Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 04] (26 page)

“My goodness me, sir, you act as if
I
am the one doing something wrong! I saw you walk back here quite a long time ago. When you did not immediately reappear, I thought at first that you must have found some fascinating horticultural specimen, but I see now that it was no such thing. Lady Letitia, are you quite all right? My goodness me, I do not know whom one should blame for such a scene, but I do know that neither my mama nor Lady Tavistock will approve.”

Finding herself speechless for once, Letty did not try to respond. Still, she found it possible to feel sorry for Miss Devon-Poole when, with icy displeasure, Raventhorpe said, “Of course her ladyship is all right. You are a great deal too busy, Miss Devon-Poole. If your mama and Lady Tavistock will disapprove of anything in this scene, I daresay it will be your pursuit of us without first acquiring an escort for yourself. A public affair like this is no place for a young woman to walk about by herself. I certainly do not approve of such reckless behavior.”

Miss Devon-Poole, flushing scarlet, gasped, then turned without another word and hurried away.

Letty said quietly, “You know that she will very likely tell the first dozen people she meets what she saw.”

“Perhaps,” he replied, “but perhaps not. She is just as likely to hold her tongue until she can think up a plausible excuse for following us here that won’t make her look like a jealous cat.”

Hearing a note of amusement in his voice, she looked up.

His eyes were twinkling, and she knew in that moment that she would have to work hard to insulate herself against her feelings, for never before had she known a man with whom she could more easily imagine falling in love, or one who would make her a worse husband. Too much did she value her independent ways, and too greatly did he want to change them.

Even if love could conquer all, nothing was less likely than that he would fall in love with her. He came from one of the great Whig families, for one thing, which made them—politically speaking, at least—like Romeo and Juliet; and she had no wish to commit suicide. For another, if he were hanging out for a wife, he would have found one by now. To be sure, Catherine had told her that everyone believed he had an interest in Miss Devon-Poole, but she had not credited that even before today; and what she had just seen surely proved it was nonsense.

As for kissing her, he had probably just taken the first route he could think of to end a difficult scene. He must have known he had gone too far in ripping up at her like he had; but she had gone over the mark, too, in slapping him.

He had not even tried to discuss the whole business rationally. He simply had wanted to regain control, for that was what drove him, but having let her guard fall once, she knew it might fall again. That would never do. Only heartache and perhaps even a scene similar to the one Miss Devon-Poole had just endured lay ahead if she allowed herself to succumb to the great physical attraction he stirred in her. She must, she decided, strive to overcome it.

He was watching her, and she feared that he could read her thoughts. Looking him straight in the eye, she said, “You may find amusement in my situation, sir, but I do not. It does not matter when Miss Devon-Poole speaks or to whom. She will do my reputation grave damage in any event.”

“You just let me—Oh Lord, rain!”

The clouds overhead had burst without the usual polite, warning drizzle. Water sluiced down in sheets, soaking them.

“Your aunts!” Letty cried, pulling her hood up over her head.

Whatever he had been about to say went unsaid in the scramble to find Mrs. Linford and Miss Abby, and make their way through the teeming crowd to Letty’s carriage, but Letty had little doubt what he had intended to say. If she would just let him take control of everything, and would follow his advice, he would protect her. It was just as well, she decided, that he had saved his breath.

Raventhorpe refused to get into the carriage with them, insisting that he had brought his own and that, furthermore, he had come with a friend who would drown before leaving without him.

Glad of the respite, Letty soon felt grateful for the heavy rain, too, because the racket it created made it easy to evade the old ladies’ delicately phrased hints that she tell them all that Raventhorpe had said to her. They fell silent at last, but it was difficult to think. She knew she needed time to collect herself and to consider her options, but she also knew that she was unlikely to enjoy that luxury. Less than four hours remained before Lady Sellafield’s dinner party.

R
AIN WAS STILL POURING
down when Letty’s carriage drew to a stop in Upper Brook Street to set down the two old ladies. She feared that the long afternoon might have tired them so that they would not enjoy Lady Sellafield’s dinner party, but when she suggested as much, they hastened to reassure her.

“Oh, no, my dear,” Miss Abby said, clearing a circle on the fogged window with her handkerchief and peering out. “We wouldn’t miss Sally’s party, not for anything.”

“A short nap will suffice to restore our energy,” Mrs. Linford agreed. She looked at Letty searchingly. “I did not quite like to press you before now, my dear, but you look a trifle down-pin. Did Raventhorpe say something to upset you?”

Remembering his kiss, Letty felt warmth flood her cheeks, but she managed to answer calmly, “It was as I suspected, ma’am. He wanted to have his say about my going alone yesterday in search of Liza. He does not approve of women who show the least spark of independence, I fear.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Miss Abby agreed without turning.

“He certainly doesn’t,” Mrs. Linford echoed, with so much feeling that Letty looked at her in surprise.

“Goodness, ma’am, what—?”

“Did he not speak to you about us, then, dear?”

“Miranda, poor Lucas is standing in the rain waiting for us, and there is Jackson now, hurrying out with our umbrella,” Miss Abby exclaimed “We must go in at once! It won’t do for either of them to catch his death of cold on our account.”

Letty wanted to ask what Raventhorpe had done to agitate the aunts, but Lucas and Jackson were waiting and she did not have time to go inside if she was to be ready in time for Lady Sellafield’s dinner party. So she held her tongue, certain she would find out soon enough, in any event.

As the carriage made its way back to Piccadilly and then along the Strand, she leaned back, enjoying the pounding of the rain on the roof now, and the added clatter of iron wheels swishing through puddles on the cobblestone streets. It was growing colder, but both Jonathan Coachman and Lucas wore protective oilskin coats and broad-brimmed hats, and the horses would find food and dry stalls in the stables at Jervaulx House. So for a few moments she managed to devote her thoughts wholly to Raventhorpe and to pondering the maze that lay ahead of her.

She could not deny that she liked the viscount. He was handsome, and even her grandfather in his worst temper could not have disapproved of his wealth or his rank in society. Indeed the crusty sixth marquess even would have approved of Raventhorpe’s determination to dominate everyone within his orbit. The one thing that he would not have approved, however, was Raventhorpe’s politics. If she had heard her grandfather refer to one damned Whig, she had heard him refer to fifty, and although the present Marquess of Jervaulx was not as staunchly conservative as his father had been, he was nonetheless a good Tory. He would doubtless have little good to say about his daughter’s interest in a gentleman Whig.

The cold had enveloped her by the time she reached home, and Miss Dibble greeted her with alarm. “My dear, you are drenched to the skin! I collect that that dreadful cloudburst caught you still in the gardens.”

“It certainly did, Elvira. Indeed I am glad you did not come with us. How are you feeling? Did you enjoy your day of quiet?”

“Yes, indeed. Jenifry and I have been going through your wardrobe to see what you will want to replace, and making lists of new things you should purchase.”

“You haven’t rested at all, in fact.”

Miss Dibble smiled. “I am glad to have had time to do what needed doing, but perhaps your parents would say I ought to have gone with you. Why did you not linger in Upper Brook Street until you were warm and dry again?”

“I won’t melt, Elvira. You’re the one who said you feared you might be coming down with something, not I. Here, Lucas, take my wet cloak to the kitchen to dry, and stay there yourself until you have had something hot to drink. I want you to escort us to Lady Sellafield’s dinner party tonight, but I shan’t need you until seven, when we will be ready to leave.”

Miss Dibble said, “Lucas, tell them her ladyship requires a hot bath, and tell them also to put it near the hearth in her bedchamber, not in her dressing room. They can build up the fire, too, whilst they are about it.”

Letty did not argue with these orders. Her cloak, wet as it had been, had kept her warmer than she was without it. She was beginning to shiver.

Miss Dibble hustled her upstairs to her bedchamber and rang for Jenifry, who arrived as two menservants carried in the high-backed tub and the first bucketsful of hot water. Jervaulx House did not boast any mechanized arrangement to provide hot water above the first floor, but old-fashioned methods still worked very well.

When the men had filled the tub and gone, Jenifry began to stir delicious-smelling French salts into the water. The fire crackled warmly on the hearth, and even in her wet clothing, Letty began to feel more comfortable.

With Miss Dibble’s help, she twisted her wet hair into a knot atop her head and quickly stripped off her clothes. As she stepped into the bath, she said, “You go and get dressed, Elvira. Jen can look after me without your help, but I daresay you will want to be present for the final touches to my dress.”

“Yes, indeed, for I mean to see that you look your best this evening. That place will be crawling with Whigs, Letitia. I don’t want them to notice a single curl out of place. We’d be hearing about that for a sennight afterward.”

Seeing Jenifry stiffen indignantly, Letty quelled her with a look and said, “You know that Jen always sees me well turned out, Elvira. I will be grateful for your advice after you have dressed, of course, but there is nothing for you to do here until I have finished bathing.”

When the woman had gone, Jenifry said as she handed Letty a bar of French soap, “Sometimes Miss Dibble makes my tongue fairly itch to tell her what I think.”

“Well, don’t do it,” Letty said. “I don’t mind when you say what you think to me, but I would have to take her side if you were impertinent to her. Hand me that cloth, will you? And you might as well wash my hair whilst we’re about it. It’s already wet, after all.”

Jenifry silently loosened Letty’s hair and poured warm water over it. While she lathered it, Letty relaxed against the back of the tub with her eyes shut.

“May I ask a question, miss?”

Letty opened her eyes. “Of course you may,” she said in surprise.

“Well, I did wonder. You went so quiet, and all.”

Letty knew that Jenifry’s reticence had more to do with the reproof than with the silence since, but she let the comment pass. “What is it, Jen?”

“About the queen, miss. Why is it she don’t allow Sir John Conroy to come near her anymore?”

“Mercy, why do you ask that?”

“Well, it does seem cruel to me that she’s pushed him to the background now, when he guided her every step before she took the throne. He’s got only her best interest at heart, I should think.”

“Sir John and the Duchess of Kent also kept the queen isolated from society when she was a princess, Jen. They scarcely ever allowed her to attend even court functions, let alone any others. If the old king had not insisted that she visit him from time to time, she would not have had the least idea of how to go on at court.”

“Then she cannot have learned all she needs to know to rule competently,” Jenifry pointed out. “Perhaps she ought to listen to them who care most about her.”

“Now that she is the queen, she wants to look like a queen,” Letty said firmly. “It is quite understandable that Her Majesty does not want Conroy, or her mother, or anyone else, telling her what to do now, Jen.”

“I suppose,” Jenifry said. “Still, some say we’d do better with a king now, miss, that other countries have good reason for keeping women off their thrones.”

“You, of all people, ought to know that a female is equal to anything,” Letty said, striving to retain her patience. “Think of Queen Elizabeth, for heaven’s sake. She did more for England than any ten kings.”

“Well, perhaps, but she was older, Elizabeth was, and some say—”

“Do they say who would rule this country if the law had prevented Her Majesty from taking the throne? It would be the King of Hanover. You certainly know enough about him to know that he would make us a dreadful ruler, Jen. Why they say he once murdered his own valet!”

“Lean forward, please, miss. I’m going to pour the rinse water now.”

Thinking she had finally made her point, Letty shut her eyes until Jenifry had finished rinsing the soap out of her hair and had twisted it up again in a towel.

Then Jenifry said, “Still and all, Miss Letty, they say Sir John was once the most powerful man in the country, and that he’s right smart, too. They say that Her Majesty should reinstate him, and not take all her advice from Lord Melbourne.”

Letty sighed.
“Who
says?”

“It just ain’t right the way Her Majesty looks only to Lord Melbourne,” Jenifry said without answering the question. “They say he is much more than—”

“It is no secret that Sir John hoped to become the power behind the throne,” Letty said, cutting in before Jenifry could say more about the queen’s relationship with Melbourne. Clearly, Jenifry had been talking to others about all this, and it would do neither her nor her mistress any good if it became known around the court that Letitia Deverill’s dresser dared to speak ill of the queen and her prime minister.

Hoping to make it plain that she would disapprove of such unseemly prattle, Letty added gently, “I may not always support Melbourne’s political positions, but he is a good man, and he manages Her Majesty much more deftly than Conroy did.”