Emily Hendrickson (9 page)

Ellen slipped into the room, perching on a straight-backed chair near the door.

“I came to see how you fared after the visit to the Rotunda earlier. I heard a rumor, you see.”

“So did my grandmama. I explained and she is not terribly displeased. She also said nothing more about my impending engagement to Lord Twisdale.”

“Good. You go out this evening?” He caressed the elaborately carved handle of his cane with an absent stroke of one gloved hand. He looked as though he wished to sit down, but Chloe was not certain it would be wise to encourage him to linger.

‘The Robynhod party,” Chloe replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “I fear I shall need another lesson or two, however,” she added with great daring. “We met Sir Augustus Dabney while strolling along the edge of the park. When I swung my parasol along at my left side, he asked if he might wish me happy. I suppose everyone expects an announcement of an engagement to Lord Twisdale,” she inserted on a reflective note. “At any rate, I did not know anything about flirting with a parasol.”

“No, one might say you are not well versed in the art of flirting. However, that is not so reprehensible. It is refreshing to see a young girl who is not madly fluttering her lashes, dropping her handkerchief, twisting her gloves in her fingers, or sending signals with a parasol.”

“You do not object to placing the fan against the lips?” she said softly with a dash of daring.

“Never that, but you had best be careful with such an invitation. The wrong man might take advantage of you.” His look seemed paternally tolerant of her girlish remark.

Chloe was quite certain there were few gentlemen so inclined, but remained silent on that score. She merely shook her head and stood, hands held politely before her, while she waited for him to take his leave.

He advanced toward her, an odd light in his eyes. What a provocative tilt to his mouth and such an intriguing look in his eyes. Perhaps he was a scoundrel after all?

“I must go, for the time is slipping past and I would not have your grandmama think me improper.” He looked for all the world as though he silently laughed at her or someone.

Chloe wished with all her heart that she might dare to lift the handle of her fan to her mouth. What would it be like to know the touch of his lips on hers, rather than the faint brush of them against her cheek. Then, quite scandalized that she would harbor such outrageous thoughts, she sought a decorous reply.

“That would never do,” she said. Then the words “Dragons must be given proper respect” popped out before she could consider how improper she was being to speak of her grandmother in such a manner.

“I shall consider what your next lesson should be,” he added in a soft aside before leaving the room.

Chloe stood utterly still, contemplating his words. Her next lesson? What it might be? A shiver of delight fluttered through her.

Suddenly her dread of the Robynhod party dramatically lessened and she began to look forward to it, even if her gown was a gray thing she had worn a number of times before.

When she hurried to her room, Ellen cautioned her that time passed far too quickly and her grandmother would expect her down for an early dinner tonight.

Chloe had intended to sort out her drawings and study the one of St. Aubyn again. She wondered if she had captured that sparkle in his eyes just right. Well, she concluded, the drawings must have been tidily placed in a drawer and out of sight, for they were not where Chloe had left them. Ellen’s work, most likely.

Her inspection must wait until later. So she hastily changed from her day dress into the gray silk—such as it was—for this evening.

Ellen had found another pretty pink silk rose that she tucked into Chloe’s curls and pinned into place with care. When queried about her source, the maid replied, “I was sent to the attics for something else and I chanced to see a hatbox full of silk flowers. I doubt any would be missed, there were so many.” For Ellen it was a loquacious reply.

“Well, it does improve my looks. This gray silk needs a touch of pink,” Chloe mused in a considering way.

Ellen produced another pink rose to pin to the bodice of Chloe’s gown. “There now, you look as well as possible without a new gown.”

“And we both know that even if it is my money that is spent, Grandmama will not deign to purchase that!” Chloe declared with affront.

When she joined her grandmother for dinner, that good lady said nothing about the touch of pink silk roses. Rather, she had something else on her mind.

“Scroggins said you had a visitor.”

“Mr. St. Aubyn stopped by for a few minutes to see how I managed after the excursion to the Rotunda this afternoon. Ellen joined us.”

“Hmpf,” Lady Dancy said with a calculating expression crossing her face. “Most considerate of him. Behaved himself, you say?”

“Yes, Grandmama. He was all that was polite.”

“Maybe he is thinking about choosing a wife. Even a scoundrel must consider what is due his family name.” Lady Dancy dismissed the butler and stared at her young relative with a most penetrating gaze.

“Perhaps. I should not refine too much on his attentions to me, however,” Chloe dared to explain. She did not wish her grandmother to acquire any outrageous notions.

“How is that? You said he was polite.”

“He was and is. He just did not seem as though he is interested in me in that way.”

“But then, what do you know about such matters,” the dowager concluded with a wave of her hand. She rang for her tea and hurried Chloe through her sweet, nattering on about the Robynhod rout.

Once they arrived at the Robynhod home, it was easy to see that the ton had turned out in grand numbers to grace the event. True, while some parties bordered on the insipid, word had seeped out that Mrs. Robynhod offered something out of the ordinary.

Chloe heard whispers of it while ascending the stairs and wondered what it might be. She adored surprises.

While mingling with the throng of guests, she caught sight of Laura with her parents, her Aunt Elinor—who looked exceptionally beautiful, in fact, rather dashing—Theo Purcell with Sir Augustus, and off to one side Mr. St. Aubyn. Although he had his back to her, she would recognize that back anywhere, even without sight of his cane.

Her grandmother set off for the card room at once, leaving Chloe to find Laura and asylum.

Miss Wingrove sidled up to them and gave Chloe a significant look. “How are you, my dear?” she whispered, or as near to a whisper as one could get in the midst of a mass of people.

“Well, thank you.” Chloe shot her a puzzled look. Miss Wingrove usually never spoke to Chloe.

“I hope you will continue to enjoy good spirits,” she said with an apologetic expression. “One never knows what is around the corner.”

Chloe murmured an agreement, then watched, still puzzled, while the lady edged her way back to Elinor’s side. There she remained in the shadows, ready to fetch a shawl, a glass of lemonade, or simply disappear if her benefactress so wished.

“How odd, but then she never is what you might call commonplace,” Chloe said in an aside to Laura.

“Come, let us wander about the rooms. Perhaps we shall find other friends and make up a game of something.”

With a murmur of assent, Chloe asked, “Did you hear something about a surprise the Robynhods have for the guests this evening? Someone mentioned it while we were on the stairs.”

“I doubt if it will be out of the ordinary. But Mama said she always serves a delicious supper. Mama said Mrs. Robynhod gossips so frightfully about others, she daren’t serve but the best of foods.” Laura searched about as though hunting for the dining room.

“How fitting that her gossiping should benefit us,” Chloe said with a smile.

They turned a corner and nearly bumped into Theo Purcell and Mr. St. Aubyn. Laura exclaimed with delight and said, “Do let us get up a game of something. Cards? Charades? Cranbo?”

“Well, we could have Lady Chloe portray her favorite characters,” Mr. St. Aubyn said in a drawl.

In the background Aunt Elinor spoke with Lady Jersey, but it seemed to Chloe that she was quite conscious of all that was said in her hearing. She stared at Chloe as though she’d become a nasty worm. What in the world did she think might be said by St. Aubyn to a slip of a girl like Chloe?

Not liking his casual drawl, she glared at him and moved away. “Come, Laura, I see Sir Augustus across the room. Perhaps he may be able to give us more information of those teachers he mentioned earlier.”

Not understanding her motives in the least, Laura gave Chloe a confused look, then followed along.

“I thought it would be fun to have a game of something,” she hissed at Chloe when they were at a safe distance.

“Really,” Chloe hissed back, “can you see the elegant Mr. St. Aubyn playing at charades?”

Laura turned to look back at the gentleman, who now stood by Lady Jersey and flirted with her in a very sophisticated manner.

“I would say that your Mr. St. Aubyn could most likely play at charades with the best of them.” Then she looked about them and said, “Have you seen Lord Twisdale here? He usually manages to show himself at every event you attend.”

“I have seen very little of my tormentor in the past day or two and hope to see still less. Maybe Grandmama forgot to tell him.”

“Look the other way,” Laura suddenly urged. “He just paused by the entrance. We do not wish him to spoil things for us.”

Glad to have someone who appeared to care for her interests, Chloe obediently turned her back to the entry and wondered if she might be successful at eluding the man by this method.

“I say. Lady Chloe, are you planning to get up a game of
attitudes’!”
Sir Augustus said from where he had popped up at her side.

“No,” she replied, even as Laura said, “Yes, we are.”

Nothing would do but that the diversion was organized, and Chloe shortly found herself the object of all eyes in the room while she sought to reveal her subject. Posing in an
attitude
tired one quickly and she objected to being the cynosure of all eyes.

“You represent the goddess of wisdom,” Laura cried with delight.

Actually, Chloe had attempted to portray an instructress, but was so happy to be out of the limelight, that she gave way with more than a little eagerness. She retired to the shadows to watch Laura perform.

“Were you truly wise, you would depart immediately,” advised a voice from behind her.

Chloe pretended not to hear St. Aubyn, but wafted her handkerchief across her brow to indicate she guessed they were watched. “Lord Twisdale?” she whispered.

“Have you not noticed the malicious looks darted at you by your aunt? I fear she is up to something. When I arrived she was in close conversation with our hostess. Both wore an expression of unholy glee. I cannot be at ease when I think about it. What have you done to displease her?” His softly spoken words disheartened her.

“Nothing at all.” Chloe turned slightly so she might speak without seeming to be talking to the man behind her. She noted he held his hand to his mouth as though pondering the performer.

In the softest of voices, and from behind the security of a spread fan, Chloe continued, “Perhaps you were not the only one to hear a bit of gossip this afternoon, sir. If she is very good friends with Mrs. Robynhod it may well be that she was informed of the visit to Gunter’s and the conversation between us that followed.”

“By Jove,” he said in a faint undertone of disgust.

“I understand that some ladies resent attention paid elsewhere, even if it is of the most innocent kind.” Chloe turned again to face the person performing and behaved as though she had no idea who had been standing behind her for a brief time.

He eased himself away, not trusting himself to answer that last remark. Blast Elinor anyway. What made her think that she could snoop and pry into his doings as though she had a right to know all he did. That Chloe should know anything of the liaison that had existed between himself and the beautiful Elinor bothered him. A young girl like her ought not be exposed to such knowledge.

Julian sought and found the elegantly beautiful Mrs. Hadlow arm in arm with Lady Jersey. Elinor still wore that smug expression of elation she had worn earlier. What could she be up to, he wondered.

“Julian,” she purred, “you became bored with the game? Perhaps they ought to play something more interesting?”

“Like Hunt the Slipper? Or Blind Man’s Buff? What sort of game would you play at, Mrs. Hadlow?” Julian fixed her with a stare that she could not seem to break. At her side Lady Jersey stirred, then drifted away to find something less intense.

“I do not play at games, Julian. Can you say the same?” She tore her gaze from his to search the room. From the way her eyes narrowed with displeasure, Julian guessed her gaze had come to rest on Lady Chloe.

“You must be proud of your talented niece,” Julian offered suddenly, not liking the expression that had flitted across Elinor’s face. “She seemed to play the game rather well.”

“Did she?” Elinor turned her face back to him and smiled. It was a strange smile—smug and a trifle triumphant. It made Julian distinctly uneasy. “Well, as to that, we shall soon see.” She drifted away from him to chat with Lord Twisdale.

And that was odd, for Julian would have sworn that Elinor detested Twisdale. His attention was captured by a round of laughter from the assembled group clustered about the attitude posers. Theo posed as Neptune and had a dickens of a time keeping a straight face.

Julian decided to take him from his misery and identified him. Whereupon he discovered that when he had named the character, he must take the following turn.

Theo thanked him for saving him from disgrace, then muttered, “You had best be a lion rampant, someone is bound to guess.”

Not understanding in the least, Julian agreed to pose with good grace and was astounded when Lady Chloe immediately called out his portrayal.

“Well done,” Julian said with relief. “Did Theo tell you?” he added when the group had dispersed because Lady Chloe declined a second attitude.

“Not exactly.” She turned her attention to the doorway where Mrs. Robynhod was inviting people to partake of her little supper. “Perhaps I had best find Grandmama and enjoy the delights to be found at the table our hostess provides.”