Lord and Master (12 page)

Eugene gazed into Miss Shelby’s light blue eyes, and a warm feeling overtook him. It was a feeling he thought he saw returned in her expression. “Until this evening, wise lady,” he said, and gave a slight bow of his turbaned head.

Disconcerted at the intensity of his regard, Miss Shelby ushered the dogs into the house, with only a fleeting glance back at Eugene.

The manservant remained where he was after the door closed quietly behind Miss Shelby.

Eugene’s mind was uneasy. He reflected that he had allowed himself to form an attachment for Leonie Shelby. Involvement with women was something he had avoided assiduously over the years, fearing none would ever be able to understand or accept him.

But Leonie was different. She possessed an uncommon knowledge combined with a sensitivity rarely found. If only he had his freedom so he might further their relationship!

He turned and walked north toward Bond Street and Gentleman Jackson’s, his mind hard at work. Bastet had been clear in her choice of bride for Lord Ravenswood when she had sent Mihos to guide them to Miss Kendall. Now he must concentrate his efforts on bringing the two together, if he was successful, he could gain his freedom and also please the cat goddess.

He must meditate on the matter.

Another subject had been teasing the edges of his brain since the visit to the Egyptian Hall yesterday. He reached up and touched the eye-pin nestled in his turban and recalled the unusual sensation he had experienced as he was escorting Leonie back to Miss Kendall. He felt as if they had been watched. His intuition had indicated a sense of danger.

And Eugene was not one to ignore his intuition.

* * * *

Daphne prepared for the Pelhams’ ball with a fast-beating heart. Late that afternoon she had been arranging flowers in a bowl in the drawing room, when a messenger arrived from Lord Ravenswood. Daphne had put aside the roses and opened the missive with suddenly nerveless fingers.

His lordship apologized for the lateness of the request, but would she accept his escort to the ball this evening? He had heard there would be a crush, and he could not like her and Miss Shelby arriving without male protection.

Daphne normally prided herself on her hard-won independence but, oh, what a delicious feeling it was to think Lord Ravenswood was concerned for her safety. She had promptly returned a grateful agreement to his offer and found herself humming the rest of the day.

Now she sat rather impatiently under Biggs’s ministrations. She noticed the lines of strain on the abigail’s face and guessed the older woman’s hands ached abominably.

Biggs finally stepped back and surveyed her mistress with an air of satisfaction. “You’ll do, miss.”

Daphne’s gown was made of taffeta in an unusual shade of sea-green that shimmered with blue lights when she moved. The dress had a very high waist and a daringly low bodice. A sea-green band of velvet tied directly under the bosom and was clasped with a spray of small flowers made of the gown’s material.

The dress was elegant in its simplicity, designed not to detract from the wearer’s beauty, but instead to enhance it. A delicate gold and diamond necklet and matching earbobs were her only jewelry.

Biggs had painstakingly fashioned a coronet of tiny flowers made of the same material as the dress to place on Daphne’s shining dark red locks. Her hair had been swept high on her head with curls falling over one ivory shoulder.

As Daphne smoothed on her long white gloves, a maid scratched at the door. “Ooooh, miss, you do look a treat tonight,” the girl gasped, wide-eyed.

“Thank you, Betsy.”

“’Is lordship is downstairs in the hall. That strange servant ’e’s got is outside by the coach. Miss Shelby ’as gone outside with ’im.” Betsy curtsied and left.

“Well, I had best hurry, then,” Daphne said, picking up a fan and smiling her thanks at her lady’s maid. “Biggs, do not wait up for me. No, I shall not argue with you. It has been a busy day, and you have worked hard so I could look my best. You deserve a rest.”

Biggs nodded wearily. “Thank you, miss. I hope you enjoy the ball.”

Daphne’s eyes sparkled. “I confess I am very excited.”

She tried not to admit to herself how much Lord Ravenswood’s offer to escort her had added to her anticipation of the evening.

It was hard not to acknowledge this feeling, though, when she walked down the stairs and saw him standing alone in the black-and-white tiled hall, waiting for her in all the glory of his evening finery.

He was an elegant figure. The white sculpture of his cravat rose above the trim line of a beautifully cut white silk waistcoat. His evening coat of charcoal gray, above paper-white knee breeches, fit to perfection. His muscular calves were shown to advantage in fine white stockings that fitted into thin black pumps.

Daphne stopped at the bottom of the stairs and met his eyes. She once again felt the spellbinding intensity of his gaze. A silent promise of intimacy in their dark depths sent a warm shiver running through her.

His lordship bowed, his eyes never leaving hers, then raised one white-gloved hand to the pin in his cravat. It held a large, bright peridot, the stone known as “evening emerald” for the wondrous green glow it produced by candle flame. “I wore this in an effort to see if the stone’s color duplicated your unusual eyes, but I see now no mere jewel could replicate their loveliness.”

Daphne felt heat infuse her cheeks. His lordship was not one, in her estimation, to give Spanish coin to a lady. Thus, the compliment affected her deeply. Indeed, now that he had given it, Lord Ravenswood looked decidedly uncomfortable at his own words.

Daphne curtsied and strove to lessen the tension that had suddenly sprung between them. “My lord, lest you are careful with such flattery, I shall become as full of myself as Lord Guy,” she said lightly.

“Impossible,” he replied, his voice tight. His countenance brightened, though, as he walked toward the door. Opening it, he observed their coach waiting on the street, but he noticed there was another thing amiss. He said, “Your Cramble seems to have deserted his post.”

“Oh, no, my lord,” Daphne corrected him as she glided out the door and stood in waiting on the top of the stone step. “’Tis much too late for him to still be awake. On my orders he retires every evening by eight.”

Lord Ravenswood shook his head and began pulling the door closed. “Miss Kendall, you are too softhearted—”

“Grraow!”

“Good God, is that Mihos?” Anthony stopped and bent to pick up me striped cat who had nudged his head through the opening. Mihos nestled himself against his lordship’s bosom and commenced a loud purring in pleasure.

Oblivious to the cat hairs gathering on his evening coat, Lord Ravenswood said, “I am sorry, my feline friend, I should have inquired after you. I see your leg is still bound with that bandage. Troublesome for you, I wager.”

Mihos lifted his head and raised a paw to Lord Ravenswood’s chin.

Daphne tried hard not to let a chuckle escape her lips. Here was the impeccably dressed, reserved earl with Mihos cradled in his arms only a minute after declaring that she was softhearted.

She watched his gloved hand stroke and caress the purring animal, who gazed at him with adoration. Every time she saw Lord Ravenswood treat the cat tenderly, it touched her heart.

All at once, Daphne’s skin seemed to ache for his lordship’s touch. She imagined what it would feel like if he were to run his fingers across her face, down her neck, along her shoulder.

As if sensing her thoughts, Lord Ravenswood transferred his gaze to her, and they stood, framed in the doorway, looking into one another’s eyes. He stood so close to her, Daphne could feel the heat from his body in the cool of the evening. The light from a full moon gleamed on his dark hair. She felt a sudden yearning to run her fingers through the shiny locks. To do to him what she had been envisioning him doing to her a few seconds before. Touch his face, his lips ...

“I say! Is that Ravenswood fawning over a damned cat?” The voice, barely discernable, came from a passing coach but was loud enough to reach Anthony’s ears. Loud enough to break the spell.

Daphne was glad of the darkness, which hid the flush she knew stained her cheeks.

“Oh, here you are, dears,” Miss Shelby called from his lordship’s coach, where she and Eugene had been deep in conversation.

Eugene had been telling Miss Shelby how he had convinced Lord Ravenswood to offer his escort to Miss Kendall this evening. He had simply contrived a rumor about a gang of footpads planning to prey on the Pelhams’ guests this evening.

Miss Shelby clapped her hands in delight at this imaginative ploy. Eugene thought her the sweetest woman he had ever known, and in the best of looks tonight in a pretty coral-colored dress.

At the top of the stone steps, Lord Ravenswood struggled to convince Mihos to remain at Daphne’s house. The cat obviously wished to come with his owner, prompting Daphne to say, “My lord, Mihos misses you. You must take him home soon.”

“I should not wish to do so before he is completely recovered, Miss Kendall, unless it is an inconvenience to you.”

“No, indeed. I am happy to have him with me. Here, let me unhook that claw from your coat.”

Lord Ravenswood watched her gloved fingers gently detach the cat from his coat. Together they managed to get Mihos inside and close the door, ignoring his outraged roar at such Turkish treatment.

As they walked down the steps to the coach, Anthony decided he would secure a waltz again tonight with Miss Kendall. How enchanting she looked in that gown.

He grimaced as he remembered that she had reduced him to spouting off that drivel about the peridot stone in his cravat. He had had no intention of telling her what prompted his choice in pins. But the words seemed to come out of his mouth of their own volition when he saw how beautiful she appeared coming down the stairs to the hall.

Thank God he had stopped short of telling her how the peridot had caught his attention in the window of Rundell and Bridge’s jewelry shop earlier in the day. Upon seeing the stone, he had impulsively decided to purchase it and wear it this evening. Mentally he shook his head at his foolishness.

Waving aside a footman, Anthony held out his hand to Miss Kendall and helped her into the coach. Her hand was so small and delicate in his, the mere touch of it caused an almost unbearable desire in him.

He could smell her light flower perfume and the effect on his senses, combined with his earlier reactions to the sight of her, was enough to make him wonder if he was mad as a March hare.

The ensuing drive to the Pelhams’ was short, but the press of carriages in the street necessitated almost three quarters of an hour’s wait outside the town house.

Daphne fought hard to push aside the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her regarding his lordship. She was successful enough in this endeavor that conversation inside the comfortable coach was lively. A wide range of topics was covered, including Mihos’s recovery and the exhibits at the Egyptian Hall.

While they were discussing a stuffed cobra they had seen on display at the museum, Eugene saw an opportunity to further his plans.

“With all due respect to Mr. Bullock,” Miss Shelby remarked, “I cannot see why anyone would admire a cobra, even stuffed as it was.”

Eugene addressed her smoothly. “Leonie, I understand your aversion to snakes. However, I am certain that you would perceive their value if you could but see them from a different perspective.”

Miss Shelby caught the conspiratorial look Eugene gave her, and she inserted a challenging note. “I do not see any way that would be possible.”

Daphne agreed with a shudder. “In my view, the creatures have no redeeming qualities.”

Lord Ravenswood’s mouth stretched in a half smile. “You surprise me, Miss Kendall. I would think someone with your loving nature toward animals would rind good in all.”

“I do not consider vipers to be animals. They are reptiles,” Daphne said, and squirmed in her seat. “Oh, by the way you are smiling, my lord, I see you must be funning.”

“Have you ever seen a live snake, Miss Kendall?” Eugene inquired.

“Well, no,” Daphne confessed. “Only that horrid stuffed cobra. I have read about them in books, though. Nasty creatures!”

“I know of a place where one might see serpents dancing on silk ropes to the sound of music,” Eugene entered casually.

Miss Shelby gasped. “How intriguing.”

All eyes were on Eugene.

“I saw an announcement of a fair to be held in a village called High Jones, just outside of Richmond. In addition to the dancing serpents, it said there will be men who can run knives through their hands without producing blood, tumbling performances, and many other diversions.”

Daphne smiled wistfully. “I have not been to a fair since, well, the last time Mama and Papa took me.”

“Gracious, I cannot remember when I have enjoyed the simple pleasures of a village fair,” Miss Shelby mourned.

“Is Richmond far from Town, master?” Eugene asked innocently.

“No. It is only about seven or eight miles from Mayfair,” his lordship estimated. “I have passed through High Jones many times on my way to Raven’s Hall. It is just beyond Richmond.”

Now all eyes were on Lord Ravenswood.

Even in the dim light of the carriage, Anthony could see the look of anticipation on Miss Kendall’s face. He knew at that moment he would not, nay, could not do anything to displease this auburn-haired beauty. He sighed. “When is the fair, Eugene?”

Eugene allowed himself a slight smile. “Monday, master.”

“Would you and Miss Shelby honor me by being my guests, Miss Kendall?” Lord Ravenswood asked, knowing the answer, yet wondering how on earth he would live through a tedious day at a country fair.

Daphne’s eyes shone. The look of excitement in her eyes made Anthony glad of his offer. “I should like it above all things, my lord.”

“Lord Ravenswood, you are the most amiable of gentlemen,” Miss Shelby said, and then beamed.

For a brief second Anthony thought he saw her wink at Eugene. But that could not be.