Julia Justiss (22 page)

She would appreciate hearing about the betrothal before some gossip mentioned it—and would never suspect the true origin of his sister’s bequest, assuming as she would that Adam had charge of any matter concerning his family.

To his smarting pride, that conventional turn of mind suddenly seemed very appealing.

A
DAM GREETED
P
RISCILLA
in her parlor with more enthusiasm than he had for some time. He was also gratified when she herself suggested a stroll in the garden, where she allowed him several thorough kisses.

“So, we are to have some spontaneity after all?” he teased, tracing a finger on her reddened lips.

“Perhaps,” she replied. “My friend Lady Cordelia says that sometimes a lady must relax her own standards when ’tis necessary to…to fight fire with fire.”

Adam didn’t wish to ask to what she might be re
ferring. “You can incite quite a blaze all by yourself,” he responded, dropping another kiss on her forehead.

“You seemed rather disturbed when you arrived, despite the wonderful news about Miss Darnell,” Priscilla said, taking his arm as they strolled down the garden path. “Is something distressing you, Adam? Can I help?”

How nice to have a lady inquire what
he
wanted, instead of taking matters into her own hands, Adam thought, still disgruntled. However, his fiancée did not like Miss Lambarth, and though at the moment he was irritated with her, he didn’t think it wise to admit that to Priscilla.

“A small matter,” he said. As if fifteen thousand pounds were small! “If I seemed…distracted, I apologize.”

“You never need do that! I am concerned by anything that concerns you. ’Tis my role now to ease your burdens—as much as a mere female can, of course.”

He could not help but appreciate that selfless avowal. “I hope you shall let me carry your burdens, too.”

“I shall endeavor not to add to yours! I imagine overseeing Miss Lambarth is trying enough. Such a…a headstrong girl. Excuse me, but I must feel that to be dangerous trait, given her sad lack of proper upbringing.”

If she only knew. “It can be vexing,” he admitted. “I’m only a man, hardly an expert on managing females, yet with Lady Darnell’s nerves so delicate, I
hesitate to consult her even when I sometimes feel at a loss.”

It was a great relief, he found, to express some of his frustration. Which he’d been unable to voice to his stepmother without spilling details that would only upset her, nor to Charis, who was far too much Miss Lambarth’s champion ever to admit any fault in her.

“As if you did not have enough responsibilities without having to supervise so unruly a girl! Francis tells me she recently bought a most unsuitable riding hack—a horse Randall sold as being completely unreliable.”

“Yes, she managed to coax Bennett Dixon, whose judgment I would have thought more sound, into bidding on the horse for her. Not learning of the deal until it was already complete, and as I must admit she
is
a good enough rider to control the beast, I did not countermand it.”

“She should have consulted you, not Mr. Dixon!”

That glowing affirmation was balm to his injured sensibilities. At least his fiancée respected his position as head of the family and trusted his ability to manage its affairs. “’Tis done now, so I will say no more.”

“I hope that is the last of her wild starts!”

For a moment he saw Helena again in his mind’s eye, galloping away on the fractious black. Shaking his head, he sighed. “Even that horse wasn’t as bad as—”

Catching himself with a start, he closed his lips. As satisfying as it had been to air his displeasure, this story would be better kept to himself.

“There was worse?”

“Nothing, really. I should not have mentioned it.”

She patted his arm. “Dear Adam! I know you don’t wish to distress Lady Darnell with your worries, but I am made of much sterner stuff. I would be honored to receive your confidences and provide you with what I flatter myself to be a sensible female’s perspective.”

Now he really was in the basket. Searching rather desperately for an excuse Priscilla might accept, he said, “’Tis a matter of great delicacy I’d rather not mention.”

His luck was out. Looking wounded, Priscilla removed her hand from his. “I see. I had thought that as I am soon to be your wife, you would feel you could trust me, but I see I was mistaken. Excuse me for my effrontery.”

“It’s not that I don’t—” he began.

“Please, Adam, you needn’t explain. If you do not wish to consult me, that is your choice entirely.” She turned away from him, the picture of injured dignity.

Grinding his teeth at his stupidity in stumbling into this dilemma, Adam pondered what to do next. After Priscilla’s tender declaration of concern, he was loath to hurt her feelings, as he obviously had just now. She
was
to be his wife, after all. And with her punctilious standards of behavior, surely she wouldn’t wish any word of Miss Lambarth’s shocking adventure to escape, tarring as it must the family of which Priscilla would soon be a part.

Perhaps he could get by relating just a bit of the story. “If you are sure you don’t mind my imposing. I know I can count on your discretion in not repeating a syllable, even to your mother.”

Looking mollified, Miss Standish glanced back at him. “Nothing I can do for you would ever be an imposition.”

He took a deep breath. “’Tis just that I discovered Miss Lambarth has…slipped out at night to explore the city.”

Priscilla gasped and her eyes widened. “Slipped out? Without a proper chaperone, you mean? But how…how hoydenish to go about with—what, only a footman? What if someone had recognized her—or the Darnell livery?”

“She didn’t take a livried servant. And I don’t think she’d be recognized.”

“As distinctively as she dresses, and her so tall? I would not be so confident. Oh, how awful! No wonder you were so upset. Only think of poor Lady Darnell’s distress if someone saw the girl and reported back to her!”

“I’m certain there’s little likelihood of that.”

“How can you be certain? Did she have the foresight to go out cloaked and masked?”

“Ah, no. But she was…disguised.”

Miss Standish stared at him. “Disguised? As…as a servant? Oh, Adam, that’s even worse!”

“No, no, she was disguised as a lad. I’d be amazed if anyone managed to recognize her.”

Priscilla’s eyes widened ever more. “She went out into the city…dressed in
breeches?
”

Wishing now he had followed his first instinct and gone to his club, Adam nodded. “You understand why I should not wish a word of this breathed to anyone.”

“Of course not! ’Tis atrocious behavior, even for one as unprinci—unschooled as Miss Lambarth. My papa would lock me in my room on bread and water for such a stunt!”

Adam recalled Helena’s description of being forced into the blackness of the priest hole. “I rather think being restrained for too much of her life is what led her to do this in the first place,” he replied grimly.

“But you can’t mean to let her go unpunished after such a flagrant breach of decorum.”

“I can hardly punish her severely without telling Lady Darnell the reason. Something, I’m sure you’ll agree, I wish to avoid.”

“Poor lady! She’d have an attack of the vapors at least! But you must do something to show the girl that such behavior cannot be tolerated, or sooner or later, she will drag the family into a scandal that cannot be hidden.”

“Now, Priscilla, I’ve given her enough of a scold that I think she is suitably chastened.”

“And I think you are much too indulgent with her, Adam. You must not let her take advantage of your kindness and good nature—as she did the night of Mrs. Cowper’s ball, dragging you away on some ridiculous pretext.”

“’Twas no pretext. We already discussed this, my dear. I thought you understood.”

“I understood how humiliating it was to be left without an escort for half the evening while my fiancé went off with another woman—and her dressed like…like some foreign hussy!” Priscilla cried.

Though he’d never flinched on the battlefield, Adam now felt the strongest desire to cut and run. How had the discussion gotten so out of hand?

Wanting urgently to end it, he said, “Priscilla, calm yourself. Such…vehemence isn’t like you.”

Miss Standish exhaled a shuddering breath. After a moment of uneasy silence, she said, “Pray excuse me for allowing my…my feelings to run away with me. Shall we go in now? Mama will be wondering what has become of us.”

“By all means, my dear,” Adam said, wondering the same thing himself.

And he had thought the artillery barrage at Waterloo daunting. Silently wishing a pox on all women—and men foolhardy enough to confide in them—Adam led his fiancée out of the garden.

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING
, after checking his cravat one more time, Adam descended to the breakfast parlor with a small package in his hands. After extracting himself from the inquisition Miss Standish’s mother had given him about his sister’s unexpected bequest, the less probing questions and more sincere congratulations offered him when he’d finally reached his club had helped soothe his disgruntlement over Miss Lambarth’s conduct. The masculine camaraderie and several good bottles of claret, however, had not settled his unease over discovering that Priscilla held Miss Lambarth in much greater aversion than he’d thought.

Their nasty quarrel had also shocked him into realizing that, while claiming to bow to his authority, Pris
cilla was probably trying to manipulate him by her rationed kisses, her pouts—and her anger when he did not accept her advice. There was something to be said for Miss Lambarth’s directness and lack of feminine wiles.

He’d also had time to ponder why he’d been so unreasonably incensed by Helena’s gift. Her usurping of his authority and then acting without consulting him would have irritated under any circumstances, but should not have wounded him as they had.

Part of his anger, he’d decided, had been the chagrin of discovering that an outsider had realized before he did that Charis’s happiness depended on wedding Blanchard. He should have been the one to make that union happen.

More muddled were his wildly mixed feelings about having hurtled into the breach to offer for Priscilla. He’d needed to repair the family fortunes, of course, but in large part his haste had been motivated by the desire to stabilize their finances and to provide a dowry for Charis. So that she would not have to consider wealth when choosing her life’s partner.

Miss Lambarth’s bequest had rendered that sacrifice unnecessary. Would he have taken a different a path, had
he
been free to choose? For though it shamed him to admit it, another part of his anger had been a keen envy of the joy so evident on the faces of Blanchard and his sister—a joy he’d not felt at any time during his own engagement.

Finally, he’d allowed injured pride and the vanity fanned by Priscilla’s soothing words to lead him into
betraying Miss Lambarth’s trust. For that indiscretion, he was even more ashamed. And though the small gift he’d found for her was hardly recompense for so grievous an error, it helped to assuage his guilty conscience a little.

The excited chatter emanating from the breakfast parlor indicated that his sister and stepmother must be discussing wedding plans. Not hearing Miss Lambarth’s huskier tones and anxious to get the apology over with, he was relieved as he entered to spy her by the sideboard.

Elegant this time in a riding habit of sapphire velvet, she was sipping coffee and smiling at the ladies. After greeting everyone, he quickly approached her.

She started to move away as he walked up. He stayed her with a touch to her elbow—a touch that seared as if his fingertips had skimmed bare flesh instead of cloth.

Trying not to let that contact distract him, he said in a low voice, “Pray let me apologize for my hasty words yesterday! ’Twas stupid pride on my part. Your gift was discreetly done and has guaranteed the happiness of my beloved sister. Thank you again.”

To his surprise, she squeezed the hand that had touched her elbow, sending another shimmer of sensation through him. “Let me apologize in return. Though it seems obvious now, it never occurred to me to consult you.” She smiled slightly. “My previous experience has not led me to confer with anyone before taking action…nor instilled in me the belief that the head of the household’s first thought is the happiness of those in his charge. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

His heart lightening, he was about to recommend they put the matter behind them when Lady Darnell looked over. “Adam, what have you in your hand? An engagement gift?”

“No, ’tis a trifle for Miss Lambarth. After one of our previous discussions, I thought she might enjoy it.”

Lady Darnell clapped her hands. “Oh, famous! Open it at once, Helena!”

Adam stood watching as, after a surprised glance at him, she removed the tissue and stared down at items.

“’Tis a set of drawing chalks,” he explained.

“Conte and charcoal. How perfect!” Charis exclaimed. “Now she shall truly be able to display her talent.”