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Authors: Mary Jo Putney

Tags: #Regency Romance

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BOOK: The Diabolical Baron
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“Truly, Caro, it won’t take so very long. It was a fine
and considerate idea of his to let you get better acquainted before the wedding. You have always pre
ferred the country anyway, and will doubtless take to
being the lady of the manor very quickly.”

“We shall see,” Caroline said skeptically. “In the
meantime, would you be free to go to the modiste’s
right now? Buying a mountain of expensive clothes
should be diverting.”

“Just let me get my bonnet.”

The trip was quickly accomplished in the old-
fashioned Hanscombe carriage Caroline had arrived
in. Now that she was destined to be a peeress, her step
mother was taking great care of her consequence. No more walking around like a servant girl.

* * * *

Madame Arlette’s proved to be all one might expect
of the most fashionable modiste in London: thick car
pet, expensive furniture and draperies, a delicate scent
of some exotic perfume. Plus Madame herself when
her chief saleswoman informed her that Lord Rad
ford’s future bride had arrived.

A stately woman of
great dignity, one would never have guessed she
started life as the illegitimate daughter of a Parisian
prostitute. To the English, all émigrés were much the
same; if she chose to present herself as an aristocrat
fallen on hard times, who would care to dispute her?

Sweeping grandly up to Jessica, she said, “It is the
greatest of pleasures for me to meet the future Lady
Radford
enfin
. You will make a couple
très
magnifique
!”

Jessica inclined her head coolly. “Permit me to intro
duce myself. I am Mrs. Sterling, and this is my niece,
Caroline Hanscombe, who is to wed Lord Radford.”

In the face of the proprietor’s embarrassment, Caroline could only dimple and say, “Indeed, Madame Ar
lette, I am used to being overlooked when my aunt is
around. I am trusting your skills to make me less invis
ible. Lord Radford wishes me to have a completely
new wardrobe, and I am sure you will do a wonderful
job of it. Where would you suggest we begin?”

Relieved to have her gaffe dismissed so gently,
Madame Arlette studied her client carefully and pro
nounced, “For you the clear spring colors, delicate but
vibrant, no? And a great simplicity of line. Leonora,
bring some of the bolts of Italian silks from the back
room. Yes, the ones I was saving for a very special customer. You will be of an unmatched
superbité
when we are done,
hein
?”

She looked again at Jessica. “If I may say so,
Madame Sterling, your own toilette is most exquisite.
Only a woman of Madame’s magnificent coloring
could wear that shade of dark teal blue. And the cut—
subtle yet
très chic
. Might I inquire who is your
modiste
?”

“But of course,” Jessica said affably. “Madame Ster
ling does her own clothes.”

“A-a-h-h-h!” Madame Arlette said, giving Jessica
the look of one artist to another. “It is most fortunate for my humble establishment you are not in the busi
ness yourself. You would take the honors from us all.”

By no means averse to flattery, Jessica laughed and they settled down in earnest to the business of turning
Caroline into a lady of fashion. Round gowns, morn
ing gowns, riding habits, pelisses, walking dresses,
ball gowns, bonnets, exquisite unmentionables, a
domino for possible masked balls—nothing was left to
chance.

After three hours of being draped with fabrics and discussed as if she weren’t present, a dazed Caroline realized that being fashionable was much more work
than she had anticipated. While she was being
dressed—not unlike a leg of mutton, as she pointed
out with resignation—she amused herself by drifting
into a creative haze.

The obvious subject was a musical
fantasy on the subject of fashion: strong on the violin,
to convey the gauzy fabrics; some delicate flutes show
ing the fluttering hands; an erratic oboe passage to add
to a general effect most whimsical.

A pity she lacked
access to the musicians needed to turn the composition into living sound; she had the overall piece clear in her
mind by the time her two experts declared the results
worthy of Lord Radford. Now it only remained for his lordship to agree.

* * * *

Ten days later, all was in readiness for the trip to
Wildehaven. Madame Arlette’s underpaid minions
had labored mightily to create the staggering quantity of clothes deemed essential to Lady Radford. An ex
pert hairdresser had been called in to pull, trim, and
tug Caroline’s hair into a multitude of new styles, and her newly acquired personal maid was drilled in their
execution until the master was satisfied with her com
petence.

The new styles were pulled back more from
Caroline’s face, emphasizing the pure line of her pro
file, the exquisite complexion and delicate features,
and the dramatically blue eyes. She felt uncomfortably
exposed without her hair to hide behind, but she ac
cepted the change meekly, in keeping with her
promise to Jessica to try her best with her future hus
band.

When he arrived to pick her up in Adam Street,
Jason thought her appearance lacked only vivacity to qualify her as a remarkably attractive woman. Unfortunately, even the best shops in Bond Street could not supply that, but he was well satisfied with her im
provement. She was ready promptly, another point in
her favor. Not only could patience not be listed as one
of Jason’s good points; it was so low on the list of his virtues as to be nonexistent.

He bowed as she entered the salon. “You
look most charming today, Caroline. Madame Arlette
has surpassed herself.” This last was no surprise; he
had learned of Madame’s expertise while outfitting
various mistresses over the years, and knew her skills
could be relied upon. “We have perfect traveling
weather. The rains of the last two days will have laid
the dust, and now we have sunshine to light our way.
In truth, I am anxious to return to Wildehaven.
Courtship has kept me from home longer than I like.”

Caroline’s smile was less enthusiastic as she contem
plated the ordeal ahead of her. “I look forward to trav
eling with your famous team of grays. If they are the
equal of the chestnuts that pulls your phaeton, they
must be praiseworthy indeed.”

“That they are, and steady as they are handsome.”
And mine to keep now, he added silently. “While my
men are loading the luggage, I would like to pay my
respects to your parents. I trust they will be able to
visit Gloucestershire soon.”

While Jason was exercising his manners on Lady
Hanscombe, Caroline received a quick farewell hug
from Gina, who assumed that all newly engaged
maidens were as happy as herself. She and her mother
were leaving for Lincolnshire the next morning, and
Gina looked forward to meeting Gideon’s parents
with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

It was not yet ten o’clock when they reached the
Sterling house, where they had arranged to pick up
Jessica and her daughter. The little square where they
lived was not fashionable, but it was a pleasant pocket
of peace that hardly seemed to be in London. When
they had been let into the house, Caroline excused her
self from Jason and went upstairs to see if her assistance was needed.

“You look particularly splendid today, Jess,” she
said, admiring the gold traveling costume that rivaled
her aunt’s red hair for sheen and brilliance. “Letting
the Diabolical, sorry, Dashing Baron know that you are
a force to be reckoned with?”

“Exactly so,” her aunt laughed. “You know me too
well. But in life’s uneven battles, we poor females
must use all the weapons at our disposal. We can’t
have the Dashing Baron think your chaperon is a cipher who can be ignored with impunity.”

“A good excuse to justify a new dress, though you usually don’t bother with excuses. And as for
being ignored! If you walked down St. James in that
dress, all the clubs would empty of gentlemen and
they would follow you down the street as if you were
the Pied Piper. Is Linda
ready?”

“I believe so. Apart from the fact that I said she
couldn’t take Wellesley, she has been ready to leave anytime this last week. If you’ll go to her room and
take her down to the salon, I’ll be along in a moment.”

Caroline grinned inwardly as she went to Linda’s
room. Trust Jessica to make a grand entrance; she
would have done splendidly at Drury Lane.

Pacing around a parlor too small for his restless en
ergy, Jason was pleased when Caroline and her cousin entered so quickly. “Jason, I would like to present my
cousin Miss Linda Sterling. Linda, Lord Radford.”

The child bobbed a very proper curtsy. With the
ruthless directness of the young, she said, “I am
pleased to make your acquaintance, Lord Radford. I
trust you intend to take proper care of my cousin?”

Caroline’s stern “Linda!” was drowned out by
Jason’s chuckle. “You are clearly a soldier’s daughter,
with a talent for attack. I assure you I have every intention of treating your cousin as she deserves, and I
will expect you to call me on my failings.”

Linda nodded, satisfied with his answer. Jason con
tinued, “Your name is unusual; how came you by it?”

Linda gave a pleased smile. “Linda means ‘pretty’ in
Spanish. My mama says when I was born my father said I was the prettiest little thing he had ever seen,
and insisted no other name would do.” She paused;
then her natural honesty compelled her to add,
“Mama says I actually looked like a proper bit of un
derdone beef.”

Jason chuckled again. “A surprising degree of can
dor for a new mother. No doubt your father was seeing into the future and realizing what a heartbreaker
you would grow to be. It sounds like your mother
coming now. I am anxious to meet her.”

Moving into the entrance hall, Jason looked up the curving stairs to the source of the footsteps. The heart
he thought had died in him more than a dozen years
before twisted into painful and unwelcome life at the
sight of the golden figure descending.

Hair like flame,
a figure that would keep a Cyprian wrapped in jewels
for life, and he knew she would ride like Diana. Glow
ing with a radiant warmth that surpassed the dazzling
loveliness of seventeen; beautiful even beyond dream
and memory. Jessica.

* * * *

Jessica was chuckling to herself as she came down
the staircase, anticipating the trip and the challenges
ahead. Though she maintained her own household for the freedom it gave her, London sometimes made her
feel claustrophobic.

Several weeks on a grand country
estate with good horses and wide-open spaces to ride them in was a prospect that could not fail to please. T
here should be a lively social life as well, since
Radford would wish to introduce his bride to
local society.

As Jessica came from the brightly lit upper hall, her
eyes took a few moments adjusting to the darker
vestibule. From the stairs, she saw a tall, dark figure that could only be his lordship, and fixed her best so
cial smile on her face.

Her first impression was of
leashed power and a formidable elegance. Midway
down, her step faltered and she stopped, holding the
rail to support herself as the blood drained from her
face.

God in heaven, she thought wildly. How can Caro
line’s Diabolical Baron possibly be Jason Kincaid? As
she stood stock-still, her eyes adjusted enough to see
the dark frowning brows.

Gone was the reckless, open
boy, replaced by a man used to power and impatient of obstacles. It was still the handsomest face she had ever
seen, but its hard lines made him seem older than his years, accounting for Caro’s misjudgment of his age. The well-cut mouth was set in a tight line, and black
eyes bored into hers, icy with anger. Clearly he recog
nized her, and had forgiven nothing.

BOOK: The Diabolical Baron
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