Second Season (6 page)

His grace’s lips twitched, but Sir Eustace protested, “Oh, ’tis no trouble at all, ma’am—beg you’ll allow me. No need to disarrange Miss Emily, she’s most securely fixed, a mere featherweight.”

“But I think we must not incommode you farther, sir. John!” commandingly.

“Yes, Miss Stanwood,” but when the groom reached up for Emily, she shuddered and cowered, and was understood to wail, “No, please ... oh, Sharlie, I can’t!”

Sir Eustace looked down—Emily looked up pleadingly. “Sure, and ye needn’t, then,” he murmured softly, kicking his horse into a turn to pace sedately .toward the railings, leaving the others to follow.

By now a growing group of pleasurably excited people were swarming forward to see the ’orrid accident. Charlotte bit her lips with a stormy glance for the Duke, but she had no choice but to turn Moonshine to accompany Sir Eustace. John-groom silently brought up the rear, leading Firefly. Looking neither to right nor left, Charlotte was aware of his grace’s black stallion politely pacing alongside. She was further aware of his suppressed amusement, although what he found laughable escaped her.

“Ow, miss, is the young lady dead, then? Coo, it does make me come over queer-like!” an onlooker sighed avidly. “Wot ’appened? I missed it.”

“What a pity,” said Sharlie coldly, continuing on her way while the questioner drew back protesting aggrievedly, “I was only
arskin
’.”

“And you have had an answer,” his grace’s voice said courteously. “I would suggest you retire, madam. The horses are fidgety. We should not like a
real
accident, should we?”

“Oh, h’l should think not! Come away, Maggie, do! H’l don’t like the look of them beasts—great murderin’ animules, if you arsk me.”

Charlotte firmed her lips again, but a deep chuckle from the duke betrayed her into a silent quiver of laughter. “Ah, that’s better, Miss Stanwood,” he approved. “A few smiles will convince the populace there is nothing worthy of gossip. Now, where is the young idiot heading? Gayle,” he raised his voice irritably, “you’ll not get out that way.” His grace spurred forward, closely followed by Charlotte. She could see his expression change, nor—when she drew up beside the Captain—could she wonder, for Emily was entirely restored.
Most
reprehensibly, she was smiling, blushing faintly, chatting with shy animation in the arms of a complete stranger!

“We’ll not trouble you farther, Sir Eustace. I’ll relieve you,” said the duke impersonally. “Come, Miss Emily.”

“Oh, I say,” the Captain began, but Imbrie merely raised his eyebrows and repeated, “
Come,
Miss Emily.” Emily had no choice. His grace reinforced words with action, and calmly picked her from Sir Eustace’s lap in one smooth motion. “Your servant, sir,” and the duke trotted off without a backward glance, leaving the Captain almost open-mouthed. While Charlotte applauded his grace’s quick thinking to protect Emily’s reputation, it was more of a set-down than was deserved. Sir Eustace had saved Emily, after all. “Allow me to thank you once more, sir,” she said cordially. “I am persuaded my father, Lord Stanwood, will wish to do so in person when he arrives this evening.”

The Captain’s face cleared magically. “Faith, and I’m glad ye think so, Miss Stanwood. I’ll make bold to step around tomorrow to inquire for Miss Emily,” he grinned mischievously, “with my credentials. I fancy my aunt, Mrs. Ixton, has the pleasure of Lady Stanwood’s acquaintance—or perhaps ’tis her husband knows your father—but I’ll find someone for a proper presentation, never doubt it. I’m not minded to lose my chance for such riding company as yourself, Miss Stanwood.”

Sharlie could feel herself coloring beneath his admiring blue eyes, but the mention of Mrs. Ixton had relieved her mind. She was indeed known to Lady Stanwood, Charlotte distinctly recalled meeting her last year. “I feel sure your ingenuity will not be gravely tested, sir,” she murmured demurely. “Bid you good day, Captain.”

Cantering swiftly across the sward, she came up to the others as they reached the railings, to find the duke efficiently transferring Emily to John-groom, then dismounting to assist her into Lady Inverclyde’s carriage. “Eh, what’s all this? What’s amiss?” the old lady demanded. “Come up, come up, child. No, the dog will
not
bite you, Emily. Push him out of the way—well,
sit
on him, then. He’ll move fast enough, I warrant you—get
down,
Cupidon! Now, what’s happened? Was she thrown?”

“No—merely, her horse bolted, but she was rescued by another rider.”

“Captain Sir Eustace Gayle, who is nephew to Mrs. Ixton,” Charlotte inserted blandly. “Most gracious of your ladyship to take up my sister. I pray it does not too greatly inconvenience you.”

“No, no,” Lady Inverclyde said absently. “Ixton? One of the Stidhams, or was she a Guthrie? Tchk, there’s no keeping up with the Irish, but I fancy I know the woman.”

“Very possibly, ma’am—she is known to mama and I have met her, too.”

“Ah? That’s all right then.” She eyed Emily severely, “Not goin’ to faint, are you? Can’t abide fainting misses! Look all right to me, color’s normal ... straighten your bonnet, Emily, and sit
up.
We’ll take another turn, let ’em see you’re all right,” poking the coachman with her cane. “Go on, Thompson—around again, and don’t swear at Lady Parks’ coachman this time. Send your groom home, Sharlie, and finish your ride. Imbrie can escort you. On a horse, he’s safe enough!” Cackling gleefully, Lady Inverclyde drove away.

Charlotte looked after the carriage, disconcerted. On the one hand she yearned to make a full circuit; on the other, she was embarrassed to be thrust upon the duke so high-handedly. “Take Firefly back to the stable, John, and return for me,” she decided. “I’ll keep beside her ladyship’s carriage. You’ll probably find us on the far side of the sward.”

“Miss Stanwood, I beg you will not believe that wicked old woman,” his grace pleaded piteously. “I am entirely safe even when
not
on a horse. You have no need of a groom, particularly,” with an appraising glance at John, “when I am the bigger by a stone. Send the man back to the stable.”

From the corner of her eye, Sharlie could see the groom’s face purpling with suppressed guffaws. She knew her own face was pink, she felt ready to sink with embarrassment. “And I beg
you
will not feel obligated to disarrange your day for her ladyship’s whims,” she returned with spirit. “Your grace has already done more than enough in assisting my sister, I have no wish to incommode you farther. I am persuaded there can be no impropriety in my riding alone within view of her ladyship’s carriage.”

“Phoo, sad stuff,” the duke grimaced. “Two paces an hour?
Mondschein
will never be content with that,” ignoring Sharlie’s stricken face and averted eyes at the German name, “and I wonder you will think any day could be disarranged by encountering two lovely damsels in distress, Miss Stanwood. John—go back to the stable and stay there!”

A coin spun through the air, caught dextrously by the groom. “Yes, sir, your grace!” Hacking home across Park Lane, John rehearsed his report to the servants with gusto, ending with a Golden Boy to make himself scarce—a regular right ’un, the duke! “In course, I wouldn’t have left Miss Sharlie but for seein’ he was known to Lady Inverclyde and had her approval to escort our ladies.”

Meanwhile, Sharlie was silently trotting beside the duke, bereft of conversation and devastated by her inadvertent use of the despised
German
... although who could have dreamed Imbrie would understand?

“Are you still not wishing for the acquaintance, Miss Stanwood?”

“Oh, pray—I desire you will not refine too much upon my heedless words,” she said with an effort. “It is ever my disgrace to speak without thinking.”

“On the contrary, it is your greatest charm, Miss Stanwood,” he returned quickly. “I’d no intent to tease. I’d thought this a small pleasantry between us—one I enjoy, but forgive me if you find the jest outworn.”

“No, no,” she murmured distractedly, and cried “Oh, there they are!” spurring forward eagerly to come abreast of the carriage. Emily’s lovely face was blooming once more, Sharlie had no fear for her, but observing the duke’s attentive bow and bemused smile, she was suddenly struck by An Idea.

It occurred to Charlotte that the Duke of Imbrie was more catched by her pretty sister than she’d thought. Further, she suspected Emily was not indifferent. Her great blue eyes looked up admiringly, then lowered shyly. Her color came and went in delicate flushes tinging her cheeks, the while she prattled innocently in her fluting voice, assuring his grace she was none the worse, could not understand how Firefly came to behave so, “for you must know she is in general the gentlest thing in nature. Papa chose her particularly for her good disposition. I am not a very good equestrienne you see. With so many riders in the Row, I thought the pace must necessarily be held to an easy gait, but however, it did not answer, and I think I shall not attempt it again.”

“Oh, you could not be so heartless, Miss Emily. To deny your admirers the sight of you is unthinkable! The horse was frightened by unfamiliar surroundings and noise, but another day she will be accustomed, and your escort will be too numerous for a repetition.”

“Do you think so?” Emily asked doubtfully. “But on the whole, I find a carriage altogether more comfortable, plus being able to put my whole mind to conversation. Sharlie can manage to speak and handle the reins, you see.”

“Your sister is an accomplished horsewoman.”

“Oh, the horse does not live that would dare bolt with Sharlie!”

“Your grace must make allowance for a sister’s
partiality,” Sharlie said lightly, “and do you attend Lady Abercrombie’s musicale tonight, sir?”

“Why, I believe I had her card, but I had given it no thought. Musicales are not much in my taste, Miss Stanwood. I collect you mean to be present? Will Miss Emily feel able?”

“Oh, yes,” she nodded sunnily, “for I am to play the harp, you know.”

“Ah, the harp!” his grace exclaimed. “I
thought
that might be your instrument... and what do you contribute, Miss Stanwood?”

“The most welcome of all: respectful silence and generous applause,” Sharlie chuckled. “Must I confess? I have no talent whatever and cannot carry a tune in a coal scuttle. Emily has all the accomplishments of the family, Duke, for besides the harp, she has conquered the pianoforte and p9ssesses a singularly sweet true voice.”

Emily blushed and disclaimed loyally, “I wish you will not, Sharlie. You dance beautifully, far better than I.”

His grace laughed. “Why, it’s a very charming mutual admiration society! Miss Stanwood, there is what looks to be a fairly open stretch ahead—shall we try it?”

A gentle canter brought them to the exit, where they accompanied Lady Inverclyde’s carriage to Park Street. Imbrie swung from his saddle to hand Emily from her seat. Observing the gallantry with which he kissed her hand, Charlotte was more and more certain of his interest. She slid from Moonshine to the horse block with no more than a steadying hand from the groom and repeated her courtesies to Lady Inverclyde for bearing Emily home.

“Phoo, nonsense, Charlotte—enjoyed myself mightily, but don’t put your sister on a horse again. Girl’s got no bottom, and cow-handed into the bargain. Can’t have an Incomparable fallin’ off her mount in front of the
ton
.” The old lady poked her long-suffering coachman, “Go ON, Thompson—home. Imbrie, present my respects to Lady Abercrombie—ought to know better than to send
me
her card. I can’t abide musicales, and at my age, thank heaven, I needn’t do anything I don’t wish. WELL, Thompson, why are we dawdling?” He was moved to protest. “I was waiting until your ladyship finished.”

“I
am
finished, said all I want to say five minutes past. Go ON!”

Tossing his reins to the groom, the duke escorted the sisters up the steps to their door, where Beamish looked austerely into space. “His lordship has arrived, Miss Stanwood.”

“Papa!” Emily squeaked with pleasure, but minded her manners. “Oh, milord,” extending a tiny hand and curtseying, “thank you once more. Indeed it was kind in you to convey me home.”

Nothing could exceed the grace of Imbrie’s bow. “Your servant, Miss Emily. Pray present my compliments to your father.”

“Yes, indeed, but you will excuse me now.” Emily was gone, leaving him to bow over Charlotte’s hand. “Your servant, ma’am.”

She curtseyed demurely. “Give you good day, Duke,” but once into the hall, she ran lightly up the stairs to Lady Stanwood’s parlor where she found his lordship standing before the fire, and his wife behind the tea tray.

With one strong arm about Emily, Lord Stanwood beckoned to Charlotte. “Eh, there’s my little Diana! What’s this Emily’s telling us about a rescue in the Park and Imbrie taking care of all?” He hugged Sharlie with a hearty kiss. “Lud, ma’am,” to Lady Stanwood’s anxious protestations, “he’ll think nought about introductions! Been hunting at Blandford Park for three weeks, a bruising rider—showed us all the way! Told me he’d had a small dust-up with your carriage—apologized very handsomely, said he’d written you, had your answer, and there’s an end to it, Nelly. If you insist on formality, I’ll present him as soon as may be.”