Lord Darlington's Darling (7 page)

“Of course not, my lady! Pray allow me to make
you known to my mother, Mrs. Fairchilde, and her
sister, Mrs. Paddington,” said Abby. The ladies exchanged murmured greetings and bows. “My lord, I
believe you met my mother and aunt last Season at
Almack’s.”

“Indeed I did,” said Lord Darlington, bowing over
each of the elderly ladies’ hands.

Abby’s aunt peered up at the marquess with apprais
ing eyes. “Quite the buck,” she remarked. She slewed
around in her chair to address her niece. “I like him,” she said decidedly.

As Abby’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, she avoided Lord Darlington’s glance. A giggle from be
side her made her turn her head.

“I am so glad to see that I am not the only one with relations bent upon embarrassing me,” said Lady Bethany
behind her hand, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Abby could not help responding with a smile. In a
lowered voice she said, “Yes, I suppose we must all
have one or two, Lady Bethany.”

“Oh, that sounds so stuffy between friends!
Lady Bethany
!
We are going to be friends, aren’t we? Pray do call me Bethany!”

Abby was slightly taken aback by the impulsive, im
patient note in the beauty’s voice. But when she
looked into the younger girl’s face, she saw that Lady Bethany
was being perfectly sincere. “I hope we
shall be friends, indeed,” she said shyly.

“Good! I
am
glad. I liked you on first meeting, and
I am never wrong about someone,” said Lady Bethany with
a brilliant smile. Her attention at that instant was
claimed by an inquiry from Lady Darlington, who had fallen into easy conversation with Mrs. Fairchilde and
Mrs. Paddington.

Lord Darlington took the opportunity to sit down
in the vacant chair beside Abby. He glanced at her, a
smile on his almost perfectly featured face. Looking
at him, Abby thought that his could almost have been
called an effeminate face, except for the determined
mouth and chin, the undoubted shadow of beard in his lean cheeks, and the bold way he looked at one.

As she realized that Lord Darlington was studying her with as much interest as she was him, she flushed
to the roots of her hair. She dropped her eyes in con
fusion. “Oh! I am s-sorry!”

He touched her hand lightly. “Pray don’t be afraid
of me, Miss Fairchilde. I am accounted a cold fellow
by many, but I assure you that I would not deliber
ately put you out of countenance.”

“Oh, no! I am certain you would not,” said Abby
hurriedly, raising her eyes to meet his unreadable
gaze. “It is just that I am so stupidly backward, you
see. I color up at the least provocation.”

“I shall take care not to provoke you, then,” said
Lord Darlington, a slight smile touching his thin lips.
“Are you enjoying the play?”

Abby was grateful to him for offering a safe topic
and casually turning aside her attack of discomfort.
She was able therefore to converse quite easily with
him for several minutes. The time passed swiftly. She
was surprised when the door to the box opened and
her sister and brother-in-law reentered. “Oh! The cur
tain must be about to rise again.”

Lord Darlington rose to his feet. He reached down for her hand, and when she hesitantly gave it to him,
he carried it to his lips in elegant salute. His gaze
commanding hers, he said quietly, “I have enjoyed our
conversation, Miss Fairchilde.”

“And I, my lord,” said Abby shyly, smiling up at
him.

Within a few minutes, which were a flurry of re
newed introductions to the Crockets and leave-taking, the Darlington party exited to return to their own box.
When the door was shut, Mr. Crocker turned to his
wife. With a heavy frown he asked, “What was that
fellow doing here?”

“Abby met Lady Darlington and her daughter at
the milliner’s shop earlier today. I shall explain it all later,” said Mrs. Crocker quickly as the curtain below began rising,

“Lady Darlington and her daughter were all that
was gracious,” said Mrs. Fairchilde.

“For myself, I liked that young buck,” commented
Mrs. Paddington decisively.

As Abby turned back to the stage, a smile tugged
at her lips. She decided that she liked that young
buck, too.

Lady Darlington and her daughter paid a social visit the following day. Her ladyship apologized for not calling on the Crockers and Miss
Fairchilde earlier.
Mrs. Crocker graciously received them. Several
minutes passed in pleasant exchange, during which
Lady Darlington showed herself very friendly toward
Abby.

August came into the sitting room in order to in
form his sisters of his intention to join friends over dinner, and he stayed several minutes to converse gracefully with Lady Darlington and her daughter. It
was seen by his admiring glance in Lady Bethany’s direction
that he was quite taken with her. He parted reluc
tantly, but with the promise that he would strengthen
his acquaintance with the Darlingtons.

“Such a delightful, lively young man,” remarked
Lady Darlington with approval.

“Yes, August manages to keep us all on our toes,”
said Mrs. Crocker, smiling.

“I liked him excessively,” said Lady Bethany with a
giggle.

Abby beamed at her, pleased that her newly ac
quired friend liked her sibling. “He is quite one of my
favorite persons, even if he is my brother.”

Before taking her leave, Lady Darlington issued an
invitation for the Crockers and dear Miss Fairchilde
and her brother to attend a soiree that she was holding
for Lady Bethany. “And of course, Mrs. Fairchilde and Mrs. Paddington.”

Mrs. Crocker cast a swift glance
at her sister’s eager expression and civilly accepted. “I do not know whether my mother or aunt will accompany us. My mother is invalidish and she and my aunt generally prefer to remain at home.”

“Then if that is so, they will be missed,” said Lady Darlington with a smile.

When the Darlingtons had left, Mrs. Crocker said
thoughtfully, “Well, I must say you have made quite
a favorable impression on Lady Darlington and her
daughter, Abby.”

“I certainly don’t know why,” said Abby. She
looked inquiringly at her sister. “They both seem ex
tremely affable and well-bred, so there cannot be the
least objection, can there?”

“No, of course not. Though, I don’t know what
Peter will say about spending an evening as Lord Dar
lington’s guest,” said Mrs. Crocker with the hint of
a smile.

“Does Peter dislike Lord Darlington so very much?”
asked Abby, her gaze averted as she smoothed a crease
in her skirt.

“Oh, well, we hardly know his lordship. It is just
his coldness of manner and his taste for dandyism which
have given Peter, and myself, a disinclination for his
lordship’s company,” said Mrs. Crocker with a small
laugh. “However, that need not throw up a barrier
against an acquaintance with Lady Darlington and Lady Bethany. There are any number of personages in soci
ety that we may not particularly like, Abby, but I am
certain we shall treat all with proper civility.”

“Of course,” murmured Abby, feeling a lifting of
her spirits. She did not know why, but the anticipation
she felt for the Darlington soiree was much keener
than for any of their other social commitments. She
supposed it was because of how pleasant she had
found all of the Darlingtons to be, including the marquess
. For her part, she admired his nicety of dress.
His was not a grossly overstated style, such as the
padded and perfumed and ornamented practitioners
of the true dandy set; yet the marquess did not exemplify the Corinthian set, either, with their severe lack
of ornamentation or color.

The week went swiftly, filled as it was with several
social engagements. Abby met Lady Darlington and
Lady Bethany on different occasions, and while Lady Dar
lington treated her with a flattering distinction, Lady Bethany
quickly established herself as Abby’s bosom bow.
Abby became the younger woman’s confidante and
she came to enjoy the role, since it was the first time
anyone had ever asked her opinion or accepted her
thoughts as important.

As they walked arm in arm one afternoon in the park, Lady Bethany cast a swift glance behind her to see
that their chaperoning maids had dropped back out of
earshot. In a confiding voice she said, “Dearest Abby!
You will never guess what has transpired!”

“Then, you must tell me,” said Abby warmly.

“Do you recall my telling you about a particular
admirer of mine?” asked Lady Bethany.

“Vividly! I gathered he was an Adonis and a verita
ble god among lesser mortals,” said Abby teasingly.

Lady Bethany laughed as a tinge of color rose in her face.
“I suppose I must have sounded very silly to you.”

Abby pressed her hand. “Not at all! I perceive nothing wrong in falling in love with someone whom you
admire.”

“Oh, I am so glad you agree! The thing is, Abby,
he has followed me to London!” said Lady Bethany on a
breathy laugh. Her eyes sparkled with a particularly
radiant light.

“That is news, indeed!” exclaimed Abby. With a
smile she said, “I will be most curious to be introduced
to this gentleman whose name you have never
revealed.”

“I am certain you will meet him everywhere!” said Lady Bethany airily. She slid a speculative glance at her
companion. “However, I shan’t introduce you to him,
Abby. You see, Sylvan does not approve of his adora
tion for me.”

Abby shot her a startled, dismayed look. “I
am sorry, Bethany! It—it must make it very awkward
for you.”

“Oh, yes,” agreed Lady Bethany, with a lowering of her
countenance. “It is of all things the most unfair! If
Sylvan had the least bit of human feeling, he would
understand how I feel.”

“Perhaps Lord Darlington considers your admirer to be unworthy of you,” suggested Abby tentatively.

“Of course he does! That is just it!” exclaimed
Lady Bethany, beaming her approval of her companion’s
quick wit. “I knew you would understand, Abby! Syl
van dragged me up to London simply to separate us.
But now my darling has followed me. Does not that
prove his devotion to me? So I must and I shall see
him!”

“Shouldn’t you abide by your brother’s wishes? I
am positive his lordship has only your best interests
at heart,” said Abby with a twinge of unease. She felt
wholly inadequate at preaching wisdom to the head
strong beauty pacing beside her.

“Pooh! Nonsense! Sylvan cares only that I make a
brilliant match. He cares nothing for my heart!” said Lady Bethany dramatically. Tears stood on the ends of her
lashes. “I am totally distraught, Abby! It is cruel—oh,
so cruel!—to keep us apart like this!”

Abby’s compassion was stirred. Though she could
not imagine that Lord Darlington was quite the ogre
Lady Bethany had painted him, her friend’s distress yet
moved her. “I am so sorry, Bethany. If there was any
thing that I could do—”

“Oh, Abby!” Lady Bethany stopped short in the path,
turning toward her enthusiastically. “There is some
thing you can do!”

Abby was taken aback, and immediately disclaimed.
“I am sorry, Bethany! I could not possibly speak to Lord Darlington on your behalf. I am not on such
intimate terms with him that I—”

“Oh, I know that! Sylvan would not listen to you
even if you were to speak to him,” said Lady Bethany, wav
ing aside Abby’s objection. She saw that the maids
were coming close, and she urged Abby to walk again.
Leaning close to Abby’s ear, she said conspiratorially,
“I was hoping you could give my admirer a message
for me.”

Now Abby stopped short, pulling away, a shocked expression on her face. “Lady Bethany! Of course I couldn’t
do such a thing!”

Lady Bethany tugged at her arm and drew her down the
path again. “Don’t stop walking, Abby! We will cer
tainly be overheard.”

Abby obediently continued their stroll, but all of
her pleasure in it was dashed. All of her thoughts were
on the outrageous suggestion thrown out by her
friend. “Really, Bethany, I don’t know how you could
ask such a thing of me.”

“All I wish to do is to write a small note. I just
want to tell Rich—to tell my admirer that he must
keep his distance because Sylvan dislikes the notion
of his suit so,” said Lady Bethany, swallowing a sob. She
looked pleadingly at Abby. “Do you not see, Abby?
It is so unjust of Sylvan! My brother won’t even allow
me to tell him that I must not think of him. He must believe I am the biggest beast in nature for acting so
coldly toward him, when we were used to be such
good friends!”

“Oh!” Abby wasn’t certain that she quite under
stood. However, Lady Bethany seemed sincerely distressed, and she did understand that. All too often her own
preferences had been overrun by stronger personali
ties than her own. The reflection that Lady Bethany was
not particularly weak-willed occurred to her, but her
sensitivity brushed aside logic. All of her sympathies
had been aroused. “Oh, dear! I quite see how op
pressed and unhappy you must feel.”

Lady Bethany nodded, her mouth drooping in contempla
tion of her blighted life. “It is very hard to bear, I
assure you! When I meet my admirer’s reproachful
glances, it is all I can do not to burst into tears and
rush into his arms! But that would never do!”

“No, it would not!” said Abby in strong agreement.

“Now can you see how I have been driven to ask this favor of you, Abby? Will you not give my note to him, for my sake?” asked Lady Bethany.

Abby felt herself wavering. She was reluctant to
agree, for it
all smacked of the clandestine, but she
was not proof against Lady Bethany’s pleading gaze. Sigh
ing, she nodded. “I trust I am not making a mistake.”

Lady Bethany shrieked and threw her arms around her.
“Thank you, my dearest of friends! I shall never ask another thing of you, I promise! Oh, Abby, how happy
you have made me!”

Abby laughed as she threw a glance backward at their chaperones. She realized it was not only their maids who were looking curiously at them, but that
they were being given a few stares from passersby as
well. “This is all very well, Lady Bethany, but everyone is
looking at us.”

Lady Bethany tucked her gloved hand back into Abby’s
arm, “I don’t care. I am so very happy. I shall write the
note for you to give him this very evening. It will be
the easiest thing in the world, I am persuaded, because
it will be the biggest squeeze at Lady Tarleton’s.”

“But I won’t know who he is,” said Abby, at once
attacked by panic. She felt like she was about to step
off of a precipice, and she didn’t know how deep it
was.

“Never mind! I shall point him out to you before
hand. You are sure to be introduced to him, if you haven’t already made his acquaintance, for Rich—he
is received everywhere,” said Lady Bethany breezily.

“Then, I haven’t the least notion why your brother
should object to this gentleman’s gallantry,” said Abby
with uncharacteristic tartness.

“It has me in quite a puzzle, too,” agreed Lady Bethany.

With mutual agreement, the two friends turned and
retraced their steps to their individual carriages. Lady Bethany
assured Abby that she would take care of that small matter as soon as she returned home. Abby
smiled and agreed, still having mixed feelings over the
whole matter.

Upon her return to the town house, her worried thoughts were given a new direction. Mrs. Crocker asked her into the sitting room, and when Abby went
in, she gestured grandly at the posies residing on the
occasional table. “What think you of that, Abby! Two
posies delivered for you this afternoon! One is from
Lord Fielding, naturally. The other is from Lord Dar
lington, of all people!”