The Dark Earl (12 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: The Dark Earl
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“
Harry
suits you,” he said grudgingly, “though it’s not very ladylike.”
“‘What’s in a name?’” she quoted merrily. “‘That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.’”
“Juliet.”
“Romeo!”
“Would you like me to reject my family name?” he asked solemnly.
“Deny your father and be newly baptized as my
lover
?”
“That is most provocative—of course, that’s precisely why you said it.” Pewter eyes met green. “Try to behave yourself, Harry.”
“Oh, if you insist . . . I shall try my utmost.”
“Before anyone else asks, may I be your supper partner?”
She leaned into him and smiled. “I would have turned anyone else down.”
When they danced, she noticed that he held her at a respectable distance. Though she guessed he would prefer to hold her close, Thomas observed all the conventions.
Myriad adjectives describing his behavior danced through her head in time to the music.
You are ever respectable, responsible, principled, honorable, upright, moral, strict, straitlaced, and far too rigid. But I wonder if you are totally incorruptible? I shall have great fun finding out.
When the dance ended, D’Arcy was waiting for her. Though the two males greeted each other warmly, Thomas glanced into her eyes before he relinquished her to his friend.
As the music began, D’Arcy’s smile reached his blue eyes. “I received your mother’s invitation to dinner next week. Thank you for reminding her.”
Harry had forgotten about it. She held her breath.
Please don’t let it be Thursday.
“Mother usually reserves Wednesday for dinner guests. I hope that isn’t inconvenient?”
“Not at all. Dinner with you would take precedence over any other invitation.”
The adjectives that describe D’Arcy are opposite those for Thomas: affable, pleasant, friendly, sociable, jovial, extremely easygoing, and filthy rich.
“May I escort you to the supper room later?”
“I’m sorry, D’Arcy. Thomas already asked me.”
For an instant his laughing blue eyes turned dark. Then he smiled. “That’s what I get for being late to the ball.”
“Why don’t you ask Trixy?”
He nodded happily. “I shall.”
Harry danced next with her father, then the Duke of Buccleuch, the Earl of Winterton, and young Henry Edgcumbe. Between dances she stopped to chat with her mother and Rachel. “Why don’t you invite James Butler to dinner next Wednesday?”
Rachel blushed prettily. “A delightful idea,” her sister said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.” She glanced at Harry with speculation, but kept silent.
Harriet danced a second time with Will Montagu and when the music stopped, they found themselves next to their mothers, who were exchanging pleasantries about court.
Lady Charlotte looked upon Lady Lu’s daughter with approving eyes. “It goes without saying that the lady who marries my son will be invited to become Mistress of the Robes to Our Gracious Majesty.”
The look of alarm was visible on Harry’s face. Without sounding facetious, the Duchess of Abercorn said smoothly, “A lofty aspiration for any young lady.”
 
 
No ball at Montagu House was complete without a Scottish reel. Since Will had promised to partner her sister Jane, Harry took D’Arcy for her partner. They’d danced strathspeys before. Whenever Victoria gave a musical evening, she delighted in Scottish dancing. The ladies always ended up laughing because crinolines were not best suited to Highland Flings.
“D’Arcy, you should host a Scottish dance, where all the men must wear kilts.”
“And what about the ladies?” he teased.
“I’ll wear a kilt if you will. My great-grandparents were the Duke and Duchess of Gordon.” She raised her eyebrows. “A scandalous couple, by the way.”
“I got some of that newfangled photographic equipment on display at the Crystal Palace. They take images of people, called photographs, that are amazingly lifelike.”
“Then I shall take a picture of you wearing a kilt—knobby knees and all!”
“That isn’t what I had in mind, and well you know it, Harry,” D’Arcy chided.
“Shame on you. A lady’s limbs must be covered at all times. Our bodies are temples and not to be used for physical exertion, or to be put on display to please gentlemen.”
“Pull my other leg, Harry. It’s got bells on it.”
When Thomas arrived to escort her to supper, he found the pair rollicking in laughter.
She linked her arm through his. “I was trying my utmost to behave myself.”
He gave her a grave look. “You are deceiving yourself.”
She bent close and whispered, “Yes. I do it all the time.”
As the guests were migrating to the supper room, Thomas held her back, and then led her out onto one of Montagu House’s balconies. “Fresh air will banish your giddiness.”
Trixy saw the pair leave, and caught up with D’Arcy while she had the chance.
Harry bent far out over the balcony above a garden. Thomas didn’t try to stop her, but drew close. When she straightened, he enfolded her in his embrace and his mouth took possession of hers. Her arms slid about his neck and clung for long minutes.
Harry withdrew her lips. “You seem to be in a hurry.”
“I have to be. You are surrounded by earls and future dukes who are eager to steal the marriage prize from me.”
“They’ll first have to surmount the obstacle of my father.”
“I’ve already asked him if I may pay court to you, and he has no objections.”
“Hell and Furies! You
are
in a hurry. I believe I can smell jasmine and honeysuckle. When is this marriage to take place?”
“He told me it was for you to decide if you want me for a suitor. And though it was totally unnecessary, he informed me that you had a mind of your own.”
“I rather like being wooed. I believe it would be prudent to wait until the end of my Season before I decide.”
“You don’t know how to be prudent. It isn’t in your nature to be prudent. You are impulsive and reckless, and need a firm hand to protect you from yourself.”
“And you are offering your firm hand? What makes you feel so cocky? Keeping your hand in your pocket all day?” she taunted outrageously.
He ignored her vulgar words. “I’m not offering for you yet. A decent amount of time should be given to escorting you about. Then, if you are amenable and your family reconciles to the idea, we will proceed to negotiating the marriage contract.”
Harriet suddenly went still. “You are serious.”
“Always.”
“We’d make a very odd couple. One serious, one frivolous; one
strait
laced, the other indecorous; one strict and stern, the other disobedient.”
“Opposites are said to attract.”
Harry shook her head thoughtfully. “The attraction is the
challenge
we symbolize to each other.”
You want to tame me . . . and I want to make you wild.
“Will you come to the Crystal Palace with me on Friday? I know there are many exhibits we would both enjoy.”
“Such a respectable assignation,” she teased. “Surrounded by crowds there is little chance of indiscretion.”
“If I promise to do something indiscreet, will you come?”
“Since I’m so impulsive and reckless, how can I resist? I’d like to go by train. Let’s meet at the station at ten.”
Chapter Six
 
“H
ello, D’Arcy. Whatever have you brought?” Harry asked. The two dinner guests had arrived at Hampden House within minutes of each other.
“This is the photographic equipment I was telling you about.” He saw Rachel and Lord Butler. “Hello, Captain. After dinner, I shall take a photograph of you and Lady Rachel. The images are absolutely lifelike.”
The talk prior to dinner was all about the Crystal Palace and the amazing inventions on display there.
“Abercorn has spoken of little else for the past two years,” the duchess declared. “Prince Albert decides what should be on display, and Abercorn has to do the donkey work to get it done. I’m weary of the subject.”
At dinner, D’Arcy was seated between Harriet and Beatrix. Facing them were Lady Rachel and Lord Butler. Her brother, James, partnered Jane.
The duchess skillfully turned the conversation to the Earl of Durham’s property. “Harry has a fascination for stately historic houses. Do tell us about your castle, D’Arcy.”
“Lambton was built on the same site as a castle from a century earlier. It was originally erected as a fortress against the wild inhabitants of the north, I warrant. It’s built on a hill overlooking the lovely river and the wooded Wear Valley, where I hold the annual pheasant shoot. Lambton is fashioned after a Norman castle with a vast, high-ceilinged great hall.”
“What a marvelous chamber for entertaining,” the duchess declared. “The Earl of Durham will be expected to marry a lady who will be a worthy chatelaine, and a charming hostess for the numerous guests you will entertain at the castle.”
D’Arcy smiled at Harry before he answered her mother. “Absolutely. I must confess that I have ambitions to one day become the lord lieutenant of County Durham.”
Trixy’s heart was in her eyes as she hung on to his every word.
“That’s marvelous, D’Arcy,” Harry said. “Did you know that Father was the lord lieutenant of County Donegal in Ireland?”
“Yes, my ambitions were stirred by Abercorn. Perhaps sometime in the future we can discuss the duties and qualifications required in that post.”
“The main qualification for lord lieutenant is money to burn,” Lady Lu said dryly.
Harry patted D’Arcy’s hand. “Then Durham has found its man.”
Trixy sighed, imagining herself a countess.
The duchess turned her attention to Lord Butler. “James, do tell us about Kilkenny Castle and your famous collection of Ormonde paintings.”
“Well, not to fault Lambton, but Kilkenny is an
authentic
Norman castle, built in the thirteenth century to defend the medieval town of Kilkenny.”
It was Rachel’s turn to listen transfixed.
“The castle has round towers at its four corners and an interior courtyard. The Butlers of Ormonde have lived there for five hundred years. The collection of paintings is vast in number.”
“Ireland holds a very special place in my heart. Rachel, when the Season is over, you must come and stay with us at Barons Court,” the duchess invited.
“Oh, thank you! I would love it above all things.” Her glance met Lord Butler’s before her lashes swept down to conceal the hope in her eyes.
“You must all come and visit us at Kilkenny when you return to Ireland.”
“Why, thank you, James. We will take you up on your generous invitation.” The Duchess of Abercorn again turned her attention on D’Arcy Lambton. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could take some photographs of your castle and the places around Durham? I’m sure Harriet would be fascinated to see them.”
“Oh, D’Arcy, you must. I’ve seen a painting of your castle, but a photograph would be an exact reproduction.”
“Yes, I will certainly take photographs. Of course, I won’t be visiting Durham until the Season is over.” His generous mouth widened into a smile he bestowed on Harry.
He means until my Season is over. He makes me feel special—I can do no wrong in his eyes. There is absolutely no denying D’Arcy’s attraction.
Harry’s thoughts strayed to Thomas Anson and she smiled inwardly.
I can do no right in his eyes.
After dinner, D’Arcy began to set up his photographic equipment in the drawing room. Harry’s brother, intrigued by the paraphernalia, insisted on helping. Lady Rachel was placed in a chair, with Lord Butler standing behind her.
D’Arcy cautioned, “Don’t be alarmed. I have to create a flash of light so your image can be captured.” He took a small bag and sprinkled some black powder onto a handheld device. “When I say
ready
, I want you both to smile and hold absolutely still.”
“What is this black stuff?” young James asked.
“Gunpowder,” D’Arcy murmured quietly.
“Jolly good! Let me hold it for you.” James’s eyes sparkled at the thought of danger.
When D’Arcy was ready to pull the cord attached to the box he held, he said, “Ready,” and nodded to his assistant.
James set a lit taper to the gunpowder, and the flash and puff of smoke made Rachel’s eyes widen to the size of saucers.
“Oh dear, I’m going to look a fright!”
Standing behind her, Captain Butler dropped a kiss on top of her head. “That would be impossible, my dear.”

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