Rescuing Rosalind (Three Original Ladies and Their Gentlemen) (5 page)

* * *

The next day in the interminable length of days ahead dawned early for Buck. His head pounding from the effects of too much brandy, he sought to clear it by riding in the park. Springing his new gelding, he galloped down Rotten Row several times before dispelling the incipient depression that plagued him. He realized as he trotted home that even after his words with Ruisdell, the only thing that he really wanted was to see Rosalind once more.
Really
see her. Without the veil.

Perhaps she was going to some social affair that evening. At home in his rooms was a stack of unopened invitations. Mayhap there was one for tonight. To an affair big enough that there was a chance of meeting the would-be actress.

Sir Henry and Lady Reynolds requested the pleasure of his company at a musical evening. The Marquis and Marchioness of Somerset begged the honor of his presence at a ball, while the Earl and Countess of Yarborough were holding a rout.

Buck did not understand what a rout might be in civilian terms. It sounded dreadfully fierce. A musical evening would undoubtedly be smaller than a ball. Less chance of Rosalind being in attendance. By this process of elimination, he chose to attend the Marquis of Somerset’s entertainment.

After spending an uneventful afternoon playing Faro at White’s, he partook of an early dinner and then repaired to his rooms to ready himself for the evening. Ten o’clock found him, once again, in a ballroom, once again seeking Rosalind.

To his surprise, his host knew of him. “Naval chap. Captain. Deuced good war,” the marquis greeted him, and at the same time introducing him to his marchioness. “Had it from Ruisdell.” He shook hands heartily and then allowed his tiny marchioness to have her hand kissed. She was quite unremarkable until she smiled and welcomed him. Her smile rendered her almost a beauty.

“I hope you will have a fine evening, Captain,” she said.

“Thank you, Lady Somerset.”

He entered the ballroom, assailed by the scent of many varieties of perfume. Almost at once, he sighted his lieutenant.

Strolling to his side, Buck clapped him on the back. “Clark! Well met! I didn’t think to see you again so soon.”

“I didn’t say anything yesterday, but the fact is, my brother stuck his spoon in the wall. Hunting accident. No love lost between us, so don’t bother with condolences. I’m the Viscount now. My mama’s pestering me to marry and set up my nursery.”

“Ah! At least that is one thing I am spared.”

“Lost your parents young, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Buck said shortly. He had no desire to refine upon the tragedy. “Congratulations, Clark! What must I call you now?”

“Westringham, if you must. I prefer Clark.”

“Have you eyes on anyone in particular, Lord Westringham?”

“That woman in gold dancing with the dashed tall fellow. Reddish hair.”

To Buck’s discomfiture, the woman proved to be his Rosalind. The events of their meeting yesterday sped through his mind. He and Rosalind must be adroit, or this could end up a tremendous coil!

“Oh? And have you been introduced?”

“Not yet. I don’t suppose you know her.”

“I do, as a matter of fact. She is a Miss Edwards. Her sister is the Duchess of Ruisdell.” He tugged on the wrists of his gloves. “What is it about her that interests you?”

The viscount laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s an Aphrodite in form and feature.”

“Hmm,” Buck said. “I would have said she’s a little on the slender side.”

“I don’t like my women running to fat.”

Buck persisted. “She’s a bit spoiled, if you must know. May be hard to control.”

“Trying to put me off?” Westringham asked. “Have an interest there yourself?”

“Not at all. Just friends. I’ve known Ruisdell since I was in short coats. Our formidable mamas grew up together.” As he had told the duke, Buck wasn’t interested in marriage. So what was this niggling objection to his friend’s choice? Could it be just that he worried Rosalind’s deception in Richmond would be uncovered?
When I caught her up by the waist, it was like lifting a slender reed. A very delicate reed.

“I’ll introduce you, shall I?”

“I’d be obliged, Captain.” He tipped an imaginary hat.

When the dance was at an end, they sought Rosalind out, though the tall man had not deserted her. Her arm rested on his sleeve and he was leaning down to whisper in her ear. She drew a hand up to her mouth and covered it as she laughed.

Well, this flirtation is best put a stop to, in all events. Her partner is surely a bounder.

“Miss Edwards?”

Rosalind looked at him in surprise at this form of address. Then her gaze went to his companion. Her turquoise eyes grew round. “Good evening, your lordship.”

Her tall companion looked upon Buck as though he were a particularly repellent snake. Buck offered him his hand. “Marquis of Deal,” he said.

“Earl of Warmsby.” Unbefitting his name, his hand was cold. For once Buck was glad that his own rank was superior.

“I would like to make my friend, Viscount Westringham, known to you both. He was my first lieutenant on board my last command.”

A look he could only call conspiratorial passed between him and Rosalind. She curtseyed. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, your lordship. How thrilling it must have been to serve under the captain. His stories make me quite quake in my slippers.”

What role was she playing now? Helpless little thing? It did not suit her at all.

Westringham bowed to her and shook hands perfunctorily with the Warmsby creature. “Are you engaged for this dance?” he asked Rosalind.

Her entire face lit. “Why no, your lordship.”

Buck’s former shipmate held out a hand. “Would you care to dance with me?”

“I would be delighted.”

The two moved off to the dance floor. Buck stood by Warmsby’s side and matched his glower. It was a waltz. The minx was dancing as though she thought herself in heaven. Westringham was undoubtedly completely taken in. He was a good man, but Rosalind would never marry anyone she could bamboozle so easily. Buck was very certain of that. And for once he was sorry that he could not dance.

{ 6 }

W
HAT WAS THE CAPTAIN ABOUT,
introducing her to this man who might so easily rumble her disguise? Thank heavens she had had the forethought to lower the register of her voice yesterday. She hoped the captain did not slip and call her Rosalind!

Fanny twirled in Westringham’s arms, easily focusing her practiced charm on him. Actually, he was a godsend, as Warmsby was becoming far too particular in his attentions and resentful of anyone else who dared speak with her. Elise would be surprised to know that her warnings had been sounding in Fanny’s head all evening, as Warmsby was never far away, except when she was dancing with another. Now he had had his two dances.

Perhaps she would suggest to Lord Westringham that they take a stroll on the terrace following this waltz.

“You seem so familiar to me,” the viscount said. “It is as though I have known you before.”

“I’m quite certain we’ve never met.”

“How long has it been since you were presented to the Queen?”

“Three years, my lord.”

“And I have been at sea in all that time. Do you think perhaps we met in a former life?”

This was sailing close to the wind, indeed! “I think you very fanciful, my lord.”

“We shall see. I have a very good memory, you know.”

After a breathtaking twirl about the room, she said, “Until three years ago, I was kept very close to home in Shropshire. So unless you hail from Shropshire, my lord, I can safely say that we have never met.”

“Your sister is the Duchess of Ruisdell, Deal tells me. Do you make your home with her now?”

“Yes. She and the duke and their two children have a townhouse called Shearings. It is off Berkeley Square. To the east.”

For a short time, the inquisition was ended. Fanny cast about for some neutral, non-threatening topic. “What was it like to serve under the captain?” she asked at length.

“He is one of the great sea captains of the Napoleonic Wars, Miss Edwards. Straight as a die, always able to get the job done. We took a good many prize ships.”

“You are great friends?”

“Yes, I am proud to say we are. The best of friends. He has saved my life, and I his, on numerous occasions.”

This is not good news. The captain owes far more to his friend than he does to me. Deal may tell of our escapade. A laugh between friends. But I would be completely ruined.

Was that not what she wanted? To be free of society? If only it were that simple. She had no independent means until she was of age. She did not even know if the duke would continue to house her with his precious children were she ruined. No. The only freedom on offer for Miss Fanny Edwards was a marriage to someone who would not object to her strange starts.

Moments after coming to this conclusion, Fanny felt as though she were beaten over the head with a stick. How could she be so slow-witted? Was not the Marquis of Deal such a man? He had even been a willing participant in her latest start. But, according to Westringham, he was not a marrying man.

Fanny’s heart speeded up at the thought of a challenge. Why had she not thought of it earlier? Jealousy would be an excellent tool, and here, holding her in his arms, was the means.

When the dance was over, she fanned herself vigorously. “It is dreadfully close in here. Shall we step out onto the terrace for a moment?”

Westringham’s brown eyes lit up at the suggestion, making him appear almost handsome. She had not been exaggerating when she told him that he would be welcome in the greenrooms of London. But she sensed that if he was taken in by this act she was performing, he would wish for a conventional wife.

Once they were on the terrace, she led him to talk about his youth before he took to sea. As he talked, she looked over his shoulder every few minutes, expecting Deal to appear.

However, it was Warmsby who sought them out, not the marquis.

“You are causing talk, Miss Edwards,” he said, his eyes hard and commanding. “It is time for you to return to the ballroom.” He offered his arm.

Her escort straightened his spine. “You must forgive me, Miss Edwards. I had no intention of exposing you to censure.” Taking her hand, he drew it through his arm and turned to reenter the ballroom.

Warmsby walked on her other side. “It is the supper dance. Are you engaged?”

“I am,” she said. Without elaborating, she thanked Westringham, ignored Warmsby, and glided into the crowd. Before she realized it, Deal was at her side.

“A rematch?” he asked.

Taking his arm, she said, “If you so dare.”

* * *

When they had each won a game of piquet apiece, the marquis asked, “Rosalind, what are you about with Warmsby? He seems to believe he has some rights where you are concerned.”

Fanny wrinkled her nose. “I cannot imagine why he would think that.”

“Having observed you dancing, I would say that your blinding smiles and simpers gave him cause.”

“Are you reverting to Old Sobersides again? You are so much more amusing when you treat me as the woman I am, and not the child you knew.”

“Do you find Warmsby amusing?”

“Not very. In fact, I do not know him well.”

“But that does not stop you from encouraging him.”

“Please, stop ringing a peal over me. I suspect you of trying to make me muddle-headed so I will lose this game.” Looking up from her cards, she saw a terrific frown on the marquis’s face. “You are not my nursemaid, you know.”

“You do not need a nursemaid, you need a terrific thrashing. Are you angling for Westringham, as well?”

“At least he treats me with the respect due a lady.”

“You are not a lady. You are a minx. Someday, someone is going to teach you a badly needed lesson.”

“I suppose you think it should be you?”

“I might be the only one not to be blinded by your playacting. Did I not rumble your Ganymede the first time we met?”

This time when she looked up, he gave her a grudging smile.

The sight warmed her, but she continued her raillery. “I suppose you think you know me through and through,” she said.

“I know enough to know when you are insincere. I don’t care a fig for Warmsby, but Westringham is my friend. In addition to that, I would think you would want to be careful to avoid him. He knows you as my lightskirt.”

“Then perhaps it is your company I should avoid when he is about.”

“The devil!” Deal threw down his hand. “I forfeit to you, Baggage. I cannot concentrate on piquet at this moment.” He sat glaring at her.

Good. Now maybe he will stop picking me apart. I dare not flirt with him. He sees right through me. How could I ever have considered marrying this man for even a moment? I would have no secrets, no privacy, nowhere to disappear to when times were bad.

Moments later, Warmsby found his way into the card room and spotted her. Coming over to her table, he inquired, “What is it you play? Perhaps you will allow me to join you?”

“Sorry,” Deal said roughly, gathering the cards and shuffling. “Piquet. And we have yet to play the deciding hand.”

Warmsby scowled, walking away with bad grace. Fanny allowed herself a tiny smile.

“You are bored with piquet, remember? Let us have an adventure.”

The marquis still shuffled the cards. “Have you something in mind?”

“Are there any men o’ war docked in the Thames estuary? I should love you to show me over one so I can imagine you in command.”

“No. To the best of my knowledge, those that are not at sea are docked in Plymouth or Portsmouth, undergoing repairs.”

“Is there no way I can see one?”

“Not tonight.”

“Then would you take me to a gambling hell?”

“You would require your veil. I may be uninformed about a lot of things, but I know that gambling hells are not on the list of places proper young ladies may visit.”

She sighed. “There is only one thing for it, then.”