hand and patted it. “I’m sure you are not,” he assured her. “But this ball would be described as a ‘sad crush’—and you are unused to crowds.”

She wrapped her fingers around his, luxuriating in the contact. “I can’t remember ever being in a room with more than a dozen people. ’Twas the reason I rode on the coach roof to London—I couldn’t tolerate being confined inside.”

“You rode outside all the way to London? No wonder you still looked half frozen when I met you!”

“I’d been half frozen for ten years—in every way,” she replied, realizing the truth of it as she spoke. “Until you invited me into your home. Thank you, Darnell.”

His eyes scanning her face, he said softly, “I’m so glad I…we…have been able to provide the warmth you need.”

So captured was she by the intensity of his gaze, it
took her a moment to realize the carriage had stopped. How had they traversed the distance to Darnell House so quickly? she wondered. Though she knew he must return to the ball, she found herself reluctant to say good-night. Perhaps he was as bewitched as she, for when she rose to alight, he looked startled.

“You will note we encountered neither footpads nor highwaymen,” she said over her shoulder as she stepped through the door a footman held open. When Darnell rose to follow her, she made herself say, “You needn’t see me in. I doubt I shall be attacked before I reach the door.”

Despite her words, he exited after her. “I am not in the habit of dropping ladies off on the street. John, walk the horses, please,” he instructed the coachman. “I shall return directly.”

Pleased despite herself to still have his escort, her senses heightened by his closeness, Helena was handing over her cloak to a footman when Harrison appeared. “Miss Lambarth, is something amiss?”

“Nothing serious,” Darnell replied. “Miss Lambarth had the headache and wished to return home early.”

“Shall I summon Nell to attend you, miss?”

“No, I’m not ready to retire. I should like to read in the library—if you do not object?” she asked Darnell.

“Not in the least. I’ll walk you up.”

In a silence overlaid with the intensity of the connection between them, she slowly climbed the stairs, once again reluctant to reach her destination and have to send him on his way. Finally, as he opened the door for her, she could delay his departure no longer.

“Thank you for your consideration in handling Aunt Lillian and taking me home,” she said quietly. “I suppose I must now insist that you return to the ball.”

He sighed. “I suppose you must. But I shall go at ease, knowing you are safely deposited in my library.”

Helena thought of the night she’d first encountered him here—and wondered if he were remembering it, too. Perhaps so, for as he motioned her inside and walked her to the hearth, she felt the strength of the current already flowing between them intensify.

They reached the sofa by the fire, but instead of bowing and leaving, as he should, he lingered, gazing at her. Watching how the glow of the fire played over her face, her lips, as she was watching it illumine his?

To try to diffuse the tension building between them, she said a little nervously, “Might I beg one last favor? In future, could you screen my invitations and recommend only those entertainments which will be less crowded?”

“I’d be happy to—though that will limit your outings, since many of the ton events are quite large.”

“I’ve no need to attend a party every night. And will you help me convince Aunt Lillian and Charis to go out and allow me to stay at home with my books?”

“If you are sure that is what you want.”

What she wanted…Knowing she dared not stare at his lips and say what she wanted, she looked into the fire. “You…must go now. Pray convey my apologies to Aunt Lillian and particularly to Miss Standish for having taken you away from her. And…thank you.” She couldn’t keep herself from looking up one more time into his face—
that handsome face with its straight nose, determined chin and gray-green eyes that was fast becoming far too dear to her. “I think you are the kindest gentleman I’ve ever known.”

For a moment he did not reply. His hazel eyes seemed to glow with the fire’s heat as he bent toward her. “I wish I could be more than ‘kind.’”

Something sweet and heavy pooled in her chest, made her limbs feel hot and liquid. Her eyes on his, without conscious volition, she rose on tiptoe and lifted her face as his lips descended.

She felt the warmth of his breath against her mouth and closed her eyes. And then, suddenly, cool air washed where his breath had heated and her eyes snapped open.

“You are right. I must go,” he said, his voice sounding strained. “I bid you good night, Miss Lambarth.”

“And I you, Darnell.” But she whispered those words to his back, for he had already paced to the door, where he exited without a backward glance.

Heart pounding, feeling somehow…bereft, Helena sank down on the sofa. She sat motionless, staring into the fire, her thoughts, like the flames on the hearth, flitting in all directions while her pulse calmed and the sensations coursing through her body slowed and ceased.

The book Helena had been reading lay on the side table, but at the moment, it didn’t tempt her. Pensively she rose and went to pour herself some wine, trying to order her thoughts.

She supposed Darnell must be correct about her reaction to overcrowded rooms. In future she would restrict her social engagements to musicales, dinners, routs or card parties involving no more guests than could be accommodated in a dining room or large salon.

Once again he’d surprised and touched her, as he had over the matter of Nell and Dickon. In high dudgeon when he’d summoned her, she’d gone to confront him certain he would rebuke her and order their dismissal. Instead he’d listened to her—and changed his mind, not seeming to think it a weakness to alter his opinion based on the arguments of a mere girl. She had been surprised—and grateful.