Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02] (24 page)

"Damnation," he growled as he handed his sister her sherry. "As of yet, I haven't—that is to say, there have been... a number of distractions. But I am sure there is a way I may trap the villain without involving—"

"The ladies?" finished Lady Alston with an arch of her brow. "I don't see why that is such a cause for worry. Mrs. Proctor strikes me as an extremely competent sort of person." Taking Wrexham's silence for a grudging surrender on that point, she continued. "I doubt that either she or I will do anything buffleheaded enough to endanger you."

"I am hardly concerned about the danger to myself," said the earl through gritted teeth. "Edmund's plan calls for All—Mrs. Proctor to be the one most exposed to Sandhill's wrath should anything go wrong. I cannot countenance such a thing."

"Well, she is not some silly widget of a girl, Leo. I imagine she has considered the consequences. She has a right to decide for herself, whether you like it or not."

The earl's expression only darkened at his sister's words and he muttered something under his breath as he took a long sip of his brandy. Further comment was forestalled, however, by a light knock on the door.

Wrexham put his glass down with a thump. "Come in, " he snapped.

Allegra slowly opened the door. "Forgive me for intruding on you," she said hesitantly, her eyes carefully avoiding those of the earl. Wisps of steam curled up from the large cup in her hands, giving off a pungent scent of woody herbs. "I... I saw that your leg is bothering you. The cramped quarters and constant jostling can have done it no good, sir—so I took the liberty of preparing this."

"Oh, Leo!" exclaimed Lady Alston. "With all the bustle of your arrival, I didn't even notice that your old injury was acting up. How frightful of me!"

"Please, Olivia. You know I don't care to have you make a fuss over it," growled the earl.

Allegra put the cup down on the table beside him. "I've left the recipe with the kitchen so that they may fix it in... the future, when you have need of it."

Wrexham looked acutely uncomfortable. "You needn't have gone to such trouble. It's hardly a twinge." As he unconsciously stretched his leg out in front of him, a slight spasm of pain crossed his features, but he made no move to take up the tisane.

"Really, my lord, you are acting as childish as Max did about taking his medicine." A note of exasperation crept into Allegra's voice. "It makes no sense to endure such discomfort if it can be helped, and you know that this helps. In fact, I am going to stand here until you drink it." She couldn't help but turn to Lady Alston. "Is being stubborn as a mule also a trait of Sloane men?"

Casting a baleful glance at his sister, the earl picked up the cup and drained the contents.

Lady Alston struggled to maintain a straight face. "I'm afraid it is, Mrs. Proctor, though I must admit the females of our family are equally cursed—just ask Leo." Before Allegra could make any response she went on. "Come, now that you are here, I insist that you take a glass of sherry with us."

"Oh, I couldn't—"

"Nonsense!" Her tone indicated she would brook no argument. "Leo, you will remain seated and rest that leg of yours," she added as the earl made to rise. "I am perfectly capable of pouring our guest a glass of spirits."

Wrexham sat down as ordered.

It was Allegra's turn to stifle a grin.

"Oh dear," said Lady Alston, with a guilty laugh. "I fear that the habit of ordering little Leo around is a hard one to break. I wonder he hasn't taking to boxing my ears now that he is no longer in leading strings."

"I just might, one of these days," he warned, but he couldn't refrain from smiling as well. "As it is, I find it no surprise that James has undertaken a long trip to St. Petersburg—and that the lads have chosen to go with him. No doubt the prospect of the discipline aboard a naval warship is a welcome respite from home."

"Wretch," she murmured as she handed Allegra a glass. "You might not believe it, Mrs. Proctor, but he can be quite charming when he chooses." Resuming her seat next to the earl, she motioned Allegra to take the chair facing them. "Actually, I am so glad you have joined us tonight. We have much to talk about if we are to implement our plans as soon as possible." With that, she launched into a detailed plan for introducing Allegra into Society that left even the earl mute with respect.

"You seem to have thought of everything," admitted Wrexham when she inquired whether she had omitted anything of note.

"Good. Now, my modiste will be here first thing in the morning and has promised to have several gowns ready in time for making a number of morning calls before attending the Hightower's ball." She fixed Allegra with an appraising look. "I should think that a smoky shade of blue or perhaps a muted emerald would look marvelous with your coloring. Leo, you must give us your opinion. You have always had impeccable taste and I know that even Suzanna sought your—"

The earl cut her off in mid-sentence. "I'm sure Mrs. Proctor has no interest in what I think."

Allegra looked overwhelmed. "Lady Alston, I... I don't think it necessary—I mean, surely I don't need..."

The other lady waved away her protest. "You must trust me to know what you need in order to appear to be what you say you are. Oh, and if we are to present you as our relative, you really must call me Olivia." She paused for a moment. "And you must cease with the 'my lord' and 'sir' and call Wrexham by his Christian name as well."

Allegra felt the heat rise to her face as she recalled the only time she had ever uttered the earl's name.

"Oh... I couldn't. It really wouldn't be proper."

"I must insist. It would appear odd if you don't."

"In that case, I... very well," she replied in a near whisper. She put aside her untouched glass of sherry and rose. "If you don't mind, I really do think I shall retire. It has been a long day and it appear we have much to do on the morrow."

"Good night then, Allegra," said Lady Alston.

"Good night... to you both."

When the door closed, there was a rather long silence as Lady Alston regarded her brother from under her lashes.

Wrexham shifted uncomfortably. "What?" he finally demanded.

"Oh, nothing." After a slight pause, she added, "Tell me about Mrs. Proctor."

"There is little to tell," he muttered. "Edmund has recounted the entire story to you."

"I mean as a person."

The earl looked taken by surprise. His brows came together as he thought for a moment. "Ahem. Well, she possesses a keen intelligence as well as uncommon good sense—that is, most of the time. She has more spirit than most... and she is caring and compassionate. Why, when Max was injured, she exhibited more concern than Suz—" His jaw clamped shut. Reaching for his brandy, he took a long swallow before continuing. "It is a pity her brief marriage did not afford her a child. She would be an excellent mother." Then he shrugged. "There is nothing more to tell."

Lady Ashton refrained from any comment.

Wrexham drained his glass then got stiffly to his feet. "I, too, have had a long day, Olivia, so I think I shall bid you good night." He bent down and pressed a light kiss on her cheek. "Despite your penchant for meddling, I am deucedly glad to see you."

She squeezed his hand. "Good night, Leo, my dear. And try not to worry overly—I have a feeling that everything is going to work out for the best."

Chapter 11

Allegra shut the book with a sigh, then let her eyes fall closed as well, savoring a rare moment of solitude in the deserted morning room. The last few days had passed in a blur, with more fittings than she had imagined possible, excursions with Lady Alston to show Max the Tower and Astley's, on top of hours spent going over the nuances of behavior within Polite Society. And then there had been the first few morning calls to a select group of Lady Alston's friends. Since each one chosen could not resist a tempting piece of gossip, news of the arrival of the recently widowed—and extremely wealthy—cousin of the earl should have reached even the most reclusive member of the
ton
.

It appeared that she had contrived to get through the ordeal without making any egregious mistake. Why, she had even managed to chatter quite lengthily about absolutely nothing, a feat she would have normally considered quite beyond the powers of her patience. Indeed, Lady Alston had been well satisfied that all was going according to plan.

Another sigh escaped her lips. It was the thought of tonight that had caused the book to slip from her fingers. The prospect of facing a ballroom filled with bejeweled ladies and titled gentlemen—among them Lord Sandhill—was a daunting one. She found herself wondering whether Wrexham would put in an appearance. A familiar face, even a disapproving one, would be of some reassurance. But aside from a few brief glimpses at the breakfast table, she had hardly set eyes on him since their arrival in Town. He seemed to be going to great lengths to avoid being in her presence.

Her mouth quirked in a rueful grimace. Could there be any doubt why?

She found herself wishing yet again that she had not sunk herself so irredeemably in the earl's eyes, that she could retrieve the comfortable friendship that had grown between them. She missed their spirited discussions, even though their opinions rarely matched. She missed sitting curled in one of the oversized armchairs with a book while he worked at his desk...

"Allegra?" Lady Alston poked her head into the room and surveyed the growing shadows near the french doors. "Good heavens, my dear! It is way past time to begin preparing for the evening's festivities. Come along, Clotilde is waiting."

Allegra laid aside the small leatherbound volume with some reluctance and followed the other lady upstairs, feeling not a little unlike a lamb being led before a pack of wolves.

Some time later, Lady Alston's formidable French maid stepped away from Allegra with a sniff of satisfaction.

"
Pas mal,
" she announced under her breath as she surveyed the results of her labors.

"Clothilde, you are a true artiste," murmured Lady Alston, causing her maid's ample chest to swell out to even larger proportions.

Allegra stared into the gilt mirror, hardly believing what she saw. Her hair was twisted into a simple arrangement atop her head, but with an artful snip here and there, the abigail had created a tumble of soft curls to frame her face. The effect was amazing—she hardly recognized herself! The fact that the new gown revealed quite alot more of herself than she was used to only heightened the feeling that she was looking at a stranger.

"Oh," she managed to whisper.

"You look absolutely stunning," said Lady Alston with a smile. "The color is perfect on you, just as I imagined it would be."

There was a knock on the half opened door, then Wrexham stepped into his sister's room. "Olivia, have you seen where the deuce they have put my—" He fell silent as he caught sight of Allegra.

"Doesn't Allegra look lovely?" said Lady Alston.

The earl remained speechless.

"Be prepared, my dear, to find yourself attracting any number of offers," went on Lady Alston.

Allegra colored to her roots. "You are being absurd, Lady Alston. A female of my advanced years, not to speak of—"

"Olivia," corrected the earl's sister. A decided twinkle came to her eyes. "And we shall see just who is being absurd."

* * *

Wrexham finally found his voice. "Olivia, you don't mean to tell me you are going to let her appear like... like that in public?"

One of Lady Alston's brows shot up. "Whatever do you mean, Leo? She looks a veritable picture."

He couldn't tear his eyes away from Allegra's bare neck, exposed shoulders and creamy expanse of bosom. "Why, it's... hardly decent," he managed to growl.

"My dear brother, you have fallen sadly behind the times, hidden away up in the wilds of the north. This style is all the crack, I assure you, and certainly well within the bounds of propriety for even the highest stickler." She gestured to the front of her own gown. "As you can see," she added.

Wrexham hadn't noticed his sister's gown.

Allegra's color had only deepened. "Perhaps his lordship is right," she said in a near whisper. "It does seem rather—"