The Willful Widow (29 page)
By the time he reached Mount Street, Justin was in an agony of doubt. So preoccupied was he that he almost stumbled over Lord Beardsley, who was in the act of knocking on his door.
"Why hello, Alan, what are you doing here?"
"Coming to call on you." Alan peered curiously at his friend. Justin was not usually one to belabor the obvious.
"Well, I am not at home" was the short reply.
"Whatever has put you in such a bad skin?" Really Justin was acting most unlike himself. The air of worried preoccupation was most unlike his customary cynical insouciance.
"I am being a bit of a bear, aren't I," Justin began ruefully just as Preston opened the door. "Do come and tell me what is on your mind."
"Well, it's this masquerade," Alan began as soon as the two were ensconced in large comfortable chairs with glasses of port. "I wondered if you had selected your costume yet. Lady Diana is thinking of going as Andromeda and Lady 269
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Walden as Cassiopeia. We wondered if you could be Perseus, and I shall go as Orion, or I suppose it could be the other way around, you could go as Orion and I could go as Perseus."
"Perseus, Orion?" Justin could hardly believe that Alan, misanthrope that he was, had actually come to discuss costumes to a masquerade with him. What or who had wrought this drastic change in him? Justin did not have to look far. Only Lady Diana could have made the event appealing enough to the marquess to make it palatable.
"Constellations, old fellow," Alan volunteered helpfully. Really, Justin was being singularly obtuse today. Something of major import must have occurred to make him so dull.
"I
know,
they're constellations. I'm not a complete nodcock. I am just surprised ... well, that is to say I think you would make a much better Orion." He eyed his friend's massive figure, "Yes, I picture Orion as large and powerful while Perseus was, er, slighter."
"Really?" Alan was high gratified at this comparison, not that anyone would ever have been in danger of calling St. Clair's lean athletic figure
slight,
but despite his muscular physique, his considerable height did make him appear more slender than his fellows.
"Good. That's settled," Alan remarked abruptly. He eased himself out of his chair. "Must be on my way now—
calculations I was in the middle of that I must get back to," he declared acting for all the world, Justin thought to himself in some amusement, as though they were going to boil over if left unattended.
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"Well, off with you then." Justin rose as well. "I shall look forward to seeing you at Lady Topham's old fellow." The door closed behind the marquess, leaving Justin alone with his unsettling reflections. Suzette was entirely in the right of it. Diana had rapidly become an obsession with him. Hardly an hour passed without his wondering what she would say about this, what she would think about that. Strolling down the street or riding through the park, he would catch sight of a slender woman with dark hair and quicken his pace in the hope that it would be Diana.
He couldn't remember when he had devoted so many of his thoughts to another person. Even in his salad days, when he had been in the throes of his first infatuation, the lady had rarely intruded into his preoccupation with horses and school pranks. Now the time he spent away from Diana's company seemed curiously flat and aimless. Was it, could it be love?
Never having fallen victim to that disquieting disorder, Justin could not be sure. Certainly he was not blind to the lady's faults as Reginald had been or as he had witnessed in other acquaintances in the grip of that emotion. He knew very well she could be stubborn and independent to a fault, rising to a challenge without the least consideration for her safety or her reputation.
Indeed, though he had never enjoyed the company of anyone more than he did that of Lady Diana Hatherill, Justin could safely say that he had never been so aggravated by anyone either. It was a very odd situation to be sure. Curiously enough he felt proud of her as well. That anyone could make Alan consider attending a social affair was 271
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momentous enough in and of itself, but that he should actually look forward to something as frivolous as a costume ball enough to consult Justin about it was nothing short of incredible. And it was all owing to Diana's gift for making whomever she was with feel relaxed and self-confident enough to be comfortable with the rest of the world. In fact, Justin himself was surprised at his own pleasurable anticipation of Lady Topham's masquerade. Assured of felicitous company, he would quite enjoy watching the antics of the
ton
from the safety of a congenial group. It was a new feeling for one who ordinarily stood aside in proud isolation watching such affairs with cynical superiority.
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The evening of Lady Topham's affair was unseasonably balmy with soft breezes wafting the scent of spring flowers and causing the hundreds of
torchères.
illuminating the impressive facade and the pathways throughout the splendid gardens, to flicker and dance, adding to the sense of fascination and enchantment as the most select of the Upper Ten Thousand made their way to the magnificent residence. Eyes behind masks glittered with excitement and intrigue, and smiles betrayed the eager anticipation of rare entertainment. Lady Topham was noted for her imaginative diversions whether it was flocks of rare birds released just as dawn was streaking the sky, brilliant fireworks, or fantastical ice sculptures in midsummer.
Slowly moving up the huge marble staircase to the brilliantly lit ballroom, Justin, Lady Diana, and Lady Walden were surrounded by pirates, shepherdesses, long dead kings and queens, and characters from every legend or myth one could call to mind. Surveying the crowd massed in the entry below them, Diana gazed in silent fascination at the vast array of costumes and headdresses. "It's as good as a play, isn't it?" she breathed. "And no one knows who one is, so one can observe as much as one likes without causing comment. Everyone is too occupied with discovering the identities of all the guests to remark on who is talking to whom, or to make one feel uncomfortable if one prefers not to dance." 273
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Privately Justin thought that Diana with her slender elegant figure and graceful carriage was as easily identifiable as if she were without the dainty gold mask, which only lent an enchanting air of mystery to the beautifully inviting lips parted breathlessly beneath it or delicate dark eyebrows arched above it. Who else would have selected a costume so simple that it stood out among the rest of the gaudy company? Besides the flowing white drapery and daring gold sandals of Andromeda, every other woman appeared tawdry and overdressed.
Certainly Lady Blanche Howard, just arrived with the Duchess of Wrayburn and Lord Livermore, and catching sight of Andromeda, could have wrung Diana's neck, for the stark white of the costume, unrelieved by anything except the gold cords which fastened it and the gilded sandals and mask were infuriatingly conspicuous. The eye traveling over a surfeit of jewels and hues naturally fixed on it, and Lady Blanche though she might at first have been in doubt as to its wearer's identity, had no trouble recognizing the imposing figure next to her. Few men of the
ton
could boast the height and the powerful build of Justin St. Clair. Blanche ground her teeth. Just a short time ago St. Clair had scoffed at the merest suggestion that he attend something as silly as Lady Topham's masquerade, and yet here he was escorting a woman who bid fair to become the cynosure of all eyes if the reactions of the gentlemen next to her and those in front and in back of her were anything to go by. They could not keep their eyes off the slim figure in white whose curves were so tantalizingly emphasized by the gold 274
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cord, and who was so obviously enjoying a highly animated conversation with her two companions.
"Who's that?" Lord Livermore, gazing raptly at Diana, gave voice to Blanche's thoughts.
"Oh, don't you know St. Clair's latest interest?" the duchess chirped gleefully, delighted to be one up on one of the
ton's
most knowing members. "That is Lady Diana Hatherill, poor Ferdie's widow. She ordinarily keeps herself quite apart from such amusements as this, but apparently Justin's legendary charm is too strong even for that hoitytoity young woman. They say he's quite devoted. Who would have thought he would pay the least attention to someone as blue as she is rumored to be. What a waste of a charming man! But, oh, look there. Have you ever seen anything as ridiculous as Lady Birdthwaite? Why, she is sixty if she's a day and dressed as a shepherdess." The duchess tittered happily behind her fan and renewed her grip on Lord Livermore's arm.
Meanwhile, Blanche was seething. That Justin should deprive her of his escort in favor of that, that
antidote
would have been beyond comprehension if it weren't so infuriating. How could he possibly prefer a reclusive bluestocking to an incomparable, she fumed to herself, forgetting entirely that Justin St. Clair had never voiced the least interest in escorting Lady Blanche Howard anywhere. All pleasure in the evening evaporated. Even the knowledge that she was clutching the arm of another of the ton's most eligible bachelors and accompanied by one of its most sought after hostesses was of no comfort. Now the elaborate Egyptian headdress and daring 275
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gown of gold satin cut low across the bosom and enhanced by a glittering parure of enormous emeralds seem vulgar and overblown next to the purity of Andromeda's attire. Blanche resolved to keep a careful watch on the trio, a strategy that was likely only to increase her distaste for the evening, as Andromeda was undoubtedly one of the belles of the ball. She was constantly surrounded by a crowd of Henry the Eighth's, cavaliers, monks, and pirates. Even the Marquess of Hillingdon made up a part of the admiring coterie. Ordinarily Lady Blanche Howard would not have been caught dead even being seen in proximity to such an eccentric as the marquess, but the fact that such a noted misogynist was clearly enjoying himself in the company of Lady Diana, even going so far as to waltz with her, only served to enrage the beauty further.
In fact, no one could have been more surprised than Alan to find himself at such an affair sporting a lion skin over his shoulder and a thick cudgel, but having committed himself, he entered into the spirit of things with more zest than he would have thought possible. As for his mother, she did not know what to think, torn as she was between dismay that her mild-mannered son had firmly refused to be Lord Darnley despite all her tears and sighs, and triumph that she had at last gotten him to acquiesce without having to resort to dire threats. She had still been trying to decide which of these conflicting emotions to give way to when they arrived at Lady Topham's. However, the decision was wrested from her by her son when upon their arrival, he had actually asked a 276
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female to dance with him, thus rendering the dowager marchioness speechless.
Speechless was also the word that could well have been applied to Lady Blanche. The final seal was set on her fury when some time later she observed Perseus and Andromeda slipping out through the French doors at the end of the ballroom. Pleading that her costume needed adjusting, Blanche excused herself from her own crowd of admirers and, after a quick trip to the cloakroom to ward off suspicion, unashamedly made her own way in the direction the couple had disappeared. When she reached the terrace outside the ballroom, however, Justin and Diana were nowhere to be seen, but there were numerous couples and groups of couples strolling among the gardens enjoying the fresh air and the moonlight.
Blanche gave up in disgust as she tried to distinguish her quarry among them. She already knew enough as it was. There was no real need to see further evidence that Lady Diana would stoop to any level to capture Justin St. Clair. Just wait until Blanche had discreetly spread the rumor around the ballroom that Ferdie Hatherill's widow was trying to ensnare another wealthy husband.
Indeed, Blanche knew very little, if any, of Lady Diana's history, but she knew enough to be sure that Diana had not been on the town until she had become Lady Diana Hatherill and that was all she needed, allowing her imagination to fill in as it would. Obviously Diana had made a match that had lifted her from obscurity the first time and was trying to do 277
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the same thing the second, Blanche remarked pityingly into a few carefully selected ears.
Meanwhile, blissfully unaware of the machinations they had set in motion, Justin and Diana were strolling along Lady Topham's carefully tended garden paths in a leisurely manner, conversing amiably on a wide range of topics. Like Blanche, Justin had been well aware of the attention Diana was attracting the moment they arrived, even before eager partners had begun to cluster around her and, to his own disgust, he had fallen prey to a most uncomfortable attack of what could only be called jealousy, an emotion hitherto not experienced by the
ton's
most eligible bachelor. Yes, he was delighted that she was so admired. It was about time that society appreciated her, but at the same time, he did not wish to share her with anyone else. He wanted to be the only man who could make her smile and laugh, the only one who could cause a sparkle of interest to shine in the blue eyes. Suddenly she was surrounded by a bevy of eager swains who hung on her every word. Entirely forgetting that he had been unmoved by such a situation several weeks earlier, Justin sought for some way to detach Diana from the group surrounding her so that he could have her all to himself. In what was a purely selfish move, he invited her to partake of some fresh air with him in the garden. Blithely unconscious of the varied emotions that she had caused to seethe in more than one jealous breast, Diana gratefully agreed, for she had begun to find the crowd, not to mention the assiduous attention of her admirers, somewhat claustrophobic. A breeze fluttered her draperies and gently 278
