Mischief (10 page)

As he watched her, it seemed to Matthias that his senses suddenly became more acute. He was aware of the flowery scents of the garden that wafted through the open French doors behind him. The candles massed in the huge chandeliers blazed a little brighter. The hum of conversation was harsher than it had been a few minutes before. And every other man in the crowd suddenly appeared predatory. Matthias knew that last observation was not solely a figment of his overheated imagination.

“I wonder if she thinks to find a husband,” Selena mused. “Perhaps her aunt has convinced her that the inheritance she received recently will be enough to induce some desperate gentleman to make an offer. Which is quite possible.”

Matthias brought his teeth together in an almost audible snap. Imogen had to know that the scandal of three years past had been resurrected in a matter of minutes. The Waterstone family’s distant connection to the Marquess of Blanchford could get her back into Society, but it could not keep Society from gossiping. The whispers must have reached her by then, just as they had reached him.

He studied her closely. From where he stood she appeared unfazed by the talk that was roiling around her. It only went to prove that there was little that could intimidate Imogen.

He watched her with increasing admiration as she and Horatia made their way across the floor. He knew full well what it was like to enter a ballroom and hear an unpleasant epithet attached to one’s name. It took courage to walk through this lot. How the devil was he to discourage her from carrying out her reckless scheme, when she demonstrated such a degree of raw nerve? he wondered.

“Colchester?”

Matthias pulled his attention back to Selena, who was watching him with an odd expression. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

“I asked if there was something wrong.”

“Wrong? Not at all.” Matthias set his half-finished champagne glass down on a nearby tray. “Please excuse me, I have an urge to discover whether or not Miss Waterstone is, indeed, searching for a husband.”

Selena’s lovely mouth fell open in shock. Matthias realized that he had never seen such a startled expression on her face. He almost laughed aloud.

“Colchester, you cannot be serious!” Selena recovered her poise with some difficulty. “What on earth are you about? Never say that you are interested in Imogen Waterstone as a potential wife. My lord, I just told you, the gossip about her is most unpleasant.”

“I rarely listen to gossip, Selena. I have heard far too much of it about myself to put any credence in it.”

“But, Colchester, she was caught in a bedchamber with Vanneck, for God’s sake. No man in your position would possibly consider making an offer for Immodest Imogen. It’s not as though you need her money. Everyone knows you’re as rich as Croesus these days.”

“If you will excuse me, Selena, I must see about arranging an introduction.”

He turned on his heel and strode straight into the first of several tightly wound skeins of people that cluttered the room. The knots in his path unraveled as if by magic as he approached. Matthias felt the riveted gazes follow him in avid speculation as he charted a clear course toward Imogen and Horatia.

He arrived at the edge of the growing circle that surrounded the pair at the same moment that Fletcher, Lord Vanneck, reached it.

Vanneck was so intent on Imogen that he did not see Matthias until he nearly trod on the toe of one of Matthias’s brilliantly polished Hessians.

“Beg your pardon,” Vanneck muttered as he maneuvered for a better vantage point. Then he recognized Matthias. Surprise flared in his heavily lidded eyes. “Colchester.” Wary curiosity replaced the initial startled expression on his face. “Heard you were in Town. What the devil brings you here? Thought you couldn’t stand this sort of affair.”

“Everyone seems to be asking me the same question tonight. I am beginning to find it monotonous.”

Vanneck flushed. His thin mouth tightened angrily at the rebuff. “Sorry.”

“Pay me no mind, Vanneck. I am preoccupied with another matter this evening.”

“Indeed.”

Matthias ignored the deepening speculation in Vanneck’s eyes. He had never cared for the man. Their paths crossed on occasion not only because Vanneck was a member of the Zamarian Society but because he also belonged to one or two of Matthias’s clubs.

Matthias knew that Vanneck had once been accounted a handsome man by the ladies of the ton. But he was in his mid-forties now and the years of heavy drinking and debauched living had taken their toll. He had grown thick around the middle and jowls had softened his formerly square jaw.

Matthias watched as Imogen was introduced to their hostess, the plump, cheerful Letitia, Lady Blunt. It was obvious that Horatia and Letty were old friends. The two women were bubbling together like two pots on a stove. Letty was clearly thrilled at the stir she had created with her unexpected guests. Her ball would be on everyone’s lips in the morning. Horatia had chosen the first invitation well.

“Imogen Waterstone,” Vanneck offered. “Hasn’t been in Town for some three years now. She was a friend of my late wife’s.”

Matthias slanted him a brief glance. “So I’ve heard.”

Vanneck scowled. “You know her?”

“Let’s just say that I know enough about her to seek an introduction.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Vanneck muttered. “Woman’s an oddity.”

Matthias had a vision of this dissipated, self-indulgent bastard luring Imogen to a bedchamber and had to repress an almost overpowering urge to plant a fist in Vanneck’s meaty face. He made himself turn away and push through the last circle of onlookers.

Imogen, who had been listening politely as Horatia and Letty exchanged news, brightened at the sight of him. Matthias smiled faintly.

“Colchester.” Letty beamed at him. His presence there was a great coup, and she was well aware of what she owed him. In a single stroke he had made her a hostess to be reckoned with.

“Letty.” Matthias bowed over her plump, gloved hand. “My congratulations on a most entertaining affair.
May I impose upon you for an introduction to your new guests?”

Letty’s round face glowed with delight. “But of course, my lord. Allow me to present my great, good friend, Mrs. Horatia Elibank, and her niece, Imogen Waterstone. Ladies, the Earl of Colchester.”

Matthias smiled reassuringly into Horatia’s anxious eyes as he bowed over her hand. “A pleasure, Mrs. Elibank.” He let his gaze glide across Imogen’s eager face.

“My lord.” Horatia cleared her throat. “You’ll be interested to learn that my niece is a student of ancient Zamar.”

“Indeed.” Matthias took Imogen’s gloved hand. He recalled the script Imogen had provided in her morning note. “What a coincidence. So am I.”

Imogen’s eyes danced in triumphant approval as he quoted the proper opening lines. “Sir, are you by any chance the Lord Colchester who discovered lost Zamar and made it more fashionable than ancient Egypt?”

“I am certainly Colchester.” Matthias decided it was time to depart from the script. “As for Zamar, I can only say that it came into fashion simply because it is Zamar.”

Imogen’s gaze narrowed slightly at his improvised lines, but she stuck determinedly to her own role. “I am delighted to meet you, my lord. I believe we have much to discuss.”

“There is no better time than now to begin the conversation. Will you honor me with this dance?”

She blinked in surprise. “Oh, yes, of course, sir.”

With a nod to Horatia, Matthias reached out to take hold of Imogen’s arm. He missed by several inches, as she had already started off through the crowd. He managed to catch up with her just as she reached the crowded dance floor.

Imogen turned smartly, stepped into his arms, and immediately swept him into an energetic waltz.

“It has begun.” Excitement lit her eyes. “I was greatly relieved to see you here tonight, sir.”

“I merely followed instructions.”

“Yes, I know, but I confess I was a trifle concerned that you might have succumbed to your doubts about my scheme.”

“I was rather hoping that you might have had a few qualms yourself by now, Imogen.”

“Not at all.” She cast a quick, searching glance from side to side and then steered him toward a quieter corner of the floor. “Have you seen Vanneck?”

“He’s here.” Being led about the dance floor by his partner was something of a novelty, Matthias reflected.

“Excellent.” Imogen’s hand tightened around Matthias’s fingers. “Then he will have taken note of your sudden interest in me?”

“He and everyone else in the room. I do not generally make it a habit to be seen at this sort of thing.”

“All the better. Aunt Horatia is planting the tale of the Queen’s Seal in Lady Blunt’s ear even as we speak. She will inform her that Uncle Selwyn left the map to me. Word will spread quickly. I expect Vanneck will hear the rumors tonight, or tomorrow at the very latest.”

“No doubt, given the way gossip moves through Society,” Matthias agreed grimly.

“As soon as he learns that I possess the key to the Queen’s Seal, he will recall how you seized upon the opportunity to gain an introduction to me at the earliest opportunity.” Imogen smiled with satisfaction. “He will immediately wonder why you would bother to do so. He will then conclude that there is only one obvious reason you would make it a point to meet me so quickly.”

“The Queen’s Seal.”

“Precisely.”

Matthias studied her obliquely. “There is another reason for my seeking an introduction tonight, you know.”

She gave him a baffled look. “What is that, my lord?”

“I told you, Society believes me to be hunting for a wife.”

Her face cleared. “Oh, yes. You did mention something
along those lines. But no one is likely to conclude that you have fixed your interest on me for that reason.”

“Why not?”

She frowned. “Don’t be dense, Colchester. No one will expect you to be seriously interested in me as a wife. Do not concern yourself, sir. Society will assume exactly what we wish it to assume. You are after my map.”

“If you say so.” Conscious of their audience, Matthias smiled to conceal his exasperation. “I suppose there is no hope of talking you out of this plan?”

“None whatsoever, my lord. Indeed, I am very pleased with the way the thing has begun. Try not to fret. I shall see to it that you are not placed in any danger.”

“If there is no possibility of convincing you to give up your scheme, is there any chance that I can persuade you to let me lead?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I know it is somewhat boring and conventional, but I was taught to lead when I waltz with a lady.”

“Oh.” Imogen blushed a vivid shade of pink. “Forgive me, my lord. I am somewhat out of practice. I hired an instructor three years ago. He was French. The French are very skilled at that sort of thing.”

“So I’ve heard.” Out of the corner of his eye Matthias saw Vanneck hovering on the fringes of the crowd. He was watching Imogen with unmistakable interest.

“Philippe said that I had a natural aptitude for assuming the lead on the dance floor.”

“Philippe?”

“Philippe D’Artois, my French dancing instructor,” Imogen explained.

“Ah, yes. The dancing instructor.”

Imogen demurely lowered her lashes. “Philippe said he found it quite thrilling to have the lady take the lead.”

“Indeed?”

She cleared her throat discreetly. “He said it heated the blood in his veins. The French are inclined to be romantic, you know.”

“Indeed.”

Matthias was suddenly consumed by a fierce desire to know a great deal more about Imogen. He needed to find a place where they could have a private conversation, he decided. The gardens, perhaps.

By dint of brute strength, he managed to bring her to a halt at the edge of the floor. “Can I interest you in a breath of fresh air, Miss Waterstone?”

“Thank you, but I do not feel the need of any fresh air.”

“Nonsense.” He wrapped his fingers very firmly around her elbow and propelled her forcibly in the direction of the doors that opened onto the gardens. “It is quite warm in here.”

“Truly, sir, I am not at all overheated.”

“I am.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I expect it was the thrill of having you take the lead on the dance floor. You did tell me that it has a tendency to overheat the blood.”

“Oh.” Comprehension dawned on her face. “Yes, indeed. I quite understand. Fresh air is exactly what you require, sir.”

Matthias plowed through the crowd with Imogen in tow. Just before he reached the doors, he was obliged to veer left to avoid an encounter with a cluster of curious onlookers.

It was the sudden change of direction that apparently caused the small disaster. Imogen was unprepared. She collided with a footman carrying a tray of champagne glasses.

There was a sharp exclamation from the footman. The tray slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. Glasses crashed and shattered. Champagne sprayed the gowns of the ladies who stood closest to the scene of the accident.

One of the ladies, Matthias saw, was Theodosia Slott.
Her eyes widened at the sight of him. Her mouth parted in shock. She put a hand to her full bosom.

“
Colchester
.” Theodosia gave a muffled gasp, went quite pale, and slid to the floor in a graceful swoon.

“Bloody hell,” Matthias said.

An uproar ensued. The gentlemen looked nonplussed. They glanced from the fallen Theodosia to Matthias and back again with confused expressions. Several ladies sprang into action. They reached for their vinaigrettes even as they turned their deliciously horrified gazes on Matthias.

“On second thought, Miss Waterstone—” Matthias paused when he saw that Imogen had gone to her knees to help the footman pick up the broken glass. He hauled her effortlessly upright again. “I believe it’s time to leave. This affair is about to become exceedingly dull. Let’s find your aunt and call your carriage.”

“But I’ve only just arrived.” Imogen peered back over her shoulder as Matthias marched her away from the shattered glass and the fallen woman. “Who is that odd lady? I do believe she fainted at the sight of you, sir.”