The Second Lady Southvale (2 page)

There was something dreamlike about that minuet. She barely heard the orchestra, and yet her steps didn’t falter as she was led effortlessly through the precise sequence of steps.

Faces she knew swam past. She saw her mother still
endeavoring
to divert her father, whose controlled anger was directed not at Lord Southvale, but at John. John was still with George, and looked a good deal more sober now as he contemplated the likely parental reaction to this latest example of his excesses. George watched Rosalind as she danced, and his face was thoughtful. Other eyes were upon her, too, as the cream of Washington society observed the telltale flush on her cheeks as she danced with the handsome English lord.

As the minuet at last came to an end, Rosalind and Lord Southvale found themselves close to the French windows that stood open onto the lantern-lit terrace. The orchestra played the final notes, and she sank into a curtsy.

He held her hand for a moment longer than required. ‘Miss Carberry, a breath of fresh air would be more than agreeable to me. Would you care to accompany me onto the terrace?’ He spoke softly, his voice barely audible as a ländler was announced and couples began to take up their positions.

She had to reluctantly shake her head. ‘My father wouldn’t approve, Lord Southvale.’

‘Such a brightly lit terrace is hardly a den of impropriety, Miss Carberry. Besides, I see quite a number of guests out there,
so good conduct will be seen to be observed.’ He smiled into her green eyes.

Her halfhearted resistance crumbled away. ‘You’re quite right, sir, so I would be pleased to accompany you.’ She was conscious of a frisson of pleasure as he took her hand again, drawing it over his arm.

She heard whispering break out again behind them as they stepped out of the ballroom, but she didn’t glance back. The guests who were already on the terrace made little secret of observing the evening’s most fascinating twosome, and the color heightened on Rosalind’s cheeks, but Lord Southvale gave no sign of being aware of the stir they were causing.

He led her to the stone balustrade at the edge of the terrace and then stood looking at the lights of Washington twinkling to the north across a moonlit expanse of alder-studded marshland. The music coming from the ballroom behind them competed with the throb of insects, and from time to time fireworks exploded in the sky above the capital as America celebrated its independence from British rule.

A large formal rose garden stretched away from the foot of the terrace, filling the night with perfume. Lanterns illuminated the paths and lit up the magnificent blooms that were Rosalind’s mother’s pride and joy. At the far end, against a white picket fence and a windbreak of tall evergreens, stood a little summerhouse where it was good to sit at this time of the year. To the south, away from Washington, the silver ribbon of the Anacostia River swept toward its confluence with the Potomac, and in the distance all around, palely lit by the moon, was the hilly, wooded countryside where Rosalind liked to ride. George often accompanied her on her rides, and as she stood by Lord Southvale in the lantern light, she felt a pang of conscience. In all the time she’d known George, she’d never experienced anything that came even remotely close to the tumbling, bewildering emotions that had seized her during these past few minutes.

Her gloved hands trembled a little as she rested them on the stone balustrade. She felt she had to say something. Anything. ‘It – it must be a little dull for you to be here instead of
enjoying
the London Season.’

‘Not really. I happen to find Washington very much to my liking.’

‘But surely it’s a little rustic here after the sophistication of London?’

‘Rustic?’ He smiled, glancing up at the mansion rising against the sky behind them. ‘I’d hardly call this rustic, Miss Carberry.’

His smiles played havoc with her already unsettled
composure
, and she strove to appear quite calm and unconcerned as she continued the conversation. ‘Maybe this particular house is grand enough, sir, but Washington as a whole is somewhat unfinished, you have to admit. The houses are scattered, the public buildings incomplete, and the roads and sidewalks tend to peter out here and there. And listen to the insects. We’re in the middle of a virtual swamp.’

‘I cannot argue with what you say, but I can see what Washington will be like in the future, and I like what I see.’

He gazed toward the city, and as he did so, his right hand moved slightly on the balustrade. A flash of gold on his finger caught her eye. Had he transferred his wedding ring from his other hand? No, it wasn’t a wedding ring, it was a signet ring. By the light of the lanterns she could make out the design that was cut into the ring; it was a griffin, the mythical beast that was the emblem of the de Grey family.

He glanced at her again. ‘As to the second part of your
question
….’

‘My question?’

‘Whether or not I miss the London Season. I have to confess that socializing hasn’t been very much to my taste this past year; indeed, this is the first time I’ve indulged in such diversions since my wife died.’

She felt dreadful. ‘Oh, forgive me, I didn’t mean to—’

‘I know you didn’t, Miss Carberry, and I promise that I haven’t taken offense.’ His eyes were very blue as he studied her. ‘Can you similarly promise me that you haven’t taken offense because of my intrusion here tonight?’

‘Yes, Lord Southvale, I can promise you that.’ It was true, for although he’d angered her at first, that was most certainly no longer the case.

‘I’m relieved to hear you say so, for the last thing I wished to do was tread upon any sensitive toes.’

She was curious. ‘Why
did
you come? This is a Fouth of July ball, Britain isn’t exactly popular here at the moment, and quite a number of my parents’ guests happen to believe that war is the only way to settle the differences between our two countries. Your envoy, Mr Foster, has prudently stayed at the legation tonight, but you’ve taken it upon yourself to come here. Why?’

‘For a very selfish and personal reason, if the truth be known,’ he murmured.

‘I can’t even begin to imagine what such a reason might be, sir.’

‘No, I’m sure you can’t.’ He smiled at her. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re a remarkably beautiful and engaging young lady?’ he asked suddenly.

The apparent change of tack caught her off-guard. ‘I – I beg your pardon?’

‘Come now, surely the American male hasn’t been so remiss as to neglect to pay you the compliments you’re due?’

Color rushed into her cheeks again. ‘You flatter me, I think,’ she replied in embarrassment, thoroughly disconcerted by her continuing susceptibility to everything about him.

‘No, Miss Carberry,’ he said softly, ‘I’m not flattering you at all. I’m being very direct and honest.
You
are the reason I’ve come here tonight.’

She stared at him.

He held her gaze. ‘This morning I happened to look out of the legation in Seven Buildings, and saw an open landau drive
from Nineteenth Street into Pennsylvania Avenue. There was a young lady seated inside, wearing a lime-green muslin pelisse and matching gown. She had golden hair and she twirled a frilled white parasol above her head. I thought her the most delightful creature I’d ever seen, and I made it my business to find out who she was. The Carberrys are very well-known in Washington, and it didn’t take long to learn your name.’

She didn’t know what to say. Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire, and her pulse had quickened almost unbearably. She looked quickly around the terrace and saw that many glances were still being directed surreptitiously toward her and her noteworthy companion.

He smiled a little. ‘If I’m embarrassing you, you must forgive me, Miss Carberry, but you did ask me why I came here tonight.’ His blue eyes moved slowly over her flushed face. ‘By pure chance I was told that your brother was to be found at a certain gaming house, and so I took myself there in order to make his acquaintance.’

‘Does – does John know why you wished to come here tonight?’

‘No. He invited me because it’s his belief war is only
encouraged
if the protagonists refuse to associate.’

She looked away. ‘I’ll warrant the cognac had something to do with it.’

‘Possibly. Whatever his reason, I didn’t argue, but took him up immediately on his invitation. The rest you know.’

For a long moment she was silent, but then she looked at him again. ‘Are you always this direct, Lord Southvale?’

‘It isn’t something I make a habit of, Miss Carberry,’ he said softly, ‘but I tell you this, I’ve never before so desired an
introduction
that I’d resort to any means to acquire it. I saw you, and I had to know you, it’s as simple as that.’

She stared at him, her heart pounding wildly in her breast. None of this was really happening, it couldn’t be happening … But it was happening, and spellbinding emotions were arousing
thoughts and feelings she’d never known before.

His hand moved to briefly touch hers. ‘Have you nothing to say?’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ she whispered, a shiver of
pleasure
trembling through her just at the fleeting contact.

‘Haven’t you felt anything since our meeting?’ he asked. ‘Are you immune to me?’

‘No woman could ever be immune to you, Lord Southvale.’

A faint smile played on his lips. ‘I’m not concerned about other women, just about you. Look at me.’

Slowly she obeyed, and was conscious of a powerful current that seemed to almost leap between their eyes.

‘Are you going to marry George Whitby?’ he asked quietly, holding her gaze.

‘I don’t know….’ Nothing was certain anymore. What had been clear at the commencement of the evening was all in
question
now. How could she marry George now that she’d
experienced
such soaring emotion from just being with this Englishman? The feelings she’d had for George were as nothing when set beside the shivering delight of merely receiving one of Philip de Grey’s devastating smiles.

‘Has he asked you to marry him?’ he pressed.

‘Yes.’

‘But you haven’t accepted?’

‘No.’

His hand moved over hers again, but not fleetingly this time. The caress destroyed her resistance, and her gloved fingers involuntarily curled to meet his. She felt the hardness of his signet ring as he held her hand tightly, but then she remembered everyone else on the terrace and hurriedly drew away.

‘No, we mustn’t….’

‘It’s too late now, Rosalind, for I’ve seen into your heart,’ he said softly.

She swallowed, her tongue passing nervously over her lower lip. ‘But we hardly know each other, Lord Southvale.’

‘I know all I need to about you.’

‘But I know very little about you.’

‘That’s easily corrected. Meet me tomorrow.’

‘I can’t do that,’ she gasped. This was all happening far too quickly, and she felt as if all control was being taken from her.

‘Why not?’ His tone was softly persuasive and his eyes teased her to defy her heart.

‘Why not? Because it isn’t done for a lady to make
assignations
with a gentleman she’s only just been introduced to.’

‘Nor is it done for said lady to clasp said gentleman’s hand so intimately, or to let him see in her eyes that she desires him as much as he desires her.’

Her breath caught, and confusion beset her. ‘Please, stop….’ she whispered.

‘Stop? And see the prize slip from my fingers? No, Rosalind, I don’t intend to let that happen. I want you more than anything else in this world, and time isn’t on my side if I wish to win you.’

‘Time?’ She could barely collect her scattered thoughts. She could hear his voice, but her own heartbeats threatened to drown his words.

‘I may not be in Washington for very long. My task here is to be the messenger boy, should there be any significant
developments
in the talks between the British envoy and the American government. I’m due to go to St Petersburg at the beginning of next year, and was only sent here at the last minute because the diplomat who was to have come was hurt in a riding accident. If I’m sent back to London because of the talks, someone else will return to Washington in my place, and I am still going to Russia in the new year. It’s because time may be very short that I’ve pressed you so tonight, for if I’d allowed convention to take its course, I could have found myself on my way home to London without progressing beyond a formal introduction.’ Shaking his head a little, he gave a short, rather incredulous laugh. ‘Dear God, I’d never have dreamed it possible to have
been so struck by lightning that I’d behave like this.’

‘That’s how I feel too,’ she said quietly, for it was true.

‘Then you know we have to meet again?’

‘Yes.’ What point was there in pretending otherwise? She wanted to see him, to be with him….

‘Tomorrow?’

She nodded.

‘Or should I say today, for I believe it’s now the Fifth of July.’

She smiled. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘John told me that you and he often ride in the woods east of here.’

‘Yes, we do.’

‘He mentioned a fallen tree on a hill, from where there’s a particularly spectacular view.’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll be there at midday.’

‘I’ll come to you,’ she whispered.

‘And now I think perhaps it’s time I left, don’t you?’

She glanced around the terrace and saw that interest in them hadn’t diminished. ‘Maybe it would be best,’ she agreed
reluctantly
, for she didn’t want him to go.

‘Would you apologize to your parents on my behalf? I really didn’t intend to cause such a stir.’

‘I’ll tell them.’

He looked deep into her eyes. ‘Good night, Rosalind,’ he said softly.

‘Good night, Philip.’ It seemed the most natural thing in the world to call him by his first name, because suddenly he was everything in the world to her.

He left, walking quickly away across the terrace and into the ballroom. The inevitable whispers accompanied his every step, but he gave no indication of noticing anything. As he made his exit from the ballroom a minute or so later, a positive babble of conversation broke out, and Mrs Carberry again felt compelled to order the orchestra to play a lively dance.