Regency Innocents (19 page)

At the thought, a whimper escaped her throat.

The stranger's head jerked back. For a moment he simply stood, gazing down at her, his chest heaving with each hoarse breath he took. And then he astounded her by reaching out, almost tenderly, to brush away a tear that was trickling down her cheek.

She did not even know at what point during the assault she had started to cry.

Aren't you going to slap me?' he mocked, withdrawing slightly.

Heloise grabbed the chair back as the world seemed to lurch crazily, flinging her completely off balance.

‘Non,'
she grated, shaking her head. ‘I deserved it.' She
had just responded lustfully to a drunken stranger's lecherous groping! ‘I am a slut,' she gasped in shock. Sinking to the chair, she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.

H
eloise flinched when a large male hand landed clumsily on her shoulder.

‘Oh, Robert!' She sighed in relief on recognising it was his form looming out of the shadows, and not her assailant's. ‘P … please take me home!'

She was still shaking with reaction, unable to form coherent replies to any of Captain Fawley's questions until they were safely shut inside the coach and on their way home.

On hearing the bald facts, Robert became so angry it was all she could do to prevent him turning the coach round and hunting the man down.

‘It was my fault—all my fault,' she insisted. ‘I never want to go to such a place again.'

‘I did not want to go in the first place,' he retorted. ‘From now on let me decide where we go, if you must go out with me and not your husband!'

As if she had any choice! The mere mention of her husband's neglect sent her into fresh floods of tears. When they reached Walton House she was in no state to argue when Robert steered her into his rooms, sat her firmly on the sofa, and pressed a drink into her hands.

‘If you think you fared badly,' he drawled, easing himself onto a chair opposite her, ‘you should hear what I suffered at the hands of the Pink Domino.'

She was sure that he was inventing more than half of the amusing story he went on to tell her, but by the time he had finished, and her drink was all gone, she had stopped shaking.

She even managed a wavering smile for him when, a little later still, she reached the half-landing and looked down to see him standing in the hallway, watching her with a troubled frown.

‘I will be fine,' she assured him.

Though she did not believe the lie herself.

From then on, guilt and shame hung over her like a pall wherever she went, no matter how gaily she forced herself to smile.

If it were not for the importance of pushing Robert back into the circle of friends who were restoring him to health and vigour, she would have stayed in her rooms. Preferably in bed, with the covers drawn up over her head.

But she could not let him down too. She might be useless as a wife, but at least she was doing Robert some good.

She glanced across the crowded, stuffy room to the group of young men surrounding him tonight, earnestly discussing the latest news from France. Surreptitiously she crept away to find a quiet corner, where she could nurse her bruised spirits in relative peace.

Heloise did not notice the malevolent look Mrs Kenton arrowed her way, but the Honourable Percy Lampton did. Swiftly he made his way to Mrs Kenton's side.

‘We have not spoken before—' he began.

‘I am free to speak to anyone,' Mrs Kenton interrupted him, ‘since I broke with Walton.'

Percy Lampton was a younger scion of the side of the family she had been strictly forbidden by Charles to have anything to do with, if she valued her position.

‘Even his wife?' Lampton said snidely. ‘I don't think he would like to hear how you've been tormenting her.' He clucked his tongue reprovingly. ‘Letting her think you are still in his keeping. In fact, I wonder at your daring. It can only be a matter of time before Walton finds out what you have been about, and when he does …'

‘Are you threatening me?' She wrenched her eyes from Heloise to glare at him.

‘Far from it.' He sidled closer. ‘I am just wondering how far you would be prepared to go in your quest for revenge. It is revenge you want, is it not? Though why you feel entitled to seek it …' He shook his head in mock reproof. ‘You must have known he would marry eventually. And that it could never be to a woman like you.'

Tears of chagrin stung her eyes. ‘It would not have been so bad if she had been beautiful, or wealthy, or even from a good family. But to think he cast me off for
that
!' She gesticulated wildly in Lady Walton's direction.

Snagging a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, Lampton drew Mrs Kenton into a small antechamber.

‘And what am I left with?' she continued, having downed the drink in one gulp. ‘I was completely faithful to him, let other opportunities slip through my fingers for him, and now I have to start all over again …'

‘In direct competition with nubile young nymphs like Nell.' He nodded sympathetically.

‘I am still an attractive woman!' she spat at him.

All he did was raise one eyebrow, and she subsided. They both knew her career was in terminal decline.

‘If it is any consolation to you, I happen to know that
Walton married as he did purely to spite my family. Before he took off for Paris there were moves afoot to bring him back into the fold.' He smiled wryly. ‘We had exactly what you described—a beautiful young woman of good family, who was also incidentally in our pockets—lined up to marry him. Is it so surprising he went off and married the first plain, poor foreigner he came across? She is Walton's little rebellion, nothing more. It must be obvious to you that Walton has no strong feelings for her personally. He has done the bare minimum required to stem speculation by arranging her presentation and squiring her to a few
ton
events. But on those occasions the chilliness of his demeanour towards her has been marked.'

‘Has it?' Mrs Kenton had never actually seen them together, since she did not have an entrée to the upper echelons of society.

‘Most marked.' Lampton grinned. ‘And can you wonder at it? She is teetering on the verge of social ruin, coming to places like this. All she would need is one little push …'

Her eyes flashing with malice, she purred, ‘What do you want me to do?'

‘May I join you?'

Heloise looked up in annoyance. Just because she was sitting on her own, why did men assume she would welcome their attention? Did she have a sign pinned to her gown, saying ‘This woman is a slut. Feel free to insult her?'

‘I would prefer you did not,' she huffed, snapping her fan open and waving it before her face.

‘Ah, I see you recognise me,' the man said cheerfully, taking the vacant seat beside her. ‘But don't you think it a little silly to carry the feud so far? I can understand why
Walton should not wish to have anything further to do with his mother's relatives, given their shoddy behaviour towards his brother,' the man persisted, ‘but I had nothing to do with all that. I had not even been born!'

‘You are of the family I am not supposed to acknowledge?' she guessed, examining his face properly for the first time. There was a strong resemblance, now she was looking for it. He was of the same height and build as Charles, though a good few years younger. His eyes were the same clear, pale blue, fringed with golden lashes. As they rested steadily on her, something about the coldness of his regard began to make her feel uneasy. And then, over his shoulder, she noticed Nell looking from one to the other of them, before scuttling off, wringing her hands in distress.

‘Come, my lady,' he said, leaning closer. ‘Why shouldn't we be friends? It is not as if your husband even has to know. I dare say he does not know the half of what you get up to, hmm?'

The knowing tone of his voice, the way he slid one arm along the back of her chair while extending one leg so that she felt trapped by his body, was jarringly familiar. Could this be the man who had kissed her at the masquerade?

‘I am sure he does not know you attend bachelor parties alone, or that Captain Fawley has introduced you to gaming hells, does he?'

His smile was predatory, chilling her to the core. He must have been watching her every move, just waiting for the opportunity to strike.

‘P … please, sir,' she begged him. ‘Do not persecute me like this!'

‘Oh, Lady Walton—there you are!' a female voice cut in.

Looking up, Heloise saw Mrs Kenton standing over them, with Nell hovering anxiously behind her.

‘I have been looking for you everywhere. Have you forgot you promised to partner my friend at cards?'

‘Oh, yes,' she replied, jumping hastily to her feet. She glimpsed a scowl marring the stranger's handsome features as she made her escape.

‘Have you no sense?' Mrs Kenton hissed, as soon as they were far enough from her persecutor for him not to hear. ‘Consorting with your husband's enemies? Don't you know how foolish it is to antagonise a man of his temperament?'

‘I didn't know who he was when he sat down!' Heloise protested. ‘And anyway, I tried to make him go away.'

‘That was not what it looked like from where I was standing,' Mrs Kenton sneered. ‘He had his arm round you! And you just sat there!'

What was she supposed to have done? Heloise had no experience of men approaching her with such determination and lack of respect.

Mrs Kenton would have known exactly how to put him off, a little voice whispered in her head. No! No, she would rather die than ask That Woman for advice. It was bad enough to suffer the humiliation of having to thank her for coming to her rescue. Which she could scarcely bring herself to do.

‘I did not do it for you,' Mrs Kenton replied. ‘But for Nell. She seemed to feel it was her fault Percy Lampton had cornered you. But if you will choose to loiter in secluded corners, what can you expect? Look, if you don't want predators like Lampton pawing at you, the thing to do is stay in full view, preferably in the company of several other people, engaging in some innocuous pastime like playing cards.'

She dragged Heloise into the card room, indicating the small knots of players grouped around the various tables. Plastering an alluring smile to her face, she approached two gentlemen who appeared to be waiting for her.

‘Good evening Lord Matthison, Mr Peters,' she said, ushering Heloise towards the green baize table. ‘I hope we have not kept you waiting too long?' Smoothing her skirts, Mrs Kenton took a seat opposite the older of the pair, a florid-faced, bewhiskered gentleman with a claret-stained cravat.

His companion, a dark, lean young man, regarded Heloise through world-weary eyes. ‘May I hope you are at least a competent player?'

Heloise shrugged as she took her seat opposite him. Much as she hated to admit Mrs Kenton was correct, she would feel safer waiting for Robert in here, pretending to play cards, than falling prey to men like Lampton. ‘I do not know. What game do we play?'

‘Whist,' the whiskered gentleman grinned. ‘And Lord Matthison boasted he could beat me, no matter who Mrs Kenton found to partner him!'

‘Oh,' she sighed in relief. If her partner was such a good player, her lack of skill would not matter. ‘I have never played whist before, my lord. Is it difficult to learn?'

Lord Matthison gave Mrs Kenton a hard look, before going through the rules with Heloise. They seemed fairly simple, and for the first few hands Heloise did not let her partner down too badly. She even managed to win a few tricks.

But then Lampton strolled into the room, a drink in his hand, and took up a position by the fireplace, from where he could observe her play at his leisure.

The looks he sent her were lascivious enough to make her squirm in her seat. She no longer doubted he was the
man from the masquerade—the man to whom she had responded so shamefully! The longer he stood there, leering at her, the more worried she grew that he would use that interlude against Charles, somehow.

But what could she do to stop him?

‘I think it is time to call it quits,' she eventually heard Lord Matthison drawl. ‘It serves me right for not specifying that I could win were I partnered with any male. In future, miss,' he growled at her, ‘you might try to remember that if you lead with a trump, your partner will assume you have a fist full of them. My congratulations, Peters—' he bowed to Mrs Kenton's partner ‘—on rolling me up so effectively.'

‘Did I make you lose a lot of money?' Unsure of the value of what they had just lost at cards, Heloise began to chew at her lower lip.

‘No more than I can afford,' he said shortly. ‘And I hope the same goes for you. Though, judging by the pile of vowels Peters is holding, you may have to pledge your jewels until you can wheedle the cash from whichever poor sap paid for that expensive gown you have on.' Flicking her one last contemptuous look, Lord Matthison strode from the room, leaving her cringing on her chair.