The Maiden At Midnight (25 page)

He nodded, dazzled by the
sight of those large blue eyes, so close to his own. ‘Alora… I have
something to say to you that
must
be said. Today. Now.’

‘Please do. Say whatever you wish. I am
listening.’

‘It’s about money.’

Alora blinked, clearly taken aback. Whatever
she had been anticipating, it was not this. ‘Money?’ she repeated
uncertainly.

‘Money,’ Joss repeated firmly, doing his
best to remain focused; a difficult thing when the woman he loved
was seated beside him. ‘You may think I’m a fortune hunter – I
suppose in a way I am, technically – but I wish to tell you that I
am not in the least bit interested in your money. I have plenty of
my own. Or at least I will, when I marry. Not immediately, you
understand, because my father was quite demented and put the most
absurd -’

He broke off when Alora laid pale, cool
fingers against his lips. She looked at him steadily for a long
moment, then sighed. ‘I might have known you would make this
difficult. My lord, I know about your financial situation. I doubt
there is anybody in London who does not.’

‘You do?’ he said, speaking around her
fingers.

‘Of course.’

He took her hand gently in his own and held
on to it, looking at her earnestly. ‘I love you Alora. I don’t know
if you believe me but it is the truth. I am in possession of a
fortune I cannot touch but one day, I will be able to support you
in the manner you are accustomed to.’

‘This is not, exactly, the declaration I was
after but I presume you are asking me to marry you?’ The words were
laced with laughter.

Joss flushed and slid off the couch, hitting
the floor on bended knee. ‘It wasn’t a proposal,’ he confessed,
‘but it is now. Alora Piedmont, will you do the very great honor of
becoming my wife?’

Five minutes later, Miss Fortnum entered the
blue drawing room, having been apprised by her maid (who had heard
it from her butler) that her niece was with a Guest. A Male Guest.
Alone. Such scandalous tidings brought an immediate result and she
rose from her bed and thrust her feet into her slippers, determined
to put a stop to whatever was going on as swiftly as possible.

A shocking sight met her eyes. Alora was
sitting against the Earl of Stornley, his arm wrapped firmly around
her, her fair head tucked comfortably beneath his chin. When he
would have removed his arm, in deference to the new arrival, Alora
caught hold of his hand, holding him still.

‘Alora! What is the
meaning
of this?’ she
almost hiccupped the words out, so great was her fury.

Stornley looked nervous but Alora did not.
She smiled at her aunt as if nothing in the world were amiss. ‘Aunt
Elise. Just the person I wanted to see. We have some wonderful
news. His lordship has done me the very great honor of proposing.
And I have said yes.’

‘You have said…
what
?’

‘Yes.’ Alora repeated softly.

‘This is ridiculous. You are not marrying
that man. I have had three perfectly good offers for you in the
past two days and you will accept one of them. Do you understand
me? This man is a Fortune Hunter!’

Alora did not move. ‘Oh, I
know
that
.’

‘Well if you know that why would you even
consider marrying him?’

‘Because I love him. And he loves me.’ Alora
gave the earl such a look of glowing happiness that Elise Fortnum
was almost beside herself.

‘But you
can’t
,’ she almost
wailed.

‘I can and I will,’ Alora returned in a
voice that was edged with steel. ‘I would like you to wish me
happy, Aunt Elise. But if you feel you cannot, then I am sorry to
say that you will not be able to come to the wedding. Which,’ she
added softly, ‘will be in six weeks time.’

‘Will it?’ Joss sounded almost wondering, as
if he had quite lost sight of his role in things.

‘It will. If it is all right with you?’

‘Perfectly all right.’

And Miss Fortnum, looking from one to the
other, knew that she had lost the battle even before the first shot
had been fired.

Chapter Eleven

Isabella learned of the earl’s happy news
several hours after the event when he, still dizzy with delight,
called upon her briefly.

‘I am so
happy
. Do you know, I
went to Brook Street, intending to explain my situation but she
already knew? And she didn’t care. And Isabella,’ his voice
dropped, taking on a note of awe, ‘her aunt came in and forbade the
marriage and Alora just… oh, Isabella she was magnificent! We’re
getting married in six weeks time. I’m off to organize posting the
banns right now.’

A small hiccup of laughter formed inside
Isabella. That sweet, biddable Alora should have a will of iron...
For a man that seemed to have very little will at all, this was the
perfect match and Isabella was sure a glowing future lay ahead for
them both.

‘I am so happy for you Joss. For you both.
Never have a couple been so suited.’

‘And what of you? I heard from Huntingdon
last night that he is very taken with you,’ Joss grinned, ‘so I
prompted the fellow on a little, told him that he’d better put his
best foot forward as he wasn’t the only one after you. He’s coming
to the Martingale dance tonight so we will see you both there.’

‘Of course.’ The words were a little hollow.
Mention of James Huntingdon brought Isabella’s own situation
rushing back and a fresh wave of misery – laced with anger – hit
her. ‘Joss, your friend Mr. Carstairs -’

Joss frowned. ‘Don’t know what’s gotten into
him lately. He’s acting like a bear with a sore head. Refuses to go
to anything. It’s most peculiar.’

‘Is it?’ Isabella resisted the urge to ask
for opinions as to the reason this might be. She was glad that the
man responsible for her own restless behavior was unhappy as well.
It served him right. ‘Never mind that. You have known him for some
years. May I ask… how is he situated?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, is there any
reason
he
is not
looking to wed?’

‘Harry?’ Joss gave a snort of amusement.
‘Lord, I’d give a monkey to see that. Never seen a man so fixated
on staying free of the leg shackles.’

‘And may I ask why? Has he had an
unfortunate experience with love in the past?’

This sent his lordship off into a fit of
laughter. Isabella sat patiently, waiting for it to pass.

‘H-harry… suffering from the cruel barbs of
love? Marvelous!’

‘So no, then? He has never had his heart
broken?’

‘Well, he keeps his heart pretty close, does
Harry. Excellent fellow and the best of friends but I’ve never seen
him get flowery about a female. Too canny for that. Why do you
ask?’

‘It does not matter.’ It
did matter, but she had no intention of telling Joss so.
She
might wonder why
Harry Carstairs did not feel inclined to join her list of suitors
but she did not want anybody else to. Why, they would think that
she had lost her heart to the man and that was… becoming
increasingly likely, it seemed.

She thought of him
constantly, she thought of him
inappropriately
, daydreams where she
was in his arms again and he was kissing her with the same reckless
passion that he had shown at that eventful card party. And she did
not want just a kiss. She could recall, all too clearly, how her
body had been on fire at his touch. What she really wanted was to
have him continue on with what he had started, stripping the
clothes from her body and doing to her what gentlemen did to ladies
after marriage – or before, if ones reputation was no impediment.
What he probably did to that glorious creature that had been on his
arm today. The idea made her feel a little ill.

I will recover from
this
, she thought wearily.
It is just another bump in a road already filled
with holes. James Huntingdon will offer for me and I will accept
and I will be happy… One day.

She was going to the Martingale dance but
she was to go without her family as Audrey had developed a sniffle
and Mama had decided that she would not leave her. Isabella had
wanted to cry off too but Aunt Geraldine had insisted she go.

‘For I have heard Mr.
Huntingdon is going to be there and he is particularly looking
forward to seeing
you
, my dear.’

This was hardly the incentive it should have
been but Isabella went to prepare for the evening anyway. Tonight
she was in a delightful new dress of rose pink sarcenet with a
satin slip of a deeper hue beneath. Pearl rosettes decorated the
neckline and edge of the sleeves. Her hair had been allowed to fall
loose around her shoulders in gleaming golden ringlets, caught back
on one side with an elegant diamond clip. A modest diamond necklace
gleamed against her creamy skin, with a matching bracelet around
her satin-gloved wrist.

Her mother stepped back and observed the
finished article fondly. ‘You look lovely.’

Isabella smiled but her
heart was not in it. Harry Carstairs would undoubtedly not be there
again tonight and what was the point of looking lovely if she could
not tempt him? She had been going through various scenarios since
returning from the park, imagining what would happen if he
was
there. She would
flirt with him. She would beguile him. And then she would reject
him, hopefully cutting him to the quick. If ever a man deserved to
be cut to the quick, it was Harry Carstairs. Of course, she knew
that any scenario was unlikely, as he refused to cooperate and put
in an appearance. She also suspected – although she did not like to
admit to this – that rejecting him might be a little optimistic
when so many of her other daydreams centered around doing the
exactly opposite.

The one positive was that Alora would be
there – in fact, she was picking Isabella up on the way, as Aunt
Geraldine needed her own coach. Isabella could wish her friend
happy with heartfelt sincerity for she was truly overjoyed that two
such delightful people should be getting married. She told her so
the moment she settled in the brougham, turning to take Alora’s
hands in her own.

‘My dear!’

Alora flushed but she looked radiant. ‘He
has told you, then?’

‘I think he must have come round as soon as
he left you. I have never seen a happier man. He was positively
floating.’

Alora smiled. ‘Aunt Elise is furious, of
course. She withdrew to her room and is taking her food on a tray.
I believe she is suffering from the vapors -’

‘And so will be reduced to five meals a
day!’

‘ –
and hopes that her
infirmity will persuade me to change my mind.’

Isabella patted her friend’s hand. ‘She will
be able to subsist for some weeks on nothing more than bread and
butter. I would not be concerned.’

Alora gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘I am not.
It may make me a wicked person, but I cannot find it in my heart to
care if she throws one of her tantrums. She will resign herself
soon enough and then I will have to ensure she does not try and
take over the wedding arrangements. At least when she is in her
room I know where she is.’

They arrived at the dance and Alora looked
around immediately, looking for her newly acquired fiancé. He was
not to be seen, however.

‘I wonder where he could be?’ It was already
gone nine-thirty.

‘He will be here. He could not stay away. It
is not so very late, after all.’

‘I know. But it is not like him not to be
here.’

‘Probably spreading the good news far and
wide. Do not fret. He will be arrive and remain glued to your side.
And,’ Isabella added wickedly, ‘you will soon be seeing him every
morning over the breakfast table.’ Which made Alora turn the same
pretty rose as Isabella’s dress.

Curiously, his lordship did not appear, a
circumstance so unusual that Alora and Isabella became increasingly
uneasy.

‘He would not have forgotten. He never
forgets such stuff,’ Alora fretted.

‘Something must have come up. You will hear
from him shortly,’ Isabella soothed, although she herself could not
imagine what was keeping him.

She had spent an
interesting night sidestepping James Huntingdon, an act of immense
stupidity on her part as she was supposed to be stepping in
front
of him to secure
his attention. Admittedly, she had danced with him twice and had
done her best to dazzle with her wit and charm but it had been
challenging, as she was feeling neither witty
nor
charming.

By eleven o’clock Joss had still not put in
an appearance and Alora was as deflated as Isabella. ‘I cannot
understand it,’ she said for perhaps the tenth time. ‘I do hope
nothing has happened to him.’

‘Do you wish to go? For I am perfectly happy
to leave whenever you are ready.’

‘I think so.’ Alora sounded forlorn and
Isabella squeezed her hand gently.

‘Tomorrow morning, if you have not heard for
him, we will take it upon ourselves to discover what happened to
him. I am sure it was something important for I cannot imagine him
willingly staying away.’

‘Yes… You don’t think… well, I have heard
that Joss has had some difficulties with an unsavory
moneylender…’

‘Gallows Jack,’ Isabella said without
thinking.

‘What
did you say?’

Isabella could have bitten her tongue. The
last thing she wanted was to alarm her friend unnecessarily. ‘Just
some absurd name. I am sure that it is a… a pet name.’