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Authors: Margaret Bennett

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BOOK: The Poor Relation
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Breaking an uncomfortable silence that had settled between them, he said, “I understood you were unwell and had retired for the night.”

“Only a sight headache for which the cool night air has done wonders,” she replied with a dismissive reflection in her voice meant to discourage any more intercourse.  And really, there was little else she had to say to such a rogue, albeit a very disarming and appealing one at that.  Besides, her feelings still smarted after his confirmation of Judith Palmer’s warning.

They soon reached the salon doors, and he held one open for her.

“If you will excuse me,” she said.  As she brushed past him, he reached out for her arm and brought her up short.

“One moment, please, Miss Woodforde.  There is no need to
mention to anyone that you have seen me tonight.”

This brought to mind the conversation Chloe had with Pierre Guyot before dinner.  However, she hesitated to inform him of the Frenchman’s interest in his background, perhaps out of pique because of Judith Palmer’s disclosures and his own admission of rakish habits.

Then too, while his face was an impassive mask, there was no mistaking the warning that flashed in his dark eyes.  She was not afraid of him but was well aware that he could be dangerous.  She met his steely gaze with a reassuring smile.


I will not, my lord.”  She smiled ruefully.  “For I fear my hostess would be offended were she to hear I preferred the solitude of her gardens with Lady Caro over her company.”  She paused before adding, “Although, I do wonder how you would react if I chose to be uncooperative?”

A spark of anger
ignited the depths of his dark eyes, but she didn’t wait for an answer.  Pulling free of his hold, she quickly entered the salon with Lady Caro racing to keep up with her.  She did not slow her pace until she reached the baroness’s room.  She was shaking all over, aware that somehow she had struck a dangerous cord in him.  Almost as though he felt threatened, vulnerable even.  But such an idea was absurd.  How could someone like her possibly pose a threat to such a man?

Entering her aunt’s room, she found Lady Sophia propped up in bed, closely watching Hannah move about the chamber, putting away toiletry.   Chloe handed the little dog over to the
abigail after brushing dirt from its tiny paws.

“Where have you bee
n, child?” asked the baroness, a worried crease between her brows.

“I took Lady Caro out, Aunt Sophia,” replied Chloe, sitting on the edge of the bed, surprised at how lucid her aunt
appeared.  “Did you and Sir Albert play with Mr. Pearson tonight?”

“We did,” the baroness replied with a wicked grin.  “Cleaned the dandy out, too.”

“Aunt Sophia,” chided Chloe, even as she joined her aunt in a hearty laugh over the easy victory.  Giving the baroness an affectionate hug and a peck on her cheek, Chloe said, “Promise me you will not play with him again, Aunt Sophia?  I do not care for him.”


You’ve no need to worry, child.  I don’t think Sir Albert and I left him with a groat,” chuckled the baroness.  “Now, be a dear and read to me for a while.”

Sometime later, when Chloe was leaving her aunt’s room, another door down the hall opened.  She looked up and saw the large silhouetted figure of the Viscount emerging from Mrs. P
almer’s bedchamber.  Rather than meet his penetrating eyes, she quickly ducked her head and hoped to pass him without a word.

But
Camden had other plans, for he placed both of his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stop.  “It’s not what it appears,” he said in a hoarse whisper.  There was no need for him to explain what he meant.  They both knew.

“It does not matter what I think,” said
Chloe, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

“But it does matter
.  It matters a great deal to me.”

In the gloomy hall, she met his eyes, their intensity causing her
to draw in a breath.  As his hand came up and gently brushed her cheek, Chloe choked back tears brought on by his touch.  How could he do this to her? She wanted to voice her rage, tell him how his soft touch made her want to melt against him.

Instead, when another door down the hall opened, momentarily distracting him, she pulled away from his grasp and fled to her room.  Leaning against the closed door, she bit her lip to stifle her tears.  Putting on her night shift, she berated herself for a fool.  She knew better than to
fall for a libertine.  But her heart had betrayed her.  Collapsing on the bed, she finally succumbed to her heartache, using her pillow to muffle her tears.

 

 

 

***  Chapter 10 ***

T
he next day, Chloe did her best to avoid the Viscount.  She had Hannah bring breakfast to her, spent the morning with her aunt, and sat at the other end of the table from him during lunch.  She read to the baroness most of the afternoon, even though the old lady slept through a good part of Mrs. Ann Radcliffe’s
Mysteries of Udolpho
.

By dinnertime, Chloe suspect
ed that the Viscount had a similar goal in mind, for he seemed to be keeping his distance from her as well.  Never once did he glance her way when she entered the drawing room.  Yet inexplicably, once Chloe realized he was just as intent on avoiding her, it rankled, even upon owning to herself that was exactly what she’d sought.  Deciding to at least appear unaffected by the infuriating man, Chloe resolutely pulled herself up short whenever her eyes began to stray toward where he sat a few chairs across the table from her.  After dinner, when the men rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, her attention was claimed by Lady Agatha Howard.

“I have known your aunt any number of years,
Miss Woodforde, yet I cannot imagine why we have never met in London.”  Lady Howard had requested Chloe share with her a pair of wingbacks positioned in one corner of the enormous room, hence providing a comfortable coze.

“I
have only lived with Lady Milbanke for two years, my lady.”

“Two years, you say?” Lady Howard gave Chloe a smile before continuing what was beginning to feel like an interrogation.  “I distinctly recall seeing your aunt at Lady Smythe-Russells’s summer rout last year, and you were not there.”

“More than likely you saw Lady Milbanke at the card tables.  I usually remain in the ballroom where I can enjoy listening to the music.”

“Do you dance, Miss Woodforde?”

“Yes,” she answered, puzzled by the other woman’s inquisition.  Her expression must have conveyed her thoughts because Lady Howard let out a peel of laughter.

“You must think me a ninny, asking all these questions, but you see, my dear, I know very little about you.  Surely I would have remembered bumping into you on the dance floor at the Smythe-Russells’.”

Chloe, wondering where all this would lead, shifted uncomfortably in her chair.  As she did so, her eyes inadvertently caught Camden making his way across the room straight for her aunt.  The baroness, it appeared, was having greater difficulty than usual negotiating a straight path, colliding into a pedestal side table littered with bric-a-brac.  Fortunately, no disastrous crash followed, though she had little time to reflect on this.

~~~~~ 

Lady Howard met Chloe’s clear hazel eyes, and saw that the young woman was somewhat embarrassed at having been caught watching the Viscount before she answered, “I do dance, my lady, but I am seldom asked to take to the floor.”

“I find that hard to believe, especially with your pretty face.”

“It is not my lack of looks, but a dowry that is wanting,” Chloe explained with bluntness.

“But, but surely...” stammered Lady Howard.

“No, my lady, when one possesses only passing fair looks as well as being a poor relation, solely dependent upon relatives for one’s existence, there are few gentlemen who can afford the luxury of seeking out one’s company on a regular basis.”


Surely Lady Milbanke takes an interest in your welfare?”

“Oh, indeed, Aunt Sophia has been extremely good to me.  Still, as circumstances are, you must understand that she needs me as much as I need her.”

“Could she not sponsor you for a Season to find a suitable husband?”

Chloe laughed good-naturedly, then explain
ed the unique relationship she had with her aunt.  “So you see, my lady,” she concluded, “even though Aunt Sophia does her best to expose me to eligible bachelors of the
ton
, without a dowry, there is little hope that I will attract an acceptable
parti
. There, too, is the possibility that were I to marry, my cousin might try to have my aunt declared incompetent.  I cannot allow that, for it would break her heart to be locked away in the wilds of Lancashire.”

“I must say, you do not appear at all downcast by any of this,” said Lady Howard, much
taken by the young woman and her practicality.  She detected no self-pity or loathing for her position and was impressed by the poise Chloe exhibited as well as her matter-of-fact explanation.  Agatha began to understand why she’d intercepted the Viscount’s eyes resting on Miss Woodforde with more than a fleeting look of interest reflected in their brooding depths.  She also hoped that the hardened rake would do nothing to hurt this sensitive young lady.

Being a romantic like so many of her class, Agatha resolved to do what she could for the baroness’s companion.  It would be easy enough for her to introduce Chloe to some of the officers attached to her husband’s department at Whitehall, ambitious young men who were destined for diplomatic careers.  Since most had few expectations of marrying money, they would be delighted to make the acquaintance of such a lovely female who was intelligent and level-headed, particularly when one considered her blood connections.

Trying to suppress a match-making gleam in her eyes, Lady Howard asked, “Are you returning to London at the end of the week?”

“Yes, the Mount Street townhouse is my aunt’s permanent address.”

“Excellent.  I am having a small dinner party next month, and with so many people following Prinny to Brighton, Town company is bound to be quite flat.  However, I would deem it an honor if you would accept an invitation.  I will send one around the minute we are back.”

“I am flattered, my lady,” Chloe accepted graciously.

~~~~~

From across the room, Camden
kept an eye on Chloe’s tete-a-tete with Lady Howard. With an effort, he glanced down at Judith, glued to his side.  He was hardily sick of her none too subtle hints for a romantic tryst later that night.  For him, her voluptuous beauty had paled as her avarice nature grew, and he’d lost interest in the affair well before this house party.  Of a certainty, he’d no intention of picking up where they’d left off in London.  Besides, that cloying perfume of hers was giving him the headache. 

He much preferred Miss Woodforde’s company
but was forced to maintain a distance from that young lady.  Already he feared she may be linked with him as well as having witnessed far too much for her own well being.

From the wide berth she’d given him today,
Camden was sure his vicious tongue had hurt Miss Woodforde, and for the first time in his nefarious career he truly regretted having to take that particular course of action.  There was little choice in the matter, however, for if his enemies spotted any partiality on his part toward her, it could ultimately mean her death.  He didn’t think he could live with that on his conscience, thus surprising himself with the fact that he still possessed one.

Now the enterprising Judith was another matter altogether.  She was well aware of certain risks involved, but her grasping personality prompted her to focus more on the reward, a considerable sum of money paid for services rendered to the Crown
.  Plus, she’d used the time scheming to get him to marry her.  But there she had completely underestimated him.  Camden was far too shrewd to be entrapped by one of her ilk.

Tonight, he found Judith particularly annoying, insisting he pay her court, knowing events would soon come to a head and how important her role was to the success of the plan.  But he needed a breather, for his temper was short and it was a matter of minutes before his barbed tongue put the so-called lady in a snit.

When Lady Milbanke sauntered past, tipsy as usual and wobbling precariously on her feet, sideswiping a nearby table, Camden saw a chance to escape.  He pried Judith’s fingers loose from his sleeve and hastily excused himself to aid the old baroness across the room.

“Allow me, Lady Milbanke,” he said, placing a hand under her frail elbow to steady the old gal.

Startled, she looked up with round glassy eyes and gave a vigorous nod or two that set the silver fringes on her purple turban swaying.  After a moment, she regained her equilibrium and gave a majestic wave of her bejeweled hand, indicating her destination was a settee over by an open window.

He saw her safely seated and bowed to leave when she gripped the lace at this wrist with a blue-veined hand.  “Have a seat, my lord,” she whispered loudly as she gave him an arched look.  “I’ve something that needs saying.”

Despite his general dislike for the old gal, he was intrigued.  Noticing Judith on the other side of the room fuming over his defection, he enjoyed a perverse satisfaction from the beautiful widow’s pique and obliged the baroness.  After choosing the chair closest to her, he patiently waited for her to continue.

Still speaking in a loud whisper,
Lady Milbanke began, “I know your kind condemns the likes of me as social nuisances.  But my niece, now there’s a different kettle of fish. She’s a good gel, Camden, make no mistake about that.”

“I have never thought otherwise,” he replied gravely.  He wondered if bats were loose in the old gal’s belfry.  Could it be that she was trying to warn him off
?  Or more likely, playing matchmaker?

“As it should be.”  She bobbed her head up and down, once again setting the frilled edges of her turban flapping.  “Then, you must know that the poor dear has not a groat to fly with, all because of that no account, nip cheese nephew of mine.   But
Chloe’ll be my heir.  Ain’t much, but enough to make a respectable dowry.  Doesn’t know it though,” she said in a triumphant tone, though her slurring speech was notably more pronounced.  Leaning forward a bit off center, she gave him a sly wink.  “Cedric would be the last person on earth I’d leave a shilling to when the time comes for me to cork up m’ toes.  That parsimonious boob tried to declare me a Bedlamite, you know, so he could lock me up.  But my niece, she’d never let him get away with it.”  She eyed him speculatively for a moment.  “You do take my meaning, Camden?”

BOOK: The Poor Relation
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