The Maiden At Midnight (11 page)

‘Well that is hardly surprising. You are
very lovely, Alora.’

The girl flushed. ‘I don’t believe the
reason they wish to dance with me has anything to do with my looks.
I am an heiress and, as such, much sought after.’

‘Oh come now! Not all men are interested in
money.’

‘A surprising number are, however,’ Alora
said wryly.

‘I have met several delightful gentlemen
since coming to London,’ Isabella said mendaciously, ‘Mr. Lockhart
is a very fine dancer. Do you know him? Tall and distinguished. And
Lord Beechworth… such a nice young man. And… oh, what was his name?
Stornley? I believe he is an earl.’

Her eyes were fixed on Alora’s face as she
said this and she thought she saw a delicate tinge of color touch
the girl’s cheeks, which was entirely satisfactory. It seemed that
the girl was not indifferent to the man and that would make
Isabella’s job that much easier.

‘I have met the Earl of Stornley myself. I
thought him very pleasant but Aunt Elise did not care for him.’

‘My
aunt is inclined to think a girl is honor bound to care for an
earl. And she insists that one must positively dote on a duke!’
This elicited a small giggle. ‘Are you not in town with your
mother, Miss Piedmont?’’

‘Please, call me Alora. And no,
unfortunately Mama is an invalid and had to remain home. Aunt Elise
undertook my presentation.’

‘I am sorry. I am sure that your aunt is
very nice but I cannot imagine not having my mother around.’

‘I do miss Mama.’ There was
a note in Alora’s voice that made Isabella grimace inwardly. She
would not care to have the dour Elise chaperoning
her
.

‘Never mind,’ she said softly, touching
Alora’s hand. ‘You may come around and take tea with my mother. She
would like that. We have come up to London to find me a suitable
husband but I think she finds it all a little trying.’

Alora’s eyes widened a little. ‘A
husband?’

Isabella gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘Oh
dear! My runaway tongue again. I know we are not meant to speak of
such things, but honestly, what are all the Season’s debutantes
hoping for but a suitable match at the end of it? They do not call
it the marriage mart for nothing!’

This brought another smile. ‘I suppose not.
Although it does all make it seem rather…’

‘Contrived?’

‘Exactly!’

‘Unfortunately, a girl in my position must
make the best of her situation. You have been in London longer than
I. Perhaps you can point out some pleasant fellows that you
yourself are not interested in? It is always helpful to have
another female’s opinion.’

Alora appeared to be intrigued by this idea.
‘Really?’

‘Certainly. I am a firm believer in
enlisting the support of others when an important decision must be
made. A new dress, a hairstyle, a suitable husband…’

‘Miss Hathaway!’ The words were a gasp and a
giggle combined.

‘Isabella, please. And, as I sense you are a
girl of excellent taste so your opinion would be most welcome.’

While still slightly shocked by this
unconventional suggestion, Alora appeared equally flattered. ‘If
you think I could be of some use although,’ she hesitated, ‘perhaps
we might not mention it in front of Aunt Elise? She has a rather…
old fashioned outlook and I fear she would not understand that such
things are merely meant as fun.’

‘Be assured,’ Isabella said fervently, ‘that
I will not breath a word of this in front of your aunt.’

She left Alora soon after, well pleased with
her visit. Putting herself forward as being in need of a husband –
perfectly true, to be sure – brought the whole prospective groom
issue out into the open. If she were soliciting Alora’s opinion on
suitable men to marry, would the girl not do the same? It would
look far less peculiar if they were both on the hunt and it gave
Isabella the ideal opportunity to push the earl forward as the most
worthy tree in the veritable forest of men who were pursuing the
heiress. Stornley needed assistance and she was going to give it to
him.

And all she needed from him in return was a
similar favor.

Returning to Hertford Street, she hurriedly
changed out of her carriage dress in favor of her new blue brocade
with its Belgian lace trim, a suitable dress for receiving. She had
particularly chosen a three thirty appointment for at three
o’clock, her Mama invariably lay down for a rest for an hour or
two, while Aunt Geraldine could be relied upon to be playing cards
with her friends. Audrey had gone out with a girl she had known in
Wiltshire and Millie had gone along, keen to get out of the house.
Isabella would, of course, have a chaperone present in the form of
her maid but that was more than sufficient. As Audrey had been
sworn to secrecy about the previous days meeting with Mr.
Carstairs, Isabella intended to engage in a small amount of
dissembling with both her mother and her aunt when queried about
the call. Aunt Geraldine, in particular, would be thrilled to have
a man like the Earl of Stornley present his card in her hallway. It
would circulate in no time at all which would give Isabella the
kind of cache that any girl would be grateful for.

By the time three-thirty arrived, Isabella
was waiting patiently in the green drawing room armed with tea,
several types of cake, scones with apricot jam and clotted cream
and dainty cucumber sandwiches. It was a lot of food for two people
but Isabella knew that a young man was more likely to be amenable
if surrounded by good things to eat. Stornley must be no more than
four and twenty, if he was that and like all young men, he enjoyed
food. With that in mind, she had provided a tantalizing feast and a
benevolent expression, arranging herself decorously in
anticipation. It was a calm, soothing atmosphere. She had had
experience with young men like the earl – in the form of her
brother’s friends – and she knew they were inclined to bolt like a
restive horse if spooked.

She was ready for her presentation. The plan
she had in mind was perfectly sound and beneficial to both of them.
He just needed to see that. The problem with men was that they
became a little panic stricken at the mention of marriage, even one
they were actively seeking. Isabella was determined to present a
serene face, no matter what.

The Earl of Stornley came a little after the
appointed time but she was happy to forgive him for his tardiness.
As soon as Gunter, Aunt Geraldine’s butler, announced her guest,
she picked up the teapot and poured. His lordship took several
steps into the room, then halted uncertainly, looking around him
with an uneasy expression. The sight of Isabella calmly pouring
tea, while her maid darned a shirt by the window was hardly nerve
wracking, however. Isabella replaced the teapot and rose to her
feet to curtsey and he bowed in return.

‘Miss Hathaway.’

‘My lord, how very kind of you to call round
to see me,’ she resumed her seat, inclining her head towards the
chair opposite. Stornley came forward and took a seat. ‘Tea?’

‘Please.’

‘Sugar? I would guess that you like several
teaspoons?’

‘I do, actually. How did you know that?’

‘All young men, in my acquaintance, like to
sully India Black with an absurd amount of sugar. Cake? I believe
we have some rather nice ginger fluff, but there is also seed and
apple.’ She was already cutting him a slice, knowing full well that
he would accept any food that was proffered automatically.

He accepted both the cup and the plate with
a slightly bemused expression. Clearly, he had no idea why she had
wanted to see him but there was nothing too dreadful about tea and
cake. He took a large bite and sighed. ‘I say! This is jolly
good.’

‘I know. I keep asking my aunt’s cook to
make it for my sister and I find it quite delicious.’

Isabella took her own cup
and saucer in hand and settled back, waiting for his lordship to
finish the first slice. It would be too much to ask him to make
conversation
and
chew but she was content to wait. When he was done, he set his
plate down and regarded her doubtfully.

‘You’re looking very well, Miss
Hathaway.’

‘Thank you. I am feeling very well.’

‘You’re quite recovered
from… ah… you know? That… that
thing
the other night? Dreadful mix
up. Feel very bad about it.’

‘Quite recovered. I can
assure you, there was no lasting damage done.’ She didn’t want to
let him off the hook
too
lightly. Things would go far more easily if he
were still wracked by guilt.

Stornley looked at her anxiously. ‘Harry
seems to think that you’re up to no good,’ he confessed.

Isabella arched an eyebrow. ‘Mr. Carstairs
is far too eager to offer an opinion about matters that do not
concern him. Not that I am ungrateful for the help he rendered the
other night, but I cannot say I like a managing man.’

‘Oh he’s not that bad. A little up in the
boughs, sometimes but he’s pretty much bang up to the mark in the
general course of things. Pulled my toes out of the fire on more
than one occasion, let me tell you.’

She smiled. ‘You often fall into scrapes, I
think you were saying?’

‘Often,’ he agreed gloomily, ‘seems I can’t
help myself. If there’s a pothole in the road, I’ll stick my boot
in it.’

‘Life can be very hard to negotiate on your
own. I think you need a wife, my lord. Somebody who will settled
you down, who you can talk to and perhaps, persuade you away from
your continuing follies.’

‘Well what the deuce do you
think the other night was all about?’ Stornley demanded
indignantly. ‘I thought I was
getting
a wife.’

‘I think we discussed your methods, did we
not?’

‘You and Harry both discussed them. I still
think there was merit in my approach. I’d be married by now if I
hadn’t mucked things up and everything would have come out as it
should.’

‘You think abduction would have garnered you
a willing wife and a happy marriage. Really. You still think that
was a sensible decision?’

He sighed. ‘You don’t understand. Hopefuls
buzz around Miss Piedmont like flies around a jam sandwich. D’you
know that Peregrine Horsley is after her? Horsley! He’s prettier
than most females and smells like an Italian bordello to boot. God
knows what his man dresses his hair with but it reeks. If you’ll
excuse my saying so,’ he added, rather hurriedly. ‘Forgive me, Miss
Hathaway. My wretched manners!’

Isabella wondered what he was apologizing
for; using the word bordello or suggesting that Mr. Horsley was not
quite the thing. Yes, she thought with some amusement, the Earl of
Stornley shared her inclination towards thoughtless honesty in
full. His tongue was even more unguarded than her own.

‘Do you know who I saw not an hour ago?’

His lordship looked at her doubtfully, no
doubt wondering if this was some kind of new game he was supposed
to know about. ‘Am I meant to guess?’

‘There is no need for I am happy to tell
you. Miss Piedmont. I paid a call.’

Stornley sat up a little straighter in his
chair at this. ‘You paid a call on Miss Piedmont?’

‘She is a most delightful girl.’

‘She is, isn’t she?’ he agreed eagerly.
‘Such an easygoing manner and a pleasing style of address. She’s
one of the few females that do not make a fellow feel like a fool
if he says the wrong thing. And her face? Did you ever see a face
that was so pleasing, Miss Hathaway?’

‘No, I don’t believe I have.’ If Isabella
had doubted the sincerity of the earl’s feelings for Alora
Piedmont, she no longer did so. She had not realized that he was so
smitten and yet it was plain to see. She wondered of Alora Piedmont
comprehended how much the man cared for her.

The Earl of Stornley was in love. It went a
long way towards explaining his foolish behavior with the failed
kidnapping. Young men who fell in love could not be expected to act
sensibly.

‘Did she… happen to mention me?’

‘She did say that she thought you were very
nice.’

Stornley flushed. ‘Did she really?’

‘Assuredly. But if I may go
back for a moment; do you want to know
why
I went and paid a visit to Miss
Piedmont?’

This brought him up short. He hesitated.
‘There was a particular motive?’

‘There certainly was. It occurred to me
yesterday that we are both, more or less, in the same situation.
You are in want of a wife – a particular one, in this instance –
whereas I am in need of a husband. I am not so particular but there
are certainly some stipulations.’

‘You are in need of a husband?’

‘All girls are in need of a husband, my
lord. It is the way of things. I just happen to need a wealthy
one.’

‘I see. May I ask why?

‘The usual reasons,’ Isabella waved an airy
hand, ‘we Hathaway’s are in Queer Street and I am in need of a
husband to – ah – replenish the family coffers.’

The earl looked sympathetic. ‘I understand
your situation perfectly. Money is a jolly nuisance.’

‘You
do not have money? But you’re an earl.’ It was something she
had not been able to fully comprehend. He dressed impeccably, had
an estate in Buckinghamshire and a townhouse in Grosvenor Square,
or so said Aunt Geraldine and she was a walking lexicon of every
eligible man in London. Neither the estate, nor the title was
impoverished so why, exactly, did Stornley require
money?

‘I will get my inheritance a year and a day
after I marry,’ Stornley explained glumly. ‘A foolish whim of my
father’s, but until then it is in the hands of my damned trustees.
Excuse my language again, Miss Hathaway. The thing is, I could
probably get my hands on some ready the moment I tie the knot – I’d
be a man with prospects, do you see and I would not have to broach
Miss Piedmont’s funds - but I don’t quite know how to go about
securing her affections.’ He looked at her appealingly. ‘You do
know what I mean, do you not?’