Regency Sting (25 page)

“I don't see how it could
fail
to please him,” Anne said with a smile.

“Right!” Orkle nodded in self-satisfaction. “The thing is, though, that Lord Mainwarin' don't seem inclined to go along wi' the idea.”

“No? Why not?”

“Says it'd be cuttin' too much of a dash for 'im. Lord Mainwarin' don't like 'is clothes to attrack any partickler notice, y'see. 'E says 'e likes to be unobtroosive.”

Anne couldn't help laughing. “As if a man his size could ever be unobtrusive!”

“That's me thought exackly! Wot 'arm, I axes yer, could come from the fold of a neckcloth? That's why I 'oped that
you
…”

“… that I could persuade him?”

“Yes, miss, that's the ticket.”

Anne sighed. “My influence with his lordship is not at all great, Mr. Orkle. I'm very much afraid I've not been successful of convincing him of
anything
. However, I shall certainly try.”

Mr. Orkle thanked her effusively and withdrew, leaving her smiling broadly at his naive but ingenious plan. While the smile still lingered on her lips, Peter came looking for her. “I've been thinking,” he said without preamble, “about this silly ostracism that Jason's had to endure—”

“Not you, too?” Anne interrupted with a laugh.

“Oh? Has it been worrying you also?” Peter asked innocently.

“It seems to have been worrying
everyone
. Don't tell me you've thought of a solution.”

“Perhaps I have,” Peter said, taking the chair facing his sister and leaning toward her with purposeful earnestness. “The Prince is quite interested in the Royal Academy of Arts, you know. He made a speech there last month and even gave them a rather splendid bronze lamp as a gift. My thought was that Jason should do something similar.”

“I don't think I follow—”

“What if Jason presented something to the Academy in honor of the Regent? Word of the presentation would be bound to get back to the Prince, wouldn't it? And he'd be bound to be pleased.”

“I don't know,” Anne mused. “What sort of thing could Jason present to the Academy?”

“One of the family portraits, perhaps … or a piece of sculpture from the manor house at Derbyshire. You know the sort of thing the Academy collects.”

“Mmmm. It certainly
sounds
like a good plan,” Anne said thoughtfully. “At least it appears to be less servile or obsequious than some of the others I've heard, for the gift would be made to the Academy and not to the Prince. On that basis, you may have a
hope
of convincing Jason. Why don't you ask him at dinner tonight?”

“I can ask him this afternoon, for he's taking me to a cricket match,” Peter suggested, “unless you think it would be more advantageous to wait until dinnertime when we can make the proposal together.”

“Ask him at the cricket match, by all means,” Anne said decidedly. “I don't think my presence at dinner would be of any strategic value at all.”

If Anne imagined that her interview with Peter was the last one in which a suggestion to bring about the desired reconciliation between the Regent and Jason would be made, she was to be proved mistaken. For shortly after Peter and Jason had left the house for the afternoon, Anne had another visitor. It was Cherry, and no sooner had Anne seated her in the sitting room and perched on the sofa beside her when Cherry broached the very same subject. “I've been thinking about Jason's problem,” she began eagerly, “and I believe I've a suggestion to bring about a solution.”

“Oh, Cherry, not you,
too
!” Anne exclaimed with a gurgle of laughter. “I've been receiving suggestions for the past two days!”

“Have you really? How fortunate! Have any of them been promising?”

Anne shrugged. “How can they be, when Jason is so adamantly set against making an effort in his own behalf? But, pray, don't keep me in suspense. What is
your
contribution?”

“It is not very substantial, I'm afraid, but it is the only thing I could think of …”

“Really, Cherry, you're always so lacking in confidence. Tell me your plan, and without these unnecessary reservations.”

“Well, then, you know how fond Mama is of cards—whist and hearts and games of chance. She holds a card party at least twice during the season. I've heard that the Prince is fond of cards, too, so I've persuaded her to send him an invitation to her next. Of course, I don't know if he'll accept, but Mrs. Fitzherbert is fond of play, and Mama expects
her
to be present, and you know that the Prince often accompanies her. So we have every hope …”

“I don't know if the scheme will work, Cherry. Jason doesn't indulge in card games very often. Perhaps he may be persuaded, if you don't tell him that the Prince is expected. Why don't you ask him? If you turn your large, melting eyes on him, he may not be able to refuse you.”

Cherry blushed. “Oh, Anne, you're a dreadful tease. You know very well that Lord Mainwaring takes no special notice of me.”

“Well, if it's any comfort to you, he takes no special notice of me, either.”

“When shall I ask him?” Cherry inquired, determined to complete her mission. “Is he expected home shortly?”

“I couldn't say. He neither asks my permission to take his leave nor informs me of his intentions in the matter of his return. Jason, my dear, is nothing if not independent. I think these Americans drink independence with their mothers' milk. I believe, however, that he's gone to a cricket match and is not expected back until dinnertime.”

“In that case, will
you
ask him for me? I've brought along an invitation.”

Anne nodded, but without enthusiasm. “I'll deliver it, Cherry, but you shouldn't count on his attending. Jason is not easily persuaded.”

Cherry's face fell. “Oh, dear, then you don't think he'll come?” she asked tragically.

“I must say, Cherry,” Anne remarked in some surprise, “that, although your sympathetic nature is well known to all the world, I had not thought you would be
quite
so troubled about Jason's problems.”

“I'm
not
troubled about Jason's problems. It's
you
I'm troubled about,” Cherry said flatly.

“
Me
? I don't understand. What have
I
to do with this?”

Cherry faced her friend with an expression of profound disapproval. “Really, Anne, I sometimes fail to understand you. Did you not postpone your
elopement
because of this?”

“Yes, but—”

“Didn't it occur to you to wonder if Arthur is upset by your—I hope our friendship is strong enough to withstand blunt speaking—your
neglect
? For how else is he to view your request for postponement except as neglect of him? How can you love him and have no sympathy for his pain?”

Anne's eyes flew to Cherry's face in mortification. “Oh, Cherry, I'm a
beast
! I don't
deserve
Arthur. And I don't deserve a friend like you.” She jumped up and began to pace the room, her feelings of guilt and remorse overwhelming her. “But I shall make it all up to him! I shall be ready to leave with him the moment this business with Jason is resolved.” She sat down beside her friend and grasped Cherry's hands. “And, Cherry, I shall do my best … my
very
best … to make him a good wife. I shall be as devoted and patient and loyal as I can possibly be, I promise you.”

Cherry, struggling with her own guilt, took no notice of the tone of self-sacrifice in Anne's words. Moved to tears, she held out her arms, and the friends embraced. “You will be happy,” Cherry said in a quivering whisper. “I know you will. But you must leave for Gretna
soon
!”

“I'll leave with him
very
soon,” Anne assured her. The girls broke apart and wiped their eyes. “Surely, with so many suggestions for bringing about a reconciliation with the Prince,
one
of them is bound to work.”

But Anne and Cherry were about to learn that the more carefully humans plan to take control of their fates, the more likely it is that Fate herself will step in to take matters into her own capricious hands.

The cricket match was held at the Artillery Ground, Finsbury, and Jason was surprised at the number of people who turned out for the game. Londoners of all classes arrived on foot, on horseback, or in every conceivable type of equipage on wheels. Jason, who had driven a light phaeton, had to spend a good deal of time finding a place to leave the vehicle. By the time they'd found a proper place and instructed the tiger on caring for the horses, the match was under way. Peter thought he'd heard the sound of a band playing “Rule, Britannia,” indicating that a member of the Royal Family was present, but he gave the matter no thought in his eagerness to get to the playing ground to witness the game.

Peter found the match quite exciting; he'd shouted himself hoarse by the end of it. But Jason, who had never witnessed a cricket match before and was not familiar with the finer points of the game, found the match rather a bore. He saw nothing very fascinating in a wild melee of twenty-two men running back and forth across a field in a meaningless confusion. He kept his feelings to himself, however, for he had no wish to dampen Peter's enjoyment.

But it was with considerable relief that he greeted the finish of what had seemed an endless game. “Does it always take
four hours
?” he asked Peter.

“Sometimes much longer,” Peter said proudly. “I've heard of a game that lasted two whole days!”

They tried to make their way back across the field toward the phaeton, but the excited, milling crowd all about them impeded their progress. Suddenly, Peter gasped. “Good Lord! It's the
Prince
!”

Jason followed Peter's eye to the right, where the crowd was particularly thick and excited. In the midst of the throng, shaking hands with one of the players, was the Regent, evidently enjoying the carnival atmosphere. “Quickly, Peter, let's turn off this way,” Jason muttered. “I've no wish for the embarrassment of coming face-to-face with him.”

They turned and moved as quickly as the crowd would permit to their left. But they'd not gone four paces when a stentorian voice stopped them in their tracks. “I say, Mainwaring, is that you?” the Prince called.

Jason had no choice but to turn around. Taking Peter's arm, he approached the royal presence as the crowd drew back to make a passageway for them. “How do you do, your highness?” Jason said politely when he was near enough to be heard. Then, bowing, he added, “May I present my cousin, Peter Hartley?”

The Prince smiled at Peter with warm condescension and shook his hand. Then he turned back to Jason. “I haven't seen you for quite a while, old fellow. Where have you been keeping?”

“Close to home, I fear,” Jason murmured.

“I shouldn't do that, if I were you,” the Prince said, wagging a finger at him. “Not at the height of the season, you know. Not at all the thing. But you are the
very
man I wanted to see.”

“
I
, your highness?” Jason asked in astonishment.

“Yes. I've been told that you're an excellent judge of horseflesh. Is that right?”

“I don't know about that, your highness,” Jason demurred.

“Don't be so modest, man. I remember distinctly being told that you won a race against Minton with a horse you'd just bought. Not an easy man to best in a race, Miles Minton. So come along with me … yes, right now … I want to show you the horse I have with me. He's a prime bit of blood I've just acquired. I'd like to know what you think of him.”

Jason had just time enough to cast Peter an astonished glance before the Regent placed an arm about his shoulders and walked off with him through the crowd. The members of the Prince's retinue and those members of the
ton
in the crowd who were privvy to the events at the Prince's dinner party gaped in surprise. As the crowd surged along in the wake of the Prince, there were several who smiled at each other in knowing amusement at the caprices of royalty.

Peter followed along, grinning widely. What a tale he had to tell when he got home! He could easily imagine Anne's and his mother's faces when they heard that the Prince had embraced Jason like a long-lost brother. “He didn't even
remember
that there had been a rift!” Peter would tell them with a chortle. It was all so ridiculous. It was all so baffling. But the conclusion was inescapable—one astounding fact was clear: Jason's ostracism was over!

Twenty

The Dowager Duchess of Richmond, paying a morning call on Harriet, expressed her delight at Lord Mainwaring's success in achieving so envied a place in the very heart of society. The Prince had taken him under his wing with renewed enthusiasm. The Duchess had already noticed that Mainwaring's quips were being repeated everywhere, Mainwaring's way with a neckcloth was being copied by all the dandies, and Mainwaring's prowess on horseback was being universally praised. “Reminds me of the time that Franklin fellow took London by storm, back in the nineties. Remember, Harriet?”

Many elderly Londoners were beginning to remark, as did the Duchess, that not since the days of Benjamin Franklin had an American made such a mark. The Corinthians, the Dandies, the politicians and the ladies all found something in him to admire. His wit, his horsemanship, his style, his Americanisms, his mischievous smile and easy address were again noticed and remarked upon. And in the Mainwaring household, the doldrums had miraculously disappeared, completely dispelled by the dazzling glow created by his lordship's renewed and heightened popularity.

The Duchess' morning call was merely the latest coup in a series of triumphs which Lady Harriet had scored in the fortnight since Jason had found himself reunited with the Prince. First there had been a visit from the Countess Lieven. Then she'd received a much-prized invitation from Lady Hertford. There had even been a proposal of marriage from the ludicrous but socially prominent, thrice-married Earl of Stanborough. But the most significant of all these indications of Lady Harriet's newly elevated importance was the considerably increased deference shown to her by her dressmaker.