Lord Scoundrel Dies (26 page)

‘Very fetching,’ his lordship pronounced.
‘Say what you will about your aunt but she has an eye for what
suits you.’

‘Thank you
so
much,’ Harry said
sweetly. ‘Most gentlemen just make their bow and discuss the
weather but nobody could accuse you of following the dreary,
well-worn path of the commonplace.’

‘Sarcasm?’ he said thoughtfully, looking at
Mr. Lampforth who grinned amiably.

‘As like as not.’

‘I’ve noticed that Miss Honeywood often
derides my behavior, which is rather hurtful. Can you see anything
wrong with me complimenting her on her dress?’

‘Oh, was that a compliment?’ Harry inquired.
‘For myself or my aunt’s undoubted good taste?’

‘Both of you, of course.’ He glanced towards
Sarah, whose head was bent close to several other young ladies, no
doubt sharing gossip. Happily, they had yet to spot Lord Talisker
who was as nectar to a bee, if the bee happened to be a young,
impressionable female. Harry often found their conversations
interrupted by breathless young – and not so young – women who
spent considerable time fluttering their eyelashes and hanging on
his every word. ‘You are returning the pin tonight?’

‘Indeed. Lady Mountford has organized a
picnic by the river.’

‘So I have heard. Why these matronly women
like to organize such events when they have perfectly good homes to
entertain in, I’ll never understand,’ his lordship said cheerfully.
‘Invariably there are one or two people who have too much to drink
and fall in the water.’

‘I’ll try not to do so. The point is that I
will return the pin tonight.’

He nodded. ‘I will be there, of course.’

‘Of course,’ she agreed, a little
ironically. ‘And you, Charlie? Are you coming too?’

‘I don’t suppose I received an invitation
but I might wander by anyway. Celebrate with a glass of
champagne.’

‘Well, we still have Mr. Crompton to deal
with before that is the case but I suppose we can more or less
consider ourselves done,’ Harry agreed with some satisfaction.

‘I don’t know what I’m
going to do for amusement when it
is
done,’ Lord Talisker shook his
head and lifted an eyebrow at Harry. ‘Do you?’

There was something in his voice, a curious
note that made her feel decidedly warmer than the weather
warranted. Her imagination, of course. Either that or he was
teasing her in a manner that she could not quite comprehend. Lately
she had felt as if that were happening frequently. He would say
something that left her confused, uncertain about his meaning. It
was undoubtedly due to the fact that he was far more sophisticated
than she was but it was just one more thing that convinced her that
the sooner their relationship was over, the better it would be for
her state of mind.

‘Do you know, it’s only been a little over a
week since we found Sutton’s body?’ Charlie said, breaking the
curious tension that had suddenly sprung up between his companions.
‘It feels like this business has been going on forever. I’m half
inclined to agree with you Talisker – I have found the whole thing
rather amusing.’

‘Even your nocturnal visitor?’ Harry
inquired, with a smile.

‘As I didn’t have a knife stuck into me,
then yes, even that,’ he agreed then, dropping his voice. ‘Careful.
We’ve been spotted.’

He was referring to Sarah who had finally
looked around and noticed that her cousin was no longer alone.
Predictably, it wasn’t just Sarah who joined them and suddenly the
group had swelled to quite a crowd. As there could be no possible
opportunity for further confidences, they began making their way
towards the exit, Talisker falling into step beside her. Harry did
not remonstrate with him; she had given up doing so for she
suspected he enjoyed her annoyance at his antics far too much.
Besides, it was surprising how easy it was to get used to having
his tall figure beside her. They paused at the exit and she gave
him a wry look.

‘Thank you for escorting us.’

‘Oh, it was a pleasure,’ he returned, his
voice taking on a deep, almost sultry growl that he occasionally
turned on and which inevitably made her shiver a little. It was
extraordinary how the tone of this man’s voice could manage to
raise the fine hairs on the back of her neck. In their last few
meetings he had taken to flirting with her and then to flirting
even more outrageously, which did not help the situation at all. ‘I
will look forward to our next meeting.’

And taking her hand, he raised it to his
lips, turning it over at the last moment so he could press a kiss
against the sensitive skin of her inner wrist. The warmth of his
lips sent a jolt of something dark and delicious through her and
she stared at him, unnerved. With a wicked smile he returned her
hand to her, made his bow to the ladies with her and, taking Mr.
Lampforth in hand, strolled off down the street.

‘Well!’ Eleanor Martingale turned wide blue
eyes towards Harry. ‘I can see it is only a matter of time before
the banns will be announced. You must be very excited, Miss
Honeywood.’

Excitement was not something that Harry
could lay claim to. She smiled weakly. ‘Oh… well, nothing is
definite, of course.’

‘Oh I think it is,’
Felicity Holt said with a giggle. ‘You lucky thing! Talisker is so…
so delightful. I am entirely jealous and
I
have just been betrothed to my Mr.
Finchley.’

‘Now, now,’ Sarah said, patting her cousin’s
arm. ‘Harriet does not like to dwell on it. I think she’s a little
superstitious, just in case his lordship doesn’t come up to
scratch.’

Harry managed to keep the smile on her face,
wondering if she should be grateful to her cousin or incensed. It
could not be denied that Sarah had taken on a very proprietorial
manner regarding Harry’s supposed romance for most people assumed
she would have the truth of the matter and it had made her very
popular. Harry was regretting not taking her cousin into her
confidence from the very beginning for she could have helped
deflect the talk but it was too late now.

Only one more night and then there is no
need for his lordship to be hovering around me any longer. Unless
he enjoys making my life unpleasant. Actually, he probably does
enjoy it…

She had no idea what life would look like
when Talisker was no longer bestowing his particular attentions on
her. No doubt people would be very sympathetic. But the sympathy
bestowed on inadequate debutantes was difficult to take as it was
so often tinged with malice. She had received the impression that a
great many people had been taken aback that a little country cousin
who had arrived too late to even be presented at court, should stir
the interest in so impressive a specimen as Talisker. It would
probably come as a relief when he abandoned her.

The idea of his
lordship
abandoning
her was ridiculous, of course. There wasn’t anything to
abandon. They didn’t have a romance. They did have a friendship of
sorts, she supposed. Would that survive the end of their unlikely
alliance? It would hardly make her life any easier if it did, for
all of Society would still be waiting for something that was never
going to take place.

‘Ignore them,’ Sarah said cheerfully as they
set off towards St James Square and home. ‘They are just
jealous.’

‘I cannot believe how much attention this
whole thing has created,’ Harry muttered. ‘It’s extremely
uncomfortable.’

‘Only you, Harriet Honeywood, would find
such attention unpleasant,’ her cousin said, unconsciously echoing
Lord Talisker’s earlier words. ‘Enjoy it. I know if I had the
divine Lord Talisker sniffing around me I would relish every moment
of it. The way he kissed your hand.’ She shook her head. ‘It was
just so romantic. Did it make you tingle all over?’

Tingle all over? Well that
was
one
way of
putting it. ‘He’s not serious,’ Harry said crossly. ‘And I do wish
everybody wouldn’t keep making a fuss about it. I’m going to look
completely foolish when nothing comes of it.’

‘Good Lord Harry, as if nothing will come of
it. He looked as if he wanted to devour you back there!’

Which made Lord Talisker an exceptionally
good actor. He should have been on the stage. She wondered if she
could make a strategic retreat back to her parents’ home for a few
weeks to let the whole thing blow over. Surely she could come up
with some excuse that would see her out of harm’s way for a short
amount of time?

It was a cowardly thought, of course. Harry
wasn’t accustomed to take the easy way out of any situation. But
there was nothing in the least bit easy about the unreal
expectations that people had formed about her relationship with
Talisker. Sometimes it was better to beat a strategic retreat
rather than try and survive a battle one was ill equipped for.

Charlie had almost decided not to go to the
Mountford picnic, knowing full well that it would be a complete hum
but he changed his mind at the last minute on a whim. Harry would
be returning her last piece and he couldn’t help but feel that it
would be a pity to miss it.

Accordingly, at ten o’clock he strolled
along to the enormous marquee Lady Mountford had had erected beside
the Serpentine. As expected, half of London seemed to have turned
out and there was a great deal of giggling females and, rather
distastefully, giggling dandies for Lady Mountford was known for
her taste for pretty boys and cultivated flocks of them. Such
occasions were usually very popular with the young for there was
rather less supervision than there might be and more than a few
illicit kisses were exchanged in the shadows beneath the trees.
While he had not received an invitation, Charlie wasn’t at all
worried about being challenged; he was prepared to wager that half
the people there hadn’t received invitations and had merely come
along for the wine and the potential for mischief.

To keep with the theme of a picnic, enormous
rugs had been spread out around which ran low padded chairs and
benches. Liveried servants served food on china plates, poured
champagne into crystal glasses while people came and went, behaving
like children let out in the garden after a long confinement.

‘Good to see we’re all getting back to
nature, then,’ Charlie muttered, shaking his head at the flagrant
absurdity of this open air feast. Apart from the fact that a body
of water lay not thirty feet away – invisible, thanks to the
artificial light provided – this entire affair was no different
than what might be expected in any house. Except there were
bugs.

Charlie glanced around, trying to spot
Harry. He caught sight of her at the far end of the marquee,
accompanied by Lady Astley and her cousin, Sarah, who were standing
near their hostess. Never the retiring wallflower, Lady Mountford
reposed on a Romanesque chaise lounge upholstered in purple satin,
wine glass in hand as she laughed immoderately at something amusing
the exquisite Mr. Ffynnon was whispering in her ear. Mr. Blanchard
Ffynnon wore almost as much makeup as his hostess, rouged cheeks, a
small black patch pressed high on his cheekbone, aping a look that
was popular twenty years before when the fashion had been for wigs
and an overabundance of satin. He even affected a lisp. Charlie
thought, as he always did when he saw the elaborately turned out
Mr. Ffynnon, that the poor fool looked like an idiot and resisted a
vague, but ever present, urge to plant his boot up Ffynnon’s
behind.

Harry, staring at the spectacle of the young
dandy fluttering a fan before his face, appeared transfixed and as
Charlie approached he could see her expression was one of
astonishment. It was not an unreasonable reaction. Ffynnon’s antics
would make any right-minded individual nauseous. He edged around
the side of the marquee, stepping past a crowd of people, but when
he drew close enough he saw that Harry was no longer where she had
been a few moments before. Lady Astley and her daughter were still
visible, caught up in conversation but Harry was no longer near
them.

‘Now where the devil did she go?’ he
murmured. It seemed likely that she had chosen this moment to make
her move. No doubt she would be sneaking around the back of that
chaise lounge, taking the opportunity to slip the pin into Lady
Mountford’s reticule.

What to do? Did he follow on or wait where
he was? He didn’t want to queer her pitch. Moving slowly forward
until he was at the end of the marquee, he squinted at the
flickering shadows created by the tall, rather smoky lanterns that
burned on long bamboo poles. It seemed that Lady Mountford had not
been able to select a single theme and so she had gone for a medley
of anything that hinted at the exotic. He could not see Harry and
he took several steps beyond the overhang of the marquee roof to
look around.

He did see her then, but he
hesitated for she was not alone. A tall, slim girl stood beside her
and they appeared to be deep in conversation, heads close
together.
Is that Olivia Messingham? Why
the devil would she be talking to Harry?
After a moment, the girl led Harry off, hand on her arm as if
to guide her, moving away from the bright circle of lights and
heading towards the water that could be heard lapping faintly
nearby.

Charlie watched them go uncertainly. He did
not like to intrude on what looked like a private conversation but
he felt uneasy for some reason. There had been something odd about
that low voiced conversation, something unnatural about the way
Olivia Messingham had bent towards Harry…

But surely he was mistaken? Obviously Miss
Messingham had wanted a private word with Harry and had taken the
opportunity to speak to her privately. His best bet was to stay
where he was and wait for her to come back.