How to Marry a Rake (10 page)

Chapter Eight

S
tephen was not in attendance at Lady Toswick’s card party. Despite her disappointment—she couldn’t wait to inform him of Ryeton’s troubles with his wife and mistress—Mae was having a fine time.

The countess’s long, converted parlour was nicely filled with card tables and lit with brightly glowing sconces. Mae’s father was in a good mood, her mother was relaxed and the room was filled near to bursting with the cream of Newmarket society. Even better, Mae was making definite progress towards her own goals.

Lord Corbet’s friends, to Mae’s intense satisfaction, were all in attendance. Addy, with significantly raised brows and widened eyes, introduced her to a handsome young nobleman. Lord Banks partnered her in whist, and when they weren’t trouncing Addy and her husband, they talked of Paris and of horses and of where in Europe the best riding might be pursued.

Eventually the game ended and they continued their conversation alone. The baron was a perfect gentleman;
his gaze never once lingered on her, despite the elaborate embroidery gracing the high collar and low bodice of her gown—and the jewellery she’d selected just to invite attention to it. She sighed and, remembering Mr Fatch, listened to him discuss the renovations he planned for his own stables and his hope to start up a stud. Mae, who had visited the Continent’s finest breeders with her father, only listened, asked leading questions, and pretended to be impressed, even when it became clear she knew more about the subject than he.

‘I hate to give her up,’ Lord Banks assured Addy when she came to fetch her, but Mae felt no desire to linger in his company. It was a tedious business, this acclimating a gentleman’s palate. Conversation was far more interesting when a man had already had a full taste—she blushed at the
double entendre
—as Stephen Manning had.

In perfect unison with this thought, a prickle blossomed on the back of her neck. She spun towards the door just as the butler announced his name.

Pleasure bubbled up inside her, erupting into a slow grin. She had hoped to see Stephen tonight. But certainly neither she nor anyone else had expected to see him framed in the doorway with his neckcloth tangled in another man’s fist. The unknown gentleman spoke low and urgent, very close to Stephen’s face. He didn’t appear to be daunted by it. In fact, he appeared to be listening intently. She was too far away to hear any of their conversation, but like a ball on a bowling green, the word
Pratchett
rolled across the room, bouncing and ricocheting from table to table.

Her grin fractured into a chuckle of delight. She’d thought she be forced to put Stephen’s mission on hold this evening, but perhaps they could find a way to work on both goals at once.

The two men separated at their host’s approach. Mae whispered to Addy and left her to head towards the group. She knew the instant Stephen’s gaze fell on her, for the weight of it warmed her from the inside out. She smiled, but he lowered his brows at her. With a frown and darting eyes, he warned her off.

Confused—and annoyed—she stumbled to a halt. Trying to look natural, she took the first empty seat she encountered, next to Mr Matthew Grange.

Mr Grange, bless him, expressed his delight.
He
wasted no time admiring her jewellery.

‘Your sapphires are stunning, Miss Halford, but I can’t help feeling sorry for them.’

‘Sorry
for them, Mr Grange?’ She glanced down where the heavy sapphire pendant nestled tantalisingly at the top of her cleavage.

‘Indeed, for they are completely outshone by the brightness of your eyes.’

She laughed up at him. ‘Very nicely done, Mr Grange.’

‘Thank you.’ He followed the direction of her glance, towards the doors. ‘My social skills have grown rusty. I’m happy for the chance to air them out.’

Mae glanced about at the empty chairs at his table. ‘I see you’ve been left without a partner. Shall we search out another game?’

‘Truthfully, I’d rather not. I had enough card play to last several lifetimes when I was confined to my
sickbed. I was hoping instead to find a lovely lady willing to accompany me on a gambol about the room. I’m in need of practice there, too, you see.’ With his scarred and reddened hand he slapped the wooden leg strapped to his thigh. ‘What do you think of her?’

‘Her?’ asked Mae with a smile. The piece was intricately carved and highly burnished.

‘Aye. She’s my prop. Always there when I need to lean on her, helping me to achieve all that I want. Just as a good woman does for her man.’ A grin only barely concealed his tension as he waited for her answer.

‘I think she’s an object of beauty, practicality and great worth, just as any woman should be in her gentleman’s eyes. How could you, or anyone, not love her?’

His smile widened as his shoulders relaxed. ‘Shall we stroll, then?’

They did, with their heads together and with much laughter punctuating their conversation. Mae’s gaze returned repeatedly to Stephen, but he showed no awareness of her at all. He and his companion had been absorbed into a group that included Lord Toswick and her father, although it appeared that Stephen was trying to lure the other man away.

‘You mentioned social skills earlier, Mr Grange. Tell me, do you believe that a woman seeking to impress a man must learn to downplay her own accomplishments?’

‘In general, I’m not a fan of hiding anything, Miss Halford.’ He gestured towards his missing limb, but frowned thoughtfully. ‘Although, I believe I have met more than one person whose character seemed suited
to extreme modesty. Hiding their light under a bushel, as my old nurse used to call it.’

‘Ah, then you believe it to be a function of character, rather than gender?’

He gave her a gentle smile. ‘I confess, the war made me a student of character.’

She met his gaze squarely. ‘And what did you learn in your studies, sir?’

‘Oh, several things.’ He glanced in Stephen’s direction. ‘I learned that many people are not familiar with who they are beneath the surface.’ His expression grew rueful. ‘I learned that nothing strips a man and exposes the truth of his character like hardship and deprivation. And I learned that nothing brings more misery—or a quick and certain death, in the army’s case—than finding oneself in a position that one’s character is not suited for.’

She blinked at him. ‘I think your studies have made you a very wise man, Mr Grange.’

‘And a tired one, I’m afraid.’ He gestured toward a nearby sofa. ‘Now, I am going to sit down a moment.’ He thrust his chin towards Stephen’s group. ‘You go on—and rid yourself of the bushel.’

Mae squeezed his hand. ‘I’ll consider your advice, sir.’

She stepped away. Stephen, she’d noticed, had finally succeeded in separating his friend from the others. She started in their direction, stopping to collect Addy on the way. ‘Play along with me, please,’ she whispered in her friend’s ear. Stephen had dragged the man to a secluded corner. She tugged Addy towards them.

‘Of course. But what are we doing?’

‘Reconnaissance.’

Addy’s countenance lit up.

‘Who is that man who arrived with Lord Stephen?’ she asked, low.

Alarm replaced the mischief in Addy’s expression. ‘Mae—that’s Viscount Landry, the very one that spiteful Miss Metheny told you about.’

‘Ahh. That will only make this that much more enjoyable.’

‘You’ll have to be careful.’ Addy’s gaze lingered on the man in question for a long moment. ‘He may be lovely to look at, but he hasn’t a feather to fly with. Corbet says he’s in dire straits indeed.’

‘I’ll take care to admire his beautiful feathers without allowing him to pluck my own.’

Mae pasted on a smile as they reached the two gentlemen. ‘Stephen, the earl was not sure you would be here this evening. How happy I am that you’ve come.’ She eyed the viscount in appreciation. ‘And you’ve brought a friend.’

Stephen merely nodded.

‘Yes,’ the other man answered for him, blinking rapidly. He appeared to be having difficulty focusing. ‘Manning is a brick.’ He frowned. ‘He brought me along.’

‘And we haven’t had a moment to talk since.’ Stephen’s annoyance rang clear.

Landry’s wandering gaze hit upon the sapphire pendant at her breast—and sharpened immediately. An overly long beat of time passed. Still he didn’t look up.

‘Landry.’ Stephen’s frustrations appeared endless tonight. Served him right.

Looking closer, Mae noticed the viscount’s flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. The man was foxed. A happy little flutter beat in her chest. So much the better. ‘Will you make the introductions, Stephen?’

Thunder collected across his brow. Short and curt, he performed the niceties. ‘And now, if you ladies will excuse us,’ he said even as he finished. ‘Lord Landry and I were interrupted in the midst of a crucial conversation.’

But something had hung the viscount up. ‘Wait,’ he ordered again. ‘Halford? Halford’s daughter?’ He squinted at her. ‘But you’re a pretty thing!’ He turned it into an accusation.

Mae laughed. ‘I’d apologise if I hadn’t worked so hard at it.’

Now his accusation was for Stephen. ‘Holding out on me, Manning?’ His face drooped. ‘And after all of our years of drinking together? I’d expected better of you.’

Mae nudged Addy.

‘Oomph!’

Mae glared.

‘Yes!’ Addy said, too loud. ‘Lord Stephen, it sounds as if the viscount has monopolised you long enough. You must come with me. We promised one of the ladies that we would introduce you.’

‘Perhaps later.’ Glares were
de rigueur
in this corner of the room and the one Stephen directed at Mae was a winner. ‘I have important matters to discuss with Landry.’

‘You have not the slightest cause for worry, then.’ Mae wrapped her arm about the viscount’s—the better to support him should he stumble. ‘When matters are important, they are best left to a woman.’

‘Mae.’ Dire warning lived in that one word.

She stiffened. ‘You run along with Addy. And I shall take the viscount along to greet our hostess.’ She tugged on Landry’s arm. ‘Come along, my lord.’

‘Just a second—’

Addy led a protesting Stephen away. Mae smiled at Lord Landry.

‘You’re a pretty thing,’ he said once more.

‘Thank you. Are you enjoying Newmarket, Lord Landry?’

‘Wasn’t. Was having a devil of a time. Things picked up, though.’ He leered at her sapphire again. ‘And now I’m having a wonderful time.’

‘You flatter me.’ Tilting her head just a bit, she looked up at him through her lashes, just as Josette had schooled her.

He straightened, tried to rally. ‘You’ve been away from England, have you not? Travelling?’ He swayed alarmingly on his feet, but appeared not to notice. She doubted she had much time before he passed out on his feet.

‘Yes, indeed. I love to travel, but I admit, after so long, I’m glad to be home. I’m looking forward to seeing London again soon.’

‘London?’ Horror creased his face—and it appeared to be too heavy an emotion to handle. He tilted towards her. She braced herself, but at the last second he got his feet back under him.

‘Yes.’ She ran a considering eye over him and shifted her strategy. She’d better get this done quickly. ‘Perhaps it is not very English of me, but while I was in Paris I developed a taste for strong, black coffee. Would you care to join me in a cup?’

‘Happy to.’ He came along compliantly as she started off, not willing to relinquish his hold on her arm. Or her steadying influence.

‘Oh, dear, it appears that Lady Toswick is busy arranging the buffet supper.’ Shyly, she glanced askance at him. ‘Would you mind if we took our coffee in a more … private setting? I confess I could use a moment of quiet.’

‘A brilliant suggestion,’ he said fervently. ‘Where shall we go?’ He’d discovered her matching sapphire earrings. His gaze was now fixed firmly on her left ear. ‘Does the family have a sitting room upstairs, perhaps?’

‘I think the yellow salon across the hall will do nicely.’ She called over a servant and gave several quiet instructions. ‘Come, Lord Landry, let’s find you a comfortable seat.’ On the way across the room, she also stopped to whisper a word in her mother’s ear.

The salon was only steps away, but the viscount sighed in relief as he eased onto the jonquil sofa. ‘Don’t do it, Miss Halford. Don’t go to London. Town is crowded and dull.’ He laid his hand over hers. ‘You should stay here in Newmarket.’ He did his best to summon a charming smile, but it came out lopsided. ‘With me.’

‘Do you reside full time in Newmarket, my lord?’ This surprised her.

‘For now.’ The crafty crinkle about his eyes disappeared as they closed in a yawn.

Servants bustled in with the coffee. Mae perched on the edge of the sofa to pour. She handed the viscount a cup, but judged it had come too late. He was having difficulty keeping his eyes open.

‘I heard you discussing the Earl of Ryeton with Lord Stephen. Is the earl a friend of yours?’ she asked innocently.

‘Good Lord, no.’ He blinked rapidly at her. Trying to keep awake. ‘The man’s a rotter.’

She rescued his cup as he lost the battle and laid his head on the back of the sofa. After a long moment’s silence he let out a giggle. ‘Rotter,’ he repeated with delight.