Lord Harry's Folly (11 page)
“An interesting thought. Ah, a pleasure my lord.” George bowed and unobtrusively snapped his fingers. A footman appeared in practically the same instant, and assisted the gentlemen out of their greatcoats.
“Kate never was a lazy sort. Is she up and about?”
George looked a trifle discomfited, Hetty thought, before he answered smoothly enough, “Yes, of course, Sir Harry. Her ladyship and lordship are in the library.”
“Excellent. You said you heard his lordship laugh? That’s good. Now, come on, Lord Harry, we don’t want to dawdle about all day. My brother-in-law doesn’t like it when I dawdle. He says it makes his bile rise.”
An embarrassed frown passed over George’s face. He called, “Don’t you want me to announce you, Sir Harry?”
“Don’t trouble yourself, George. I know my way well enough.”
The footman, Mackles, was grinning behind his white-gloved hand. George rounded on him. “Enough of your wicked loose-lipped grins, my lad. Off with you, his lordship wants this coat taken to Weston’s this very morning.”
“Damned elegant house, ain’t it?” Sir Harry asked, as they made their way down a long corridor. Hetty had no time to reply, for as they neared the library, they drew up in unison at the sound of angry voices.
“Damn you, Kate, I should thrash you to an inch of your life, then lock you in a convent. You little idiot, why didn’t you deign to tell me that”
“Don’t be stupid, Julien,” came an angry lady’s voice clearly through the closed door. “I’m some sort of fragile little miss who will fall apart just because of a little sport. You’re being altogether ridiculous acting just like a man and I won’t have it.”
“Damn you, I am a man.”
Sir Harry grinned at Lord Harry. “That’s my sister, you know. Quite a way with words, she has. She always has just the proper insults to drive Julien quite mad. She’s always making him furious, so furious in fact that he’s always kissing her and touching her. Odd that, and they’re married. Come on, let’s pull them apart.”
Hetty felt her unease grow and grabbed at Sir Harry’s sleeve. “Surely, Harry, this isn’t the time to broach the subject of my membership to his lordship. He sounds ready to kill.”
But Harry had already turned the knob to the library door and swung it open. Hetty stood rooted in the open doorway, blinking rapidly at the scene before her eyes.
A gentleman and lady stood facing each other across the expanse of a large oak desk. Of all things, the lady was dressed in tight-knitted men’s breeches and a white silk shirt. In her hand was a foil. She was young, very beautiful, her dark auburn hair flowing down her back, bound only by a narrow black ribbon. The young lady suddenly turned. “Harry.” She dropped her foil on the desktop and rushed forward. She threw her arms about Harry’s neck and hugged him hard. “Oh, my dear, it’s so good to see you again. She drew back, and Hetty saw her vivid green eyes were sparkling with pleasure. “How very smart you look, my dear, that waistcoat all those lovely yellow stripes, goodness. Oh” She drew to a halt and looked past her brother into Lord Harry’s embarrassed face.
“Now, Kate, don’t ruin my waistcoat, old girl. It is quite the thing, this waistcoat of mine. Every gentleman wants one. The tailors can’t make them fast enough, but I’m the first, don’t forget that. Ah, this is Lord Harry, a special friend of mine. My sister, Kate.”
There was no sign of discomfort on the countess’s face as she sent a dazzling smile to Lord Harry. “How very nice of you to visit, my lord. Julien, come away from the desk and say hello to your brother-in-law. Come, my dear, you haven’t seen him for a good seven weeks. Surely you’ve forgotten how he drank the best of your claret then got violently ill on the Aubusson carpet in the library, haven’t you? It isn’t just Harry, you know.”
Hetty saw that the earl of March didn’t take any offense at all. He straightened, smiled lazily at Harry and strode forward. “It’s good to see you again, Harry. Now, who is your friend here?”
“Lord Harry Monteith, Julien. You know, I wrote you about him yesterday. Dashed good fellow, and needs your backing for White’s.”
“I’m honored, my lord,” Hetty said formally, her voice as deep as she could make it, and bowed. She had the inescapable feeling that his lordship’s gray eyes saw straight through her coat, waistcoat, and shirt to her chemise. He was an extraordinarily handsome man, and as a woman, Hetty appreciated his smile in a way that Lord Harry couldn’t begin to.
“So you’re another Harry, eh?” the earl said with a smile, and pumped Hetty’s hand. He turned to Sir Harry. “As always, Harry, your timing is impeccable. Your sister and I were just having a rather heated discussion. It will be difficult, but if Kate agrees, we will turn the battleground back into a library.”
The countess lightly poked her husband’s arm, and said, “My dearest Harry, I’m becoming quite accomplished with the foil. And now, just because I’m breeding, Julien must play the possessive overbearing husband. Don’t you think it dreadful of him?”
“Breeding! That’s wonderful news, Julien, Kate. Oh my God, you’re breeding, Kate? You’re actually breeding and you’re still hopping about in boy’s clothes and fencing? I don’t believe it. Good Lord, you should be locked in a closet, for your own good.”
“No help for you from that quarter, Kate,” the earl said, his eyes resting upon his wife’s face. There was such tenderness in his gaze that Hetty felt suddenly like a chair in the middle of a crowded ballroom. “Your termagant of a sister just informed me a few minutes ago, else I would never have allowed her to batter me with her foil.”
“Batter? It was more than just battering, Julien. I had my foil at your throat at the time. But look at you now, all puffed up in your husbandly conceit. Just like a man, acting like a crowing bandy rooster, so proud of your prowess. And you, Harry, agreeing with him. I ask you, Lord Monteith, is it just for a woman to sit docilely about, doing nothing at all that is any fun, just because she is pregnant, while men issue all the orders and strut about?”
“It isn’t at all fair,” Hetty said promptly, forgetting that she was a gentleman. “I’ve heard that exercise is very beneficial for a lady who is in the family way.” Oh dear, the earl was looking at her now, and he was surprised.
Kate rounded on her husband with a crow of delight. “You see, Julien, not all gentlemen are so confoundedly staid and pompous. I insist that you back Lord Monteith instantly for White’s. How I wish that I could be a member of White’s. What sport it would be. I would wager that I would best you in fencing within six months.”
Hetty looked away from Harry’s sister to see that the earl’s eyes were still on her face. Drat the man. The earl said easily, “A most unusual stance you take, sir. A member of White’s you shall be. Perhaps your unconventional views may sway some of us more pompous, staid gentlemen to more moderate stands.”
“I thank you, my lord,” Hetty said.
“How kind of you, Julien.” The countess threw her arms about the earl’s neck and hugged him fiercely. Laughing, he clasped her about her still slender waist and lifted her above him. Her long hair swirled over her shoulders and onto his face.
“Let me down, you great brute. We mustn’t shock poor Lord Monteith. He isn’t used to your ways, my lord.”
“Your ways as well, madam,” the earl said. “Lord Monteith will learn soon enough that I must fight for every shred of male dignity. Come, Kate, should we not offer our guests some tea. Perhaps some claret for your brother? Ah, but first, let’s remove this carpet.”
But not a moment later, George entered the library carrying a beautiful silver tray that held tea and morning cakes. The earl laughed. “George helps us maintain decorum. Do sit down, Lord Monteith and take some refreshment. I assure you that we aren’t always so rough and tumble. Well, perhaps most of the time we are, but if there’s warning, then”
“You will hold your tongue, Julien,” the countess said, and took a bit of lemon seed cake.
“Dashed good cakes,” Sir Harry said, his own mouth full with his second bite.
The earl said to Hetty, “Harry here informs me that you hail from the North Country. I suppose you must find London ways a bit unusual.”
She agreed readily, thankful the earl hadn’t asked her to be more forthcoming about her specific origins. “It is different in many ways here, but I like London very much. Everyone has been most kind to me. Particularly Harry here. He’s a great friend.”
Sir Harry beamed. “Lord Harry ain’t so much the rustic anymore either. Except for his clothes, that is.”
Kate said, “Don’t be unkind, my dear. I find nothing at all wrong with Lord Monteith’s clothing. It is just that you have an overfondness for yellow-striped waistcoats and very tight breeches. Not that they don’t look well on you, for they do, the tight breeches, that is.”
“Certainly they look well on me. Now, Lord Harry his breeches are far too loose. His coats, too.”
“A grave shortcoming,” the earl said with a smile. “Harry tells me that you fence with Signore Bertioli.”
Hetty nodded, unconsciously rubbing her arm. “I have a fondness for the sport, as does, it appear, her ladyship.”
The earl said, “I have, myself, fenced with Bertioli upon occasion and found his techniques most unusual. He knows tricks that few Englishmen have ever seen. Perhaps you would care to cross foils with me, Lord Monteith.”
Hetty thought the possibility quite unlikely, if she had any say in the matter, but she smiled and nodded. “I would say that her ladyship must have first claims, my lord. If her quickness of wit is any measure of her skill, you hold in her a very worthy opponent.”
“She’s a damned brute,” Sir Harry said. “She nearly thrust her foil through my gullet once. Lord, Kate, but that seems ages ago. Goodness, Father was still alive and”
“True, Harry, and of no interest whatsoever to Lord Monteith. Tell me, sir, do you also shoot wafers at Manton’s?”
“Now no one can beat Lord Harry at that,” Sir Harry said before Hetty could even open her mouth. “Never challenge him to a duel, Julien, for I vow he could trim your sails, at least with pistols. He never misses.”
“You exaggerate, Harry.”
“Narry a bit. You must come with us to Manton’s, Julien. You can see for yourself that Lord Harry is quite the expert.”
“I just might do that,” the earl said easily, looking closely at Hetty.
When at last Hetty rose and took the countess’s hand in hers, she said simply, “Harry is an excellent friend, my lady. He has the sunniest of tempers.”
Sir Harry turned to his brother-in-law. “Now don’t forget, Julien, to take care of Lord Harry’s membership this afternoon. We’ve a wonderful celebration planned for this evening.”
“That’s a frightening thought,” the earl said. “Both of you rest assured I shall do what I’ve promised. Take care, Monteith. No doubt I shall see you at White’s.”
“Thank you, my lord, for your kindness,” Hetty said, bowing formally to the earl.
Late that same evening as the earl and countess of March lay close together in their bed, Kate nuzzled her cheek against her husband’s neck and whispered, “Now, my lord, will you allow me to continue with our fencing lessons? You must admit that it is no more strenuous than our lovemaking.”
The earl shifted so he could look into his wife’s vivid green eyes. “You think so, do you? You have your way with me, allowing me only to lie here whilst you enjoy my man’s body, then you claim this to be strenuous. If you would know the truth, this is much more like riding than fencing.”
“What a vulgar thing to say. Ah, very well, I suppose that perhaps I shouldn’t fence with all that much vigor for a while yet. At least until the babe is born.”
“I appreciate your compromise. Now, tell me what you think of Harry’s new friend.”
The countess pondered a moment then said slowly, “I think he is somewhat different from Harry’s usual friends. He seems sober and quite mature for his years. You know, Julien and do not tease me but at first I thought him to be a rather effeminate young man, for he is quite a pretty fellow. But after listening to his calm good sense, watching him handle Harry quite expertly, I must own that I like him.”
“Regardless of the fact that Lord Monteith is a pretty fellow, he has already gained something of a reputation for being a young rakehell.”
“No, Julien, you cannot mean it. Lord Monteith? Why he is modest and kind and soft spoken and”
“Harry was quick to inform me that Monteith has already installed a mistress here in town. The story goes that he found her in Lady Buxtell’s establishment, plucked her out and set her up the first night he was with her.”
“Having a mistress doesn’t necessarily make him a rakehell. He isn’t yet married. After all, my love, you had a string of mistresses in keeping before we met.”
“Well, no matter,” the earl said quickly, not wanting to fall into that quagmire. “In any case, I have seen to the young man’s membership at White’s. I don’t doubt that he and Harry have already registered Lord Monteith’s name in Henry’s famous book. I find young Monteith most interesting. Now that he is a member of White’s, I can more easily follow what I believe will be an interesting career. Now, my dear, enough of both Harrys.”
Both Harrys and Mr. Scuddimore were seated at that moment in the small dining room at White’s, toasting one another from a seemingly endless supply of champagne bottles.
“Keep the best coming,” Sir Harry said to a harried waiter, turning a wide grin on Lord Harry. “Damned fine banquet, Lord Harry. Ah, yes, another toast.”
Hetty thought of the price of this orgy of food and drink, and blanched. She knew she must keep a close watch on her purse strings, just on the off chance that Sir Archibald might inadvertently speak to his man of business. There wasn’t all that high a chance of this happening, but still A game of piquet or faro would be just the thing to cover the cost of her celebration.
Sir Harry, seven glasses of champagne swirling about in his belly, said happily, “Now that Lord Harry is officially one of us I think it’s only fair he tell us where he’s hidden his little ladybird.”