Gayle Buck (5 page)

Mr. Underwood put up his quizzing glass arid stared through it at the gentleman. His attitude was one of bored indifference. “I, for one, would hardly be interested in such a one-sided contest. The last quite pointedly showed up the greater skill.”

Sir Nigel reddened. Too angered to utter a single word, he made a short bow and stalked off on his companion’s arm.

“My dear Carey,” Lord St. John said softly, “resist these efforts on my behalf. I am well able to bring myself out of a skirmish.”

“Then do something about that poltroon. I shall stand your second whenever you say,” said Mr. Underwood heatedly, dropping his glass. He stared after Sir Nigel, whom he considered had dealt to the viscount a high insult, no matter that it had been couched in friendly words.

“I do not make a spectacle of myself by engaging to duel with every fool in town,” Lord St. John said shortly. There was a faint smile on his lips as he swept a contemptuous glance about the floor of Tattersall’s. “I shall so honor only the
crême de la crême.”

A laugh was startled out of Mr. Underwood, drawing the astonished attention of several gentlemen. However, Sir Nigel appeared extremely annoyed. He snapped a word to his companion and left the vicinity altogether.

As for those who were not privy to the cause of amusement, it was to be seen that Viscount Weemswood was in fine form in order to be cracking jokes with his boon companion, Mr. Underwood. A grudging respect was accorded his lordship by many of the lookers-on and some, who had hung back in judgment of how Lord St. John meant to go on, were agreeably surprised. It was, naturally, to Lord St. John’s credit that he was presenting such a well-preserved front. It showed the breeding of a true gentleman.

Shortly thereafter several gentlemen approached Lord St. John and Mr. Underwood, ostensibly to talk horseflesh but it was tacitly understood by all parties that, though never a word was said on the topic, there was approval of the viscount’s manner and some sympathy at least for his predicament.

Lord St. John did not purchase a horse, not an unusual occurrence in itself, for he was known for his selectiveness, but noted nonetheless by his sharp-eyed peers.

Mr. Underwood bid for and acquired a showy gelding. After making arrangements for his new possession, he reminded Lord St. John that he had a previous engagement that he was rather anxious to keep. “It is not that I do not find your company agreeable, Sinjin, but you will shortly be
de trop,”
he said with a grin.

Lord St. John laughed. “I shall not keep you any longer, then.”

“Yes, I suppose you have a few calls of your own to make,” said Mr. Underwood, his tone making of it a question.

Lord St. John’s smile twisted. He assured his friend that he would indeed honor the remainder of his obligations that afternoon. His lips curled in self-derision. “I, too, occasionally accept my share of bear-leading from the fairer sex. I am engaged to drive Lady Althea later.”

“Are you?” asked Mr. Underwood slowly. There was an inflection of surprise in his voice, which caused the viscount to glance sharply at him; but if Mr. Underwood had thoughts on the matter, he preferred to keep them to himself. “Well, I shall not see you again. Unless you mean to drop into the club later? Nana and I are meeting for dinner and I expect there will be a few other companionable spirits about.”

“I have not made up my mind. I may attend Lady Pothergill’s rout instead,” said Lord St. John coolly.

Mr. Underwood gave a low whistle, signaling astonishment and admiration. “In for a penny, in for a pound, Sinjin?”

Lord St. John allowed his most cynical smile to light his eyes. “What else? Let them all stare and titter. It will run that much the quicker through the gossip mill.”

“Will the beauteous Lady Althea care for being the center of all eyes at the rout? I assume, of course, that you are to act as her ladyship’s escort,” said Mr. Underwood.

Lord St. John gave a short bark of laughter. “Come, Carey! When has Althea ever balked at the prospect of garnering the attention of every eye? She’ll want to attend the rout, never fear.”

Mr. Underwood frowned, disturbed. “You have so few illusions, Sinjin.”

Lord St. John again laughed, but this time with a bitter edge. “It is indeed a sad lack in my character, Carey. I am thought to be not quite human.” He grimaced suddenly. “However, I will grant you this much of a glimpse of human feeling. I hope to God that some other scandal will ascend onto the horizon.”

At Mr. Underwood’s changing expression, he instantly regretted the confidence. At once he reverted back to his usual sardonic manner. “In Tattersall’s I had the devil of a time holding on to my temper, which is never of the best, as you know. The last straw was your infernal impudence to have objected to my opinion of that slab-sided tit you bought.”

Mr. Underwood accorded his lordship a sympathetic laugh. “No doubt I shall rue the day that I laid out my blunt on it, but I had a fancy for the bay. I mean to give it to a friend, in any event.”

“No one with sense will take it,” said Lord St. John. He regarded Mr. Underwood’s swift grin and raised brow, and with sudden comprehension, laughed.
“Oh, she will like it, I don’t doubt. The tit is showy enough. You must tell me sometime if appreciation for a horse far outstrips that for a bonnet or a bauble.”

“That is what I mean to find out this afternoon,” admitted Mr. Underwood. He laughed at the viscount’s grimace and, with a wave of his hand, he left his lordship to his own devices.

Chapter 5

At five o’clock Lord St. John presented himself at a fashionable address in St. James Street. The note he had sent around to his betrothed, Lady Althea, some hours before had been to inform her that he had returned early to London and that he would be happy to wait on her at the usual hour. He was therefore unsurprised when he was immediately ushered into the house to await the lady’s appearance.

He cut a commanding figure in a multi-caped driving coat that fell to his heels. Underneath it lie wore a coat of superfine cloth, cut close to his broad shoulders, and buckskins smoothed into mirror-polished top boots. Extra whip points were thrust through his lapel and he carried a pair of driving gloves.

He allowed the porter to take his beaver, but declined to give up his driving coat and the gloves, since he expected to be leaving the house again in short order. Lady Althea never left him to kick his heels for more than a quarter hour, for she understood that he would not allow his horses to stand any longer. On two occasions, the viscount had been known to leave a polite but terse message that he would appoint another afternoon more convenient for her for driving. Lady Althea had learned to her chagrin, carefully hidden but never forgotten, that she could not command the viscount’s anticipation of her grand entrance while his cattle grew restless.

Lord St. John waited in the front parlor. He noticed without particular interest that the furnishings had been changed. He did wonder, however fleetingly, why he had been shown into the formal room when before he had always been received in the lady’s private sitting room. He shrugged, thinking it but another conceit of his betrothed.

The seeming puzzle was solved when the door opened and Lady Althea entered the room. He had not realized until that instant that the blue silk hangings and blue-and-gold striped coverings on the gilded furniture would prove to be the perfect foil for her dazzling beauty. Lord St. John smiled, for he was no stranger to his lady’s vanity.

Lady Althea offered her hand to him, the touch of her slim fingers cool on his. “My lord.” She returned his smile, hers a bewitching sight to the male of the species.

Lady Althea had been blessed with unquestioned birth and beauty. The daughter of the Earl of Cowltern, she could look as high as she wished for a husband; but it was her beauty that made her remarkable. She was fortunate to possess a sylphlike figure that was the envy and despair of every other lady in society. Her guinea-gold hair framed a face of classical purity. If there was a lack of spontaneity in her smile or on occasion a hardness in her deep blue eyes, these faults were overlooked in the general concession that Lady Althea was a diamond of the first water.

Lord St. John was mildly surprised that his betrothed was not dressed to go out driving with him. Lady Althea wore a lovely dimity dress that enhanced her slender femininity and, while he was appreciative of the vision that she presented, he knew that it was not a dress suitable for the seat of a high-perch phaeton.

It had become an established habit that he should drive his betrothed at least once a week in the park during the fashionable hour and such was his intention for this afternoon. Lady Althea had never concealed that she thoroughly enjoyed the attention that she was thus afforded in being seen with such a notable whip as Viscount Weemswood and it had not mattered to him that she should take advantage of their betrothal to serve her own conceit.

As Lord St. John straightened from brushing a kiss across her fingers, he said quizzingly, “That is a marvelously fetching gown, but should you not exchange it for one more suitable since you are driving with me today?”

Lady Althea freed her hand and turned away, presenting her faultless profile to him. She stepped over to the occasional table to reorder the blood-red roses in an already perfect bouquet. “I have changed my mind, my lord.”

Lord St. John detected a considerable coolness in her tone and her expression. Such was her reserve that he did not believe that she was referring to their driving assignation. He stiffened.

It had not occurred to him before that his own betrothed might not stand by him. If he had given any thought to Lady Althea at all, he had vaguely assumed that she would join him in his social exile. It was a matter of public record that they were betrothed and the date of their nuptials had already been announced. It was inconceivable that either party could gracefully exit the contract at this late date.

In view of the lightning bolt which had befallen him, Lord St. John had actually been thankful that that part of his life had already been decided. The dowry settled on Lady Althea would not cover all of his expenses, of course, but it would do much toward preserving his pride over the debts of honor that he owed to certain of his peers. That much of his reputation he could be certain of salvaging out of the mess, at least.

At Lady Althea’s deliberate words, however, the conjecture that his betrothed had gotten cold feet definitely reared up its ugly head. Testing her, he said, “I had thought of escorting you to Lady Pothergill’s this evening.”

Lady Althea briefly considered him from out of bright, but rather hard, blue eyes before returning her attention to the roses. “It is good of you to offer. However, Papa has requested that I make one of his party this evening.”

Instantly the expression in his gray eyes became completely shuttered. He leaned a broad shoulder against the mantel, stretching his arm along its length, his leather driving gloves crushed between his strong fingers.

He would not pretend to misunderstand her. It was not in his character to do so. “Indeed, ma’am. And to what do I owe this abrupt turnaround?”

Lady Althea lifted one slender shoulder. Her pure profile did not reveal anything to the gentleman who regarded her so closely. “I have heard disturbing news, my lord. It has quite overset me.”

Lord St. John’s mouth tightened. A hard light entered his eyes. “Perhaps you will be good enough to enlighten me as to the cause of your upset, my lady.”

Lady Althea turned, holding a delicate stem between her fingers. Her slim blond brows rose. “Oh, Sinjin, must we fence like this? It is all over town. The Duke of Alton has married that creature—because she is increasing! I was never more shocked in my life.”

She paused a moment, cocking her lovely head as she regarded the rose cupped in her hand. “And never more regretful.”

Lord St. John slowly straightened away from the mantel. His expression had gone very still. “What exactly are you trying to say, Althea?”

Lady Althea put the fragile bloom to her exquisite nostrils. “My dear Sinjin, surely we are too well acquainted for you to mistake my meaning.”

Lord St. John’s lips twisted. He would be damned if he would ease the way for her. “Nevertheless, Althea, pray indulge me.”

She sighed and turned to gently replace the rose into the middle of the bouquet. “How very vulgar of you, Sinjin. Very well; your suit is no longer acceptable to me. That is bald enough, is it not? I have already spoken of it to my father and he understands my feelings perfectly. I could not possibly contemplate marriage to you now.”

Lord St. John spoke exceedingly softly. “Am I so different than I was two days ago, Althea?”

Lady Althea looked over her shoulder at him in incomprehension. “Of course you are, Sinjin. Two days ago you were heir presumptive to a dukedom. I would eventually have become a duchess. Now you are a mere viscount.”

“Whilst you are the daughter of an earl,” said Lord St. John with heavy irony.

Lady Althea regarded him with a gathering unfriendliness in her blue eyes. She turned slowly toward him. “Such mockery is beneath you, my lord.”

“On the contrary,
I
am beneath you. Isn’t that what you actually mean, my lady?” asked Lord St. John from between his tight-clenched teeth.

Startled by the blaze of naked fury in his cold gray eyes, Lady Althea took an instinctive step backward. The sharp edge of the occasional table stopped her retreat, reminding her of what she owed her consequence. She stretched to her full height and said coldly, “I think you should leave now, my lord.”

“And so I shall, with alacrity, my lady!”

Lord St. John turned on his heel. Before he had quite reached the door, however, he whirled back to the earl’s lovely daughter. “But first—”

In two swift strides, he had reached her and hauled her, astonished, into his arms. With one hand he forced up her chin. He kissed her ruthlessly, for several seconds, before thrusting her from him quite abruptly.