Mischief (16 page)

This time his tone of voice had some impact on Imogen. She stopped pacing and turned to stare at him. “But, my lord, you do not appear to comprehend Patricia’s anxious nature. I am merely attempting to explain that she, too, possesses extremely delicate sensibilities, just as you yourself do and that she—”

“I do not give a damn about her nerves,” Matthias said through his teeth. “I have done my duty by my half sister. I have provided her with a roof over her head. From what I saw out there in the hall a short while ago, I shall very shortly be paying some extremely large bills. I am prepared to settle a suitable portion on her when she marries. You cannot ask any more of me.”

“But, sir, you speak only of your financial obligations. I grant you that they are important, but not nearly so
crucial as kindness and brotherly affection. That is what your sister needs most at the moment.”

“Then she should not have thrown herself on my mercy.”

“But surely you feel some degree of warmth toward her.”

“I made her acquaintance for the first time a few days ago,” Matthias said. “I barely even know her.”

“Well, she knows entirely too much about you, sir, and it appears that everything she has learned is wrong.” Imogen gave a tiny snort of disgust. “She actually believes that there is some foundation for that outrageous nickname you acquired. Can you imagine? It is up to you to correct her false impression.”

Matthias needed to move. He forced himself to walk slowly, deliberately, to the window. When he reached it, he stood there, staring blindly out into the garden. “What makes you so bloody certain that it is a false impression?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, my lord. You are Colchester of Zamar.” She waved a hand to indicate the library and its treasures. “Any man who possesses your elevated taste in artifacts, your keen perception of the history of ancient Zamar, your passion for its wonders … well. Such a man cannot possibly be lacking the warmer emotions and delicate sensibilities.”

He swung around to face her. “I give you fair warning. You do not know me nearly so well as you seem to think you do. A lack of knowledge can be extremely dangerous.”

Imogen looked confused rather than dismayed by his harsh words. Then her eyes softened. “I can see that this is a painful subject for you, sir.”

“Not painful. Boring.”

She smiled wryly. “As you wish. But I urge you to bear in mind that your sister is extremely distraught. From our conversation today, I collect that she is all alone in the world. You are the only person to whom she can turn. I would have you remember two things, my lord.”

“I have a feeling that I shall not escape this damnable conversation until you have spelled those two things out for me in detail. Get on with it.”

“First, I would have you recall that regardless of whatever happened, Patricia is innocent. As you are yourself. Second, bear in mind that just as you are the only close relation she has in the world, she is the only one you have, my lord. The two of you must stick together.”

“Bloody hell. Who told you about the history of my family?”

“I do not know a great deal about it,” Imogen said. “But I assume from what Patricia said this afternoon that there was a rift between you and your father following the death of your mother.”

“You are correct, Imogen. You know nothing at all about the matter. I suggest you do not interfere. I have fulfilled the promise I made to my father, and that is the end of it.”

“You are both very fortunate to have each other, you know,” Imogen said quietly. “In the months following the death of my parents, I would have sold my soul for a brother or a sister.”

“Imogen—”

She turned and walked to the door, where she halted again briefly, her hand on the knob. “I almost forgot. There is one other thing I intended to tell you.”

Matthias watched her with brooding fascination. “Pray, do not contain yourself another second, Miss Waterstone.”

“I encountered Vanneck in a bookshop today. I can safely report that he has taken the bait. He is even now planning to form a consortium. My scheme is afoot.”

She went out the door. Ufton closed it behind her.

Matthias shut his eyes and groaned. His delicate nerves were not going to survive this affair unscathed. He would be fortunate if he did not find himself locked away in Bedlam before the thing was finished.

M
atthias walked to the balcony rail and looked down at the crowded ballroom. It was nearly midnight and the soiree was at high tide. The chandeliers cast a brilliant light over the elegantly dressed men and women below. His mouth twisted in mild disgust. He had no use for Society.

It took him only a moment to locate Imogen among the dancers. His eye went to her as if she were the only woman in the room. For a moment he allowed himself to enjoy the vision. The green silk skirts of her gown flirted about her ankles. She wore matching dancing slippers and long green gloves. Ringlets of tawny hair peeked out from beneath a towering evening turban.

She would have been a riveting sight, Matthias thought, if it were not for the fact that she was in the arms of Alastair Drake. The only consolation was that Drake was obviously having difficulty maintaining his balance. Even from where he stood, Matthias could see that Imogen was charting the course across the floor. He grinned briefly and felt his mood lighten.

He pulled his attention away from Imogen and searched for his sister. He was surprised to see Patricia in the center of a cluster of male admirers. She looked flushed and excited. Her pink and white gown was all that was proper for a well-bred, stylish young lady.

Horatia stood dutifully nearby, smiling with the air of a proud hen presenting her only chick. She was chatting with Selena, Lady Lyndhurst, who was her customary celestial self in a pale blue gown.

Well, that took care of one problem, Matthias thought. Thanks to Imogen and Horatia, his sister was a success. With any luck, his solicitor would be drawing up marriage settlement papers by June.

His sense of satisfaction vanished when he noticed that Hugo Bagshaw was making his way through the crowd toward Patricia. His hand tightened around the balcony rail. He made a note to warn his sister that Bagshaw’s attentions were not to be encouraged.

Matthias glanced again at Imogen, who had just finished the waltz with Drake. He could tell that she was waxing enthusiastic on some subject, most likely lost Zamar. She motioned energetically with her fan as she made a point. She was so involved with her subject that she failed to see a nearby footman who carried a tray full of glasses. Unfortunately, Drake did not notice the impending disaster either until it was too late.

Matthias winced as Imogen swept her fan out in a wide arc and dashed several glasses of champagne to the floor. Then he leaned forward to watch the animated spectacle that ensued. The hapless guests in the immediate vicinity hopped quickly aside.

The footman cast a reproachful look at Imogen and then went to his knees to retrieve the bits of broken glass. Imogen, looking extremely distressed, stooped to assist him. She was forcibly constrained from doing so by Drake, who hastily whisked her away from the scene.

It was all over in a matter of moments. Matthias smiled to himself as he turned and strode toward the staircase.

It took several minutes to reach Imogen, who now stood with Patricia, Horatia, and Selena. When he arrived, the young men gathered in the vicinity quickly edged aside to allow him to make his way to the center of the circle. He could see Hugo watching him from the outer perimeter.

Imogen spotted Matthias first. “Ah, there you are, Colchester. We have been waiting for you. Patricia is a huge success. Horatia and I have been obliged to beat off her admirers with a large stick.”

Several of the young gentlemen laughed uneasily, their wary gazes on Matthias.

“Indeed.” Matthias surveyed Patricia, who smiled at him rather anxiously, as though she awaited his verdict. Imogen kicked Matthias’s ankle with the toe of her dancing slipper. He glanced at her and saw from her expression that he was supposed to say something more. “I can
certainly comprehend why Miss Waterstone and her aunt have had to protect you. Congratulations, Patricia. You are a diamond of the first water tonight.”

Patricia blinked in surprise. Her cheeks turned pink and relief shone in her eyes. She visibly regained a measure of confidence. “Thank you, sir.”

Selena gave a husky laugh. “The
on-dit
is that your charming sister has promised every dance, Colchester.”

“Excellent.” Matthias looked at Imogen. “Well, then, that’s that. May I have this dance, Miss Waterstone?”

“Of course, my lord. I would be delighted.” Imogen swung around and led the way toward the dance floor.

With a sigh, Matthias reached out, seized hold of her elbow, and dragged her to a halt. She gave him a startled glance.

“Is there something amiss, my lord? Did you change your mind?”

“Not at all. I merely thought it might be pleasant to walk out onto the floor at your side rather than to follow you as if I were a hound on a leash.”

“Oh. Sorry. Take your time, sir. I did not mean to rush you. Occasionally I forget that yours is not an athletic nature.”

“I am grateful for your understanding.” Matthias guided her to the dance floor with a firm grip and took her into his arms. “You appear to be in fine form tonight.”

“I enjoy excellent health, sir. Always have.”

“I am delighted to hear that.” Matthias applied sufficient force to take charge of the waltz. It was a challenge. “I was, however, referring to your looks rather than your health. That gown is extremely attractive on you.”

Imogen glanced down as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. “It is quite lovely, isn’t it? Madame Maud made it. Horatia tells me that she is very exclusive.” She looked up. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased to learn that Horatia thinks Patricia has been well received tonight. The invitations will no doubt pour in tomorrow.”

“I owe you and your aunt a debt of gratitude for taking charge of Patricia’s social life.”

“It was no trouble at all, sir. Horatia tells me that Lady Lyndhurst has invited Patricia to attend her Zamarian salon which meets tomorrow. Quite a coup. She will meet any number of young ladies her own age there.”

“I doubt that she’ll learn much about ancient Zamar, however,” Matthias said dryly. “Selena’s salon is nothing more than a fashionable amusement.”

“I see.” Imogen’s brows drew together in a frown of concentration as she attempted to steer him in a different direction. “Well, there is no great harm in that, my lord.” She sounded a trifle breathless from her exertions.

“Perhaps not.” Matthias glanced past her shoulder and saw that Hugo had led Patricia out onto the floor. “But there may be a problem with young Bagshaw’s attentions. I shall speak to Patricia tomorrow about him.”

Imogen’s eyes widened. “What on earth is wrong with Mr. Bagshaw? He seems a very respectable gentleman.”

“I suspect his interest in Patricia is motivated more by his wish to avenge himself against me than it is pure admiration of my sister.”

“What in the world are you talking about, sir?”

“It’s a long story.” Matthias whirled her around in a wide, sweeping circle that brought them close to the French doors. “Suffice it to say that young Bagshaw holds me accountable for his father’s decision to blow his brains across the wall of his study.”

“You cannot be serious. What happened?”

“Arthur Bagshaw lost most of his fortune in a shipping venture that failed. The night he learned of the loss he came to The Lost Soul. He was very drunk and sunk in melancholy. I suppose he had some notion of recouping his losses at my gaming tables. I refused to let him play.”

“That was very decent of you, sir. Bagshaw obviously could not afford to lose whatever money he had left.”

“I don’t know how decent my action was,” Matthias
said dryly. “Bagshaw and I quarreled. He went home and took out his pistol. That is all there is to the tale.”

“Dear God,” Imogen whispered. “Poor Hugo.”

Matthias brought her to a halt. “Hugo blames me for what happened. He believes that his father lost his fortune in The Lost Soul.”

“You must set him straight at once, sir.”

“Some other time.”

“But, Matthias, this is really too—”

“I said I’ll take care of the matter some other time. At the moment I wish to speak to you.”

“Certainly, my lord.” Imogen unfurled her fan. She began to wave it industriously. “It is a trifle warm in here, is it not?”

“Have a care with that weapon.” Matthias drew her out through the terrace doors. “I have recently witnessed its destructive capability.”

“What?” She frowned at the fan and then her face cleared. “Oh, I collect you saw my unfortunate little mishap a few minutes ago. It was not my fault, sir. The footman was standing directly behind me. We never saw each other until it was too late. Just one of those things. That’s why they call them mishaps.”

“Indeed.” Matthias eyed the colorful lanterns that decorated the terrace and then elected to steer Imogen down the steps and deep into the night-shrouded gardens.