Lady Whistledown Strikes Back (16 page)

BOOK: Lady Whistledown Strikes Back
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“I’ve noticed,” Anthony said darkly. Honestly, Miss Martin needed a keeper.

She was a lovely, innocent woman just waiting for some lecherous rogue to ruin her completely. He glanced around. “Where is Lady Neeley?”

Miss Martin shrugged. “She was speaking with Mr. Thompson and Lady Mathilda, and so I quickly found a seat out of the way. I am not thrilled at how Lady Neeley is dealing with the problem of her missing bracelet, so I try and stay away when she speaks of it.”

“I have heard that she is not being subtle about accusing the people who were at her party.” Miss Martin rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it horrible?”

 

“I also noticed that you seem to be a suspect as well.” Miss Martin giggled.

 

“Oh, that is only in Lady Whistledown’s column. Lady Neeley would never accuse any of her staff.”

Most women would probably have taken to their bed, deathly ill, upon seeing their name linked to thievery in Lady Whistledown’s column. Obviously, this was not true of the giggling Miss Martin.

“Can you believe it, Lord Roxbury?” she asked now, her eyes lit from within.

“My name graced Lady Whistledown’s column. I’ve never been so thrilled in my life. I have decided that it is because of my birthday. I was a bit put out when I remembered that I was to turn thirty with so many things undone. And here it is, my birthday two weeks away and I’ve been named in a gossip column and kissed by a lord!” This last bit earned them a few glances.

“Whoops,” Miss Martin said. “I guess I should be a bit less exuberant in public, or I shall grace Lady Whistledown’s column again. I’ll take my leave then, and send around a copy of the invitation to you tomorrow.

Your father has given me a list of attendees, so I shall not need that from you.”

That was very bad. “No,” Anthony said. “I shall send you a guest list. The one my father gave you can be burned.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. And then she laughed and put her hand on his forearm as she leaned into him. “Your father seemed very determined that you should invite the people on his list.”

Anthony just nodded. Never in his life had a woman flirted with him so. And the worst part was she didn’t even realize that she was flirting.

He could see it in her eyes. She had no idea that when she leaned toward him he caught a whiff of the rose water she used. And that it was making him absolutely randy.

“I must ask you,” he said then, “are you a part of Lady Neeley’s staff?”

Miss Martin straightened and blinked. “Excuse me?” she asked.

“Well, you said before that Lady Neeley trusted everyone on her staff, and I was wondering if you were hired by her. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could swear that my father once told me you were related to Lady Neeley.”

Miss Martin smiled widely. “Really? You actually remember hearing about me?” She clapped her hands. “How lovely!”

“You are easily amused, I think.”

‘Too true.” She grinned hugely, obviously not at all put out at having a laugh about herself. “But, anyway, I am both. I am a hired relative. Lady Neeley pays me for the work I do as her companion. And she is second cousin to my mother.”

“And your mother and father are where?”

Miss Martin cocked her head to the side, her gray eyes dimming a little. “They are both gone.”

“Oh, I am sorry.”

“It’s all right. They were older when I was conceived. I feel blessed that I had a whole twenty years with them.”

Anthony glanced away for a moment. Though his mother had died twenty years before, he still had his father. The fact that he had never in his life thought of that fact as a blessing made him feel very much like a wretched toad right now.

As he looked about the room, Anthony realized that there were a few people watching him and the innocent Miss Martin. Damn.

“Why?” she asked him then.

He turned toward her again. “Excuse me?”

“Why do you want to know about my relationship to Lady Neeley? Are you worried about the party?

Do you want me to bring you some samples of my work?”

“Oh no, it is not that at all, really,” Anthony said. “I was just interested. …”

His own words stopped him. He was interested, he’d said. And it was true. He was just plain interested

in this strange creature that was Miss Martin.

Truth be told, he did not find many things interesting. Thus, he found it quite alarming that he was interested in the answers Miss Martin was giving him to his questions. On top of this rather strange phenomenon, Anthony realized that he really did want to show Miss Martin that she had not been kissed … not really, and not yet.

At the very least, the latter bit was much more true to his character.

Still, Anthony glared at Miss Martin for a moment, trying to figure out why on earth he would want to kiss her most thoroughly, as it could only ever end in some disaster— probably for both of them.

“Have I upset you, my lord?” Miss Martin asked without even a hint of fear.

“You look as if you would like to throw something, preferably me.”

“No, but I should take my leave. Your reputation is at stake.”

Miss Martin leaned forward, her shoulders shaking, and for a split second Anthony believed her to be crying. But then she straightened, her eyes dancing up at him, and he realized that she was laughing.

She kept her hand over her mouth for a moment, obviously trying to control herself. “Oh, Lord Roxbury, I have no reputation.” She waved her hand at the people around them. “Most of these people have no idea who I am. I think it is your reputation that you are afraid of ruining.” She grinned at him.

“Of course it is not.”

Miss Martin laughed. “I was only kidding. But you have already ruined your reputation in my eyes, my lord. You like everyone to believe you are the perfect scoundrel, and really, you are a perfect gentleman.”

Now there were two things he felt compelled to dissuade Miss Martin of believing: she had been properly kissed, and he was a gentleman. “I am not a perfect anything, Miss Martin, I assure you.”

“Whatever you say, my lord. Now then, I also wanted to let you know that there is a lovely Japanese display at the British Museum. If you were to go and see it, perhaps you might get some ideas for the party. Two heads are always better than just one when it comes to these types of things.” Anthony was still trying to digest the fact that this chit believed him to be a perfect gentleman. He glanced around them again and knew that Miss Martin was completely wrong. He was surely ruining her completely. “Really, Miss Martin, we should not be speaking for so long and so intensely in public.”

“Are we speaking intensely?” Miss Martin asked, her eyes widening, her voice lowering to a whisper.

She leaned closer to him. “This
is
intense, isn’t it, my lord?” She glanced around and then back at him.

He was being teased. It had been quite a long time since anyone had dared tease him, but he realized it was happening now. He rolled his eyes, and Miss Martin giggled again.

Truth be told, Anthony had never liked giggling females. But Miss Martin was different. Her giggles were not high pitched or irritating. And they were definitely not something she was using to try and make herself seem more naive and innocent. She obviously did not know how to use anything to mean something she was not. Basically, Miss Martin’s giggles were pure and soft and infectious. They made him wish to giggle as well.

Giggle, for goodness’ sake. He was most definitely going insane.

“I shall put you out of your misery, my lord,” she said then. “I need some punch anyway, my mouth is as dry as the Sahara, I swear. And I will take my leave of you. Though, I may have to do so intensely.” She peered about them, looked at him as she dramatically lifted her eyebrows, then turned with a grand sweeping gesture and left him.

In her wake, Anthony caught the faint sound of her laughter.

He shook his head as he watched her for a moment. He wished, actually, that they were alone. He wanted to keep talking with her. He wanted to make her laugh again.

Strange. He had never in his entire lifetime met a woman he’d wanted to be alone with because he’d wished to converse with her.

Anthony closed his eyes and placed the back of his hand against his forehead. Perhaps he had the fever.

 

Chapter 4

One could not help but note that Lady Neeley’s companion was perhaps the only woman not

kissed at the Hargreaves’ Ball by Lord Roxbury.

Very well, This Author refers only to hands, not lips, but truly, the man needs to be a bit more discriminate.

LADY THISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 3
JUNE 1816

 

Bella was supposed
to
be sketching. She stared at the open sketchbook in front of her and then glanced back up at the kimono on display in the museum. She squirmed, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the straight-backed chair Ozzie had found her.

Ozzie came marching up the hall that very second, a small square pillow in his hand. “I thought this

might help,” he said, offering it to her.

Bella smiled at the young man and stood. “Thank you so much, Ozzie, it is very thoughtful of you.”

A dark blush crept up Ozzie’s neck. Where most people had dark complexions or light or even yellow, Ozzie’s complexion could only be described as red.

There was a red cast to his entire visage, which made the freckles that battled for room on his face look distressingly orange.

His hair, as well, seemed

the color of a ripe orange, though in truth it was a very light blonde.

Bella took the pillow and plopped it onto the seat of the chair, then propped her sketchbook on top of it all. “I do think, though, that I shall walk a little before I continue with my sketches.”

Ozzie glanced down at the pad, “You have done a wonderful job. You are very talented.”

Bella smiled. “Thank you. Since I am always designing decorations for parties, it helps that I can draw. Still, I am not at all competent at drawing unless I’m copying something else. So, I guess you could say it’s a limited talent.” She laughed self-deprecatingly as she started walking down the hall.

Ozzie followed along beside her, and she was glad. The boy was lovely company. She had met him the week before when she had come looking for information on anything Japanese. He worked in the bowels of the museum helping to restore and preserve the artifacts on display. And he especially knew a lot about the Japanese artifacts, which had made her job much easier.

In fact, it was Ozzie who had taught her how to fold the invitations in a design the Japanese called origami.

“I do wish I could see this party that you are decorating,” he said now.

Bella stopped. “You know, I am sure that you can. Would you help me set up the party the day before? That way you can see everything when it is done.”

Ozzie’s green eyes became glassy as he nodded quickly. “Oh, yes, I would love to.”

He did remind her of an overeager puppy. Bella giggled.

“I would know that sound anywhere,” a soft male voice said from behind them.

Bella jumped and Ozzie slouched. “Well, my goodness!” Bella said. ” ‘Tis Lord Roxbury, as I live and breathe.” She tried very hard to sound nonchalant, which was extremely difficult seeing that every single nerve in her body had started to vibrate, of all things.

Bella pressed her fingers against her chest, wondering if she was about to collapse from apoplexy, with her heart apparently beating much too fast.

“I came to take in the Japanese exhibit you informed me of, Miss Martin,” he said, his eye roving slowly over Ozzie until the boy babbled an unintelligible excuse and scuttled away.

Lord Roxbury watched Ozzie fleeing for a minute, and then turned his full attention on Bella. Goodness, being on the receiving end of Lord Roxbury’s full attention was quite daunting, Bella decided. No wonder Ozzie had scampered off like a mouse faced with the largest cat in Christendom. His brown eyes, which she distinctly remembered admiring because they always had a glint of humor in them, had most definitely lost that glint. He seemed to be in a bad mood, actually. And Bella had to curb an intense urge to brush the shock of brown hair off his forehead and ask him what the matter was.

Instead she clasped her hands together tightly in front of her, as a precaution.

“Did you get your invitation, my lord?” she asked with a smile.

“Yes, as did my father. He was quite over the moon about the unique design.”

Bella smiled. “Oh, lovely, I’m so glad.”

“Yes, unfortunately, though, my father was not on my invitation list.”

“Ah, well, I took it upon myself to combine your list and your father’s list, so that meant he did receive an invitation.”

“Really? I’m paying for this party, but my father gets to decide who comes?”

Lord Roxbury asked.

“No, not entirely.” Bella tightened her hold on her own fingers. “I did notice that each of you had extremes on your lists.”

“Extremes?”

“Well, that is to say, I noticed that your father’s list was made up of very young unmarried ladies and their mothers, and your list was predominantly made up of men and older married women,” Bella said.

“And?”

“And so I cut out the extremes and meshed the middles together. That way you have a much better mix of people.”

Lord Roxbury nodded his head but said nothing for a long moment. “Do you not think,” he said finally, “that you have rather overstepped your bounds, Miss Martin?”

“Not at all. I am here to make your party a success, and that meant I definitely had to take charge of the invite list. If it bothers you that much, my lord, I shall quit this job.”

“I never exactly hired you.”

“Exactly,” Bella said with a smile. “Your father asked Lady Neeley to allow me to help you. Because of that, I did feel it necessary that I take some notice of his list and not just burn it, as you suggested. But since it is, ultimately, your party, I wanted to invite people on your list as well.”

“In other words, you are acting the diplomat to my father and me?” Lord Roxbury asked.

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