Rogue's Reward (14 page)

Eleanor said nothing. She knew her mother too well. Lady Acton already had a life of her own that enthralled and delighted her. It didn’t leave much room for her children. As soon as they returned to London, she would forget her noble desire to be a friend to her daughter, and plunge back into the social whirlwind.

The countess strolled to the window and gazed out.

“He’s leaving,” she said.

Eleanor joined her and looked down into the driveway. Walter was there, already mounted and ready to depart. He leaned down a little from the saddle, because Diana was clinging to his hand.

Tactfully ignoring them, Leander Campbell was adjusting the tack on his black charger. He looked powerful, lithe, and self-contained.

“Mr. Campbell is an extraordinary young man,” Lady Acton said. “Sometimes I wish—”

“What?” Eleanor said.

“Oh, nothing! One can’t change the world. Good Lord! Norfolk bores me to tears. I wonder why we ever came down here? It’s time we went up to Town. Your father will have arrived there by now. I shall order the carriage for tomorrow. Meanwhile, Richard has stopped in to see us and we leave him trapped with Augusta in the drawing room. If we don’t rescue him immediately, she will drive him to drink. And when Diana comes in, wracked with despair and frustrated desire, she will need all our support. I think I’ll go down and be charming. At least Richard will be amused. Eleanor, where are you going?”

Eleanor paused just long enough to grin at her mother.

“To say goodbye to Mr. Downe, of course,” she said.

* * *

She ran into the courtyard just as the men were preparing to leave. Her cheeks were flushed from racing down the stairs, making her eyes brilliant.

Lee’s heart missed a beat. She was lovely. Lovely and innocent and lost to him forever.

He quickly led his horse away from Walter and Diana, so that when Eleanor stopped in front of him, they were well out of earshot.

“What made you do it?” she asked.

“What have I done now, brown hen? I rather thought I had been behaving better today—no breaking of roofs or stealing of kisses.”

She stared up at him, her soul in her eyes. “Why did you return the letters?”

“Why not? I decided I preferred your mother to Sir Robert.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

He grinned. “Am I required to explain myself to you? I don’t believe you have ever returned the compliment.”

“The answer to that is easy. With me there’s nothing to explain. I am as transparent as glass and as simple as a lunatic.”

“Ah, yes, I had forgotten. You’re just a schoolgirl, aren’t you?”

“Mr. Campbell, if my family wasn’t already involved in your machinations, I wouldn’t give you the time of day, believe me. But since they are, I think you owe me something other than pat phrases and evasions.”

He took her hand and bent to kiss the tips of her fingers. “Alas, Lady Eleanor,” he said. “That’s all you’re going to get. Infuriating, isn’t it?”

“Oh, stuff! You don’t matter enough to warrant more than indifference, sir.”

“That’s what I like about you, Lady Eleanor. You’re so calmly consistent. It’s a great virtue in a female.”

“Virtue?” she said, spinning about to walk away. “You wouldn’t know it if it bit you.”

Lee watched the proud tilt of her head and the rigid line of her retreating back for a moment, then he swung onto his horse. She stopped in the doorway and gazed back at him with her eyes full of indignation.

Diana released Walter’s hand, then stood swaying with one hand pressed to her mouth. With a last meaningful look back at her, Walter turned his horse to join the black.

Lee immediately asked the black for a side pass and the horse stepped elegantly over to stop in front of Eleanor. It cost him every bit of his self-control to keep his smile light and his voice flippant.

“You had better support my poor sister,” he said softly, leaning from the saddle. “Love has her in its blind grip. Diana is about to have the vapors.”

* * *

Walter and Lee trotted along together in silence, until Lee put his mount into a canter that soon became a gallop. When he finally pulled up, Walter had been left several hundred yards behind.

“Devil take you!” Walter said with better humor than his words implied, as he eventually rode up alongside his friend. “Can’t shake off the dust of Hawksley fast enough? You might have given some thought to my sensibilities.”

Lee smiled back at his friend. “I should never have brought you,” he said. “I admit I thought perhaps Diana was enjoying only a passing fancy which proximity might cure, but in spite of her histrionics, I think she genuinely loves you, sir.”

Walter flushed. “I’ll wait for her,” he said grimly. “Even if it takes five years.”

“If you persist in being so honorable, you may have to.”

“What about the other issue?” Walter said, deliberately turning the subject. “Did you get any satisfaction from the major?”

“About Manton Barnes? No, I didn’t. And I found nothing at the house.”

Walter looked at his friend in astonishment. “You searched Deerfield?”

Lee grinned. Eleanor had given him the information he needed: if there was a hiding place in the library, perhaps there were others in the house. Then Frank Garth had confirmed it. Yet gentlemen did not usually rifle through other people’s papers. Neither would Eleanor have done so, if she hadn’t wanted to save her mother from blackmail.

“Of course,” he said. “That’s why I went back there. Don’t look so upset. You know I am shameless.”

“I only know that you must have thought you had bloody good cause.”

“I did, as a matter of fact.”

There was silence for a moment. Then Walter spoke. “You’re going to leave me hanging, just like that?”

The violet eyes gave him no mercy. “Yes, I am.”

“But you might at least—”

“No! Stay out of it, Downe! Don’t speculate and don’t press me. The thing is deeper than you know.”

“You know your own business best, of course,” Walter said stiffly. “But for God’s sake! What the hell is this?”

Lee looked ahead and edged his horse onto the verge. A carriage was ponderously rolling toward them. Pairs of outriders in elaborate livery rode before and after the vehicle. On the box sat not only the driver, but two servants armed with weapons to guard against highwaymen, and one with a loud and piercing coaching horn to warn other travelers out of the way.

Lee and Walter were immediately honored with a blast, startling their horses so badly that Walter was almost unseated.

“Good heavens,” Lee said, though the black also shied and then bucked. “I hope my sister is feeling strong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Unless I am very much mistaken, Mr. Downe, those are the colors of the Duke of Maybury. It would follow, therefore, that the inhabitant of this splendid equipage is none other than his son, your rival for the hand of the fair Diana: the infamously charming, wealthy, and eligible Roger Waters, Lord Ranking.”

The girls quietly rejoined the company in the drawing room. Fortunately Lady Augusta was distracted by a comment from Lady Acton and was thus unaware that Diana was positively drooping. Eleanor’s high color met only her brother’s shrewd black gaze. What did Richard guess? Thank goodness there wouldn’t be any further chance for a private word!

When he took his leave she was able to hug and kiss him, and wish him a safe journey back to Helena, as if nothing at all were wrong. Then while Lady Acton made her own good-byes, Eleanor returned to her room so that her mother could enjoy the last few minutes with her eldest son.

At least, that’s what she told herself. Surely her desire to be alone for a few moments and gather her thoughts had nothing whatsoever to do with Leander Campbell? But the luxury of reflection was denied her. She heard rapid footsteps running up the stairs and someone hammered at the door.

Eleanor opened it to find Diana, her eyes swimming with tears.

“Oh, Eleanor, it’s all quite dreadful! Now Walter has gone back to London, when shall I ever see him again?”

“Very soon, don’t you think?” Eleanor was not feeling very sympathetic. “Mama and I go to Town, too, and surely you and Lady Augusta follow right away?”

Diana dropped onto Eleanor’s bed. “Yes, and that’s the worst of it. Your brother Richard barely trotted out of the driveway, when a carriage turned in. It has the Maybury arms, Eleanor. Lord Ranking is here.”

“Di, pray, don’t be a watering pot! It makes your skin blotchy. Not even your formidable mama can make you marry Ranking, if you don’t want to.”

“But he’ll fawn over me and pay me attentions, and I can’t bear it. What if he should try to propose?”

“Refuse him. It won’t cause an international incident—merely a minor tempest in the domestic teapot.”

Lady Diana mopped at her eyes and smiled. Then she looked at her friend with her heart in her eyes.

“You said you would help me, Eleanor. If you were nice to Lord Ranking, maybe he wouldn’t want me, after all. You’re so much braver than I, you could cope with him. And anyway, you’re not in love with somebody else, so it wouldn’t be nearly as upsetting to your sensibilities. I shall die if he takes us to London. Get him to escort you and Lady Acton, instead. Say you will, please?”

Eleanor laughed. “According to your brother, only heroines in romances would rather die. Anyway, it’s highly unlikely that Lord Ranking would transfer his affections from a blond angel to a brown hen.”

“Why?” Diana said. “I don’t think he’s ever noticed what I look like. He just wants a suitable wife. And in so many ways, you’re a better catch. Your father has all kinds of influence and standing. You’re an Acton.”

“Do you think Ranking so mercenary? I thought he was captivated by your beauty.”

“Lord Ranking was never captivated in his life. He’s a toad. Oh, say you’ll help me, Eleanor!”

“I don’t see how I can. Really, Di! I’ve never had any practice at captivating before.”

“Think of it as a challenge,” Diana said. “Just enough to make him leave? Please?”

Eleanor looked at the genuine distress on her friend’s lovely face and felt a rush of remorse. She reached out and squeezed Diana’s hand.

“Of course I’ll try,” she said. “Whatever I can do to help you marry your Walter Feveril Downe, from this moment I promise it shall be done. So let’s go downstairs to face this toad together.”

A drooping young man stood in the hallway.

He did not look up as the girls came down. His skin was pale and a little flaccid, as if he rarely saw fresh air, and he was unwinding several layers of woolen scarf that had been wrapped about his neck. He seemed unaware of the resulting crushed cravat and bent shirt collar, which thrust up crookedly beneath it.

“How can Lord Lenwood ride away without a coat?” he asked, his voice petulant. “Your son cares nothing for his health, Lady Acton?”

“Richard is never ill,” Eleanor’s mother said with her most incisive smile. “We Actons enjoy the soundest constitution.”

“Which is most fortunate for you!” Lady Augusta led the way into the drawing room. “To my way of thinking, you are very wise to take no risks, Lord Ranking. Why, Lady Acton herself had to be brought back in the carriage after walking too far from the Park. It is so foolish to expose oneself to a raw wind on a blustery day.”

Lord Ranking turned to the countess. “Did you indeed, Lady Acton? I am always subject to a most horrid inflammation of the lungs after the slightest exposure. I am known for the delicacy of my organs. No one has to be more careful. Ah, Lady Diana!”

Diana made a stiff curtsy and introduced her friend to her unwelcome suitor. Lord Ranking immediately produced a quizzing glass and surveyed Eleanor from head to toe, before bobbing his head in a small bow.

“Most delighted, I’m sure! I hope you will forgive my not bowing too deep, Lady Eleanor? Nothing aggravates a delicate chest more certainly than to disturb its natural elevation, I find. And once irritation sets in, only the most determined care can cure it, and then, alas, but temporarily.”

Eleanor swallowed her smile and replied as gravely as she was able. “Red flannel is the answer to such problems, Lord Ranking. Worn as a preventative against chills and sudden upsets, nothing is more effective. I have it on the highest authority.”

“Red flannel is all very well, of course.” He gazed at her with serious interest. “But a posset of treacle and boiled milk is very comforting—unless one fears ague, in which case nothing can answer better than elderberry ague ointment. You have consulted Culpeper’s Compleat Herbal?”

“Of course,” Eleanor said. “But in this case it was a Norfolk laborer named Frank Garth who recommended red flannel most highly.”

Lord Ranking seemed oblivious to her teasing. “I understand. Wisdom may be found in the most unlikely places. You are a fellow sufferer, no doubt?”

“Lady Eleanor was abed with a dreadful ague at Acton Mead during Christmas,” Diana added quickly. Since it had been only a simple cold, this was a most iniquitous exaggeration.

“How extraordinary! I myself suffered just the same thing,” Roger Waters said, immediately drawing Eleanor aside.

She sat beside him on the couch, and for Diana’s sake began to display the deepest interest in his ailments. For the first time in her life, Eleanor discovered that it was really quite simple to be captivating, after all. Nothing more was needed than to allow the victim to talk endlessly about himself. When it was someone as empty-headed as Lord Ranking, it was simplicity itself.

Thus to Lady Augusta’s horror and Lady Acton’s amusement, by the time tea was served, the heir to the dukedom of Maybury had not once paid the slightest attention to Diana.

Then when the tea dishes were cleared away, he suddenly declared himself unable to stay in the damp drafts of Norfolk for one second longer than necessary. He would accompany the Acton coach up to Town on the morrow and the Harts could follow as they wished.

There was nothing that Lady Augusta could say to make him change his mind.

Diana’s profuse and ardent thanks were to be Eleanor’s only reward.