Regency Romance Collection From Christina Courtenay (13 page)

‘
De rien
.’ Dupont beamed at her and winked. ‘I ’ope you steal some of the other
Mademoiselle
’s young men.’

Ianthe smiled back. Just one of them would do nicely.

Lady Betterley’s ballroom was so crowded Ianthe thought to herself that no one would be able to dance. Nonetheless, to her amazement her dance card soon filled up, although she kept a few dances free just in case she needed a breathing space; or so she told herself.

‘Ladies, have you saved us any dances?’

The voice, deep, melodious and strangely unsettling, startled Ianthe out of her contemplation of the throng. She turned to find Wyckeham and his brother bowing to Serena and Lady Templeton.

‘But of course, we’ve only just arrived so there are plenty left,’ Serena lied and was quick to thrust her card at the marquess before Ianthe had time to so much as greet him.

Wyckeham scrawled his name somewhere seemingly at random, which made Serena frown slightly, then handed the card to his brother before holding out his hand for Ianthe’s. His eyes seemed to rake over her as he took in the green dress and he nodded in approval. ‘Lovely,’ he murmured, so quietly that only she heard him. Ianthe felt her cheeks heat up and realised it was his opinion she had sought. No one else’s mattered. She was glad now that she had made the effort.

When he gave her card back, she glanced at it and noticed that he had claimed the supper dance. She blinked and looked up, opening her mouth to ask if he really wished for that particular one, but shut it again when he winked at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘I shall see you later,’ he said before disappearing through the crowd.

Serena frowned after him and looked at her own card. ‘He’s only claimed one dance,’ she complained.

‘All the more for me,’ Lord Robert smiled, and Serena had to be content with that.

By the time the supper dance was announced, Ianthe was more than ready for a break. Her feet were throbbing from so much unaccustomed exercise and her stomach ached with hunger. As Wyckeham came to claim her, however, she forgot any discomfort and followed him on to the floor. It was another waltz, and just like at Almack’s, he twirled her round the room gracefully.

‘Are you enjoying the evening?’ he asked.

‘Yes, thanks to you,’ she replied, then felt herself blush as she realised the words had come out all wrong. ‘I mean, because you danced with me at Almack’s, everyone else has decided to follow suit, so I’m no longer a wallflower.’

He smiled a lazy smile that sent waves of heat through her body. ‘And there was I thinking you meant you were enjoying only this dance with me,’ he teased.

‘Of course I am, but …’

‘But you’re too well brought up to ever say such a thing. Unlike your sister, who I believe would use any means to further her ends.’

‘Oh dear, what did she say to you?’ Ianthe felt both shame and pleasure that the marquess seemed to see through her sister so easily. She ought to have been embarrassed, but she was happy to find at least one man who didn’t immediately fall for Serena’s wiles.

‘Nothing I couldn’t handle,’ he said enigmatically.

When the dance came to an end, he held out his arm and escorted her towards the supper room. They had only taken a few steps, however, when Serena’s voice hailed them from behind.

‘There you are. Lord Robert and I thought we should find a table for four. So much more fun than sitting alone, don’t you think?’

Wyckeham stopped to let them catch up, and Ianthe thought she saw a look of impatience dart across his countenance, but he said nothing. The others were behind them in a trice, and Ianthe turned to walk with the marquess into the supper room. Before she had moved more than a foot, however, she was yanked backwards and there was a loud tearing noise behind her. She threw a look over her shoulder and gasped.

‘Oh, no, my dress!’ Searching with her fingers behind her back, she found that the lovely green silk had been torn where the skirt joined the bodice. The jagged edges of material flapped open, revealing a hole so large she must be showing the world a goodly portion of her shift.

‘Oops, so sorry, I must have stepped on the hem,’ Serena said, her eyes sparkling with victory. ‘You’ll have to go and mend it as best you can.’ She turned to Wyckeham and placed her hand on his arm, where only a minute before Ianthe’s had rested. ‘We can wait for her at the table, else we’ll starve to death. Come, gentlemen, let us eat.’

The marquess scowled at Serena, but she had already turned to urge Lord Robert to join them and didn’t notice.

‘Would you like me to escort you to the ladies’ withdrawing room?’ Wyckeham asked Ianthe, but she shook her head, too angry and mortified to speak. She had known Serena was capable of great malice, but this was beyond anything she’d ever done before.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she managed to grit out at last. ‘Please, go ahead without me. I’ll catch up.’

But as she turned to make her way to the ladies’ room, she knew that the sort of repairs needed to her dress would take ages, by which time supper would be over. And Serena would have charmed the marquess completely, the way she did all other men. Despite the fact that he had seen through her earlier, he was probably just like everyone else and he would fall prey to Serena’s beauty in the end. It was inevitable.

Ianthe took a deep breath and straightened her spine. Well, if he was that fickle, he wasn’t worth having.

Jason watched Ianthe leave the room and wondered if he should have escorted her after all. He could tell that she was mortified, and no wonder – that sister of hers was a real little baggage and there was no doubt she’d stepped on the gown on purpose.
It’s probably best to leave the poor girl alone for now so that she can compose herself.
The last thing she’d want was an audience. But as for the sister, he could deal with her.

He pretended to go along to the supper room meekly, but as the trio reached the table Miss Templeton had picked out, right in the centre of the room where no one could miss them, Jason stopped abruptly and pulled his arm out of her grip. ‘By Jove, if it isn’t Allington! Excuse me, but I’ve spotted an old friend over there whom I haven’t seen in ages. I must go and exchange a few words with him.’ He smiled a smile he knew was utterly false and added, ‘I’m sure you two would rather converse alone in any case.’
Well, Robert would.

Miss Templeton looked shocked, as if she wasn’t used to anyone declining to have supper with her. ‘But my lord,’ she protested, ‘surely it can wait until you’ve eaten? You must be famished. And I was so looking forward to your company.’

‘Oh, I’m sure I can grab something along the way. Don’t worry about me. And Robert is far better company than I could ever be.’
Especially for you.

And with a curt nod, he left Robert standing with what was definitely an outraged little termagant.

Oh, Robert, I hope you get over that particular infatuation very soon.

CHAPTER FIVE

Ianthe was the only person in the breakfast room the next day, as her mother and sister had gone out early in search of a new fan Serena was adamant she needed. This suited Ianthe just fine. She didn’t think she could find it in herself to be civil to her sister after what she had done the previous evening, and their mother was just as bad. She had insisted it was merely an unfortunate accident.

‘In such a crush, it could happen any time,’ Lady Templeton had said, as always anxious to avoid a confrontation. ‘You were just unlucky.’

‘Accident, hah,’ Ianthe muttered to herself now. ‘Not likely with Serena on the warpath.’ She tried to concentrate on the book of poetry lying open next to her plate, but somehow the words weren’t making any sense today and she closed it with an impatient snap. ‘Confound it.’

A knock on the door heralded Balfour, the butler, who held out a silver salver with a card on it. ‘There’s a gentleman in the hall who claims that you are going riding with him this morning. Had you forgotten, Miss?’

Ianthe knew Balfour would be well aware that she had made no such arrangements, else she would have told him, but he was too well trained to bat an eyelid. ‘I …’ She glanced at the card, which had ‘Wyckeham’ printed in large letters on it, and her heart flipped over unexpectedly. ‘Yes, oh dear, how silly of me. Would you be so kind as to ask him to wait? I’ll have to change, but I won’t keep him long.’

‘Of course, Miss.’

‘Thank you. And Balfour, have my horse saddled, please.’

‘No need, Miss. The gentleman has brought a mount for you. No doubt you had forgotten that as well.’ Ianthe thought she saw a small smile curve the butler’s mouth as he left the room, and she felt as if they were co-conspirators somehow.

She rushed upstairs and changed into her riding habit which, if not precisely fashionable, was at least a becoming shade of cornflower blue that she knew accentuated the colour of her eyes. It was done in the military style, which suited her figure, and as she came downstairs to find his lordship pacing the hall, it made her feel better to know that she looked as well as she could.

The look in his eyes as he caught sight of her confirmed this and made her smile. ‘I trust I haven’t kept you waiting for too long, my lord?’ she said while he bowed over her hand. ‘You should have reminded me of our, er, proposed outing yesterday.’

He tried to look contrite, but failed signally as Ianthe noticed the sparkle of mischief in his eyes yet again. ‘Yes, I should have, but I wasn’t sure you’d accept the invitation. Sometimes not giving people time to think about something makes them act on the spur of the moment. I was counting on that.’

‘I see.’ Ianthe could have told him that she would have jumped at the chance to go riding with him any time, but thought it best not to in case it made her seem too eager for his company.

‘And you didn’t keep me waiting,’ he added. ‘In fact, you were remarkably quick, but then I knew you would be.’

‘How could you possibly know that?’

He grinned at her. ‘Because I could tell from the very first time I set eyes on you that you’re not like other women.’

Ianthe blinked at the compliment – if compliment it was – but he didn’t allow her time to think about it. Instead, he led her outside and helped her on to the back of quite the most magnificent horse she had ever seen, a glossy black thoroughbred with long mane and tail, all brushed to perfection. ‘I made enquiries,’ Wyckeham said, ‘and was told you’re a bruising rider. I hope he’ll suit you?’

Ianthe beamed at him. ‘He’s perfect. I can’t wait to put him through his paces.’

‘Let’s go, then.’

They set off for the park, a groom riding slightly behind them for the sake of propriety, and Ianthe was not disappointed. As it was early, and not many people were about, they flouted the unwritten rules and let the horses have a good gallop. Ianthe enjoyed herself immensely, and was pleased when the horse followed her every lead. As they slowed to a trot, she bent over his neck to pat him and saw his ears twitching when she told him he was a gorgeous boy. She smiled at Wyckeham again. ‘I think he likes me. What’s his name?’

‘Midnight, of course. I thought he’d be perfect for you; he’s the same colour as your hair.’

They were now riding side by side along Rotten Row on the south side of Hyde Park and there were still only a few other riders about. Ianthe didn’t care since she found the usual crowd there a bore and without thinking, she said so.

Wyckeham laughed. ‘Indeed, one can almost imagine that one is in the country today. But don’t you prefer town living? Most young ladies do.’

‘No, not at all. I can’t wait to go home, in fact. All this forced merriment is very taxing and I find everyone false and back-stabbing. In the country, people may gossip, but it’s never seemed to me to be as malicious as it is here.’

‘You don’t like balls and routs?’ His eyes searched hers as if he wanted to make sure.

‘No, it’s all so superficial. Forced gaiety. I feel like I’m merely on show, a performer in some strange play. Country assemblies are much more fun.’

‘So you wouldn’t mind living most of the year in the country, then?’

‘Not at all. I would love it.’

‘And would you like to live in the country with me?’

Ianthe gasped in surprise and stared at him, before turning away in confusion. She felt her cheeks flaming with both shock and embarrassment. Was he asking her to become his mistress?
After only three days’ acquaintance!
Anger stirred inside her. What did he take her for? She may not be the toast of the town, but she wasn’t that desperate. ‘Really, my lord, I don’t think—’

‘Wyckeham! Hadn’t thought to see you out of bed so early.’

This greeting, drawled in a rather exaggerated way, cut Ianthe’s sentence off. She looked round to find the marquess scowling at a man that resembled him slightly, although he was smaller in build, his features more finely chiselled. Ianthe had never seen him before, so she assumed he had only recently come to town. Either that, or he spent all his evenings at quite a different sort of establishment to those she was invited to. She knew there were many men who didn’t care for the balls and other entertainments of the season, but kept to their clubs and places of ill repute. Perhaps he was one such?

Seated next to the man on his own horse was young Lord Robert, looking decidedly worse for wear. His eyes were almost crossing in an attempt to focus on them and his clothes were in complete disarray. The distinct aroma of alcohol emanated from him and Ianthe unconsciously wrinkled her nose.

‘Gervaise,’ the marquess replied curtly to the stranger and then nodded at his brother. ‘So that’s where you got to last night, Rob.’

Lord Robert had the grace to look sheepish and couldn’t quite meet his brother’s eye, but Wyckeham didn’t look at him for long. Instead he returned his gaze to the other man, who shrugged and pulled out a snuff box, from which he helped himself to a large pinch.

‘A night on the town, you know how it is. I was delighted to show our young kinsman the best places to find entertainment.’ The man smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, which appeared to Ianthe to be dark and cold. Fathomless in fact. She shivered.

‘Yes, I’m sure you were,’ Wyckeham replied, his mouth an uncompromising line of disapproval now. ‘So how many gaming hells did you manage to visit?’

‘Only about four, I believe,’ Gervaise replied airily, then threw a speculative glance at Ianthe. ‘But this isn’t a subject fit for a lady’s ears. Aren’t you going to introduce us, coz?’

Wyckeham looked like he wanted to avoid this at all cost, but good manners dictated that he must. ‘Miss Ianthe, this is a distant relative of mine, Gervaise Warwycke. Gervaise, Miss Ianthe Templeton.’

‘Ah, one of the famous twins one has heard so much about.’ Gervaise stood up in the saddle and gave her an exaggerated bow, while running his eyes over her from top to toe and back again in a manner that made her skin crawl.

‘How do you do?’ she said, not wanting to engage in conversation with him.

Wyckeham glanced at her and said, ‘We’d better be on our way. Gentlemen.’ He nodded curtly at both of them, and threw a parting shot over his shoulder at Lord Robert. ‘Get yourself home and into the bath. Then ask cook for a tisane. You’re going to need it.’

A dark shadow seemed to have descended upon them and they rode back to the Templeton house in silence. Ianthe decided now was not the time to discuss Wyckeham’s strange proposal, if that was what it had been. Perhaps if she pretended it had never happened, he wouldn’t refer to it again. To her consternation, however, as the marquess helped her down from the horse, he held her close to him for a moment, much too close for comfort and certainly not within the limits of propriety.

She glanced up at him with a frown to remonstrate, but he was looking down at her, an intense expression in his eyes, and she forgot what she had been about to say.

‘I didn’t mean to offend you,’ he said. ‘We will return to our conversation some other time, when I will try to express myself more clearly. And I’m sorry if I’ve been like a bear with a sore head, but I’m afraid meeting Gervaise always has that effect on me. Can’t stand the fellow.’

Ianthe took a deep breath to steady herself. Being held by him was disrupting her thought processes and she wasn’t sure what to make of his enigmatic words. She took refuge in common courtesy. ‘Well, thank you for taking me riding, my lord. I enjoyed it immensely.’

His eyes seemed to bore into hers and she wondered for a crazy moment if he was about to kiss her – in broad daylight – but he obviously thought better of it. ‘You’re welcome. We’ll have to do it again soon. Will I see you tonight?’

She nodded. ‘If you’re going to Mrs Etchilhampton’s rout, then yes, no doubt our paths will cross.’ She tried for a nonchalant tone, so as not to give the impression that she was eager for his company. And in truth, she wasn’t sure she was now. If all he was looking for was a mistress, then she wanted nothing to do with him.
Even if his touch sends thrills racing through me. No, especially then!

‘I’ll make sure of it,’ he said, before finally letting her go. Ianthe felt almost bereft and turned quickly to mount the steps to the front door so he wouldn’t see what effect he was having on her, but before she reached it, he added, ‘Save me the supper dance and tell your sister if she ruins your gown again, she’ll rue the day she was born.’

Jason was in a foul mood as he rode away from the Templeton’s house.
Damn Gervaise for interrupting!
Not to mention trying to corrupt his brother.
Of all the people Rob could decide to be friends with …
Jason swore softly. Gervaise was a viper.

‘Friend? Never!’

He’d tried to tell Rob to be careful of gaming hells and other such establishments, but it was all heady stuff for a youngster. ‘Don’t be so boring, Jason. I’m sure you didn’t exactly sit at home when you were my age,’ Rob had said.

This was true, but Jason had learned his lesson and he didn’t want Rob to have to do it the same way, the hard way.

‘I’m enjoying myself, and with your reputation, you’re the last man on earth to lecture me, aren’t you? Even Miss Templeton had heard of your supposed misdeeds. She asked me about them,’ Rob had added. He’d never been insolent to Jason before, but as his brother had been more than slightly foxed at the time, Jason had let this comment go. It still irritated the hell out of him that people couldn’t stop gossiping about Elizabeth’s death, though.

So she fell down some stairs and broke her pretty neck. Good riddance!
It had happened ages ago, and no one had been able to prove that it was anything other than an accident.

But he couldn’t help but wonder if Ianthe was also listening to gossip. He’d heard a slight hesitation in her voice just now when they were saying goodbye. Was she seeing him in a new light? Did he scare her?

He sincerely hoped not, because he was coming to realise that was the last thing on earth he wanted to do.