June Calvin (5 page)

Lady Cornwall, her face closed, offered her hand, a tight smile reflecting her alarm, for John Warner’s glance had already strayed to Jennifer three times; it was clear he was smitten. As for Jennifer, instead of pinking up and retreating into her shell, she surprised her mother by offering her hand to John quite as if she’d known him all of her life.

“Where have you only sheep and trout?” she asked.

“John recently inherited his family’s estate in Scotland,” Harwood said.

“Yes, a mere thousand acres, most of it straight up.” John shrugged his shoulders, disdaining to represent his property as a prosperous one.

“But some of the finest trout streams in Britain,” the duke interposed. “However, I daresay you do not care to fish?”

“But we do, Your Grace! My mother learned from her father, and taught me. It is the best of all pastimes.”

John quickly abandoned his defensiveness, enchanted by Jennifer’s obvious delight. Since Sarah and her father also enjoyed the sport, conversation was on fish stories for a few moments. They were interrupted by a gentle clearing of Timmons’s throat as the butler motioned a footman to set the massive tea service down where Sarah could preside.

“In addition, Timmons, please serve us champagne. We have something to celebrate.” The duke winked at John, but shook his head when Sarah attempted to question him. “All in good time. How was your ride?”

Sarah told him of meeting Lord Alexander Meade and Henry Fortesque, and the duke was interested to see how animated her features became as she described the encounter.
One of those young men has caught her eye
, he thought, pleased. He glanced at Lady Cornwall and Jennifer. The latter had returned to her conversation with John, apparently not interested in the events in the park. Lady Cornwall wore a serious, almost grim expression that Harwood was coming to recognize. Something was not right there.

Timmons entered with the champagne, and when all the others had been served, the duke proposed a toast to John as the new member of the House of Commons from Little Twinnings. Sarah gave a pleased yelp. “Mr. Tarbridge came to resign, then? Oh, John! And you have agreed? That is of all things wonderful.”

“Not only did Tarbridge resign, he brought what he hoped was his replacement, a disgusting toady who promised to do his best to reverse the House’s support of the chimney sweep reforms. I think I can be a good king’s man without insisting on the rights of tiny children to so lucrative and pleasant a form of employment.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Warner,” Lady Cornwall said, “I trust your sentiments are aligned with the duke’s on this issue?”

“On that and many more, which is as well since he and three elderly retired farmers make up my entire constituency! Little Twinnings is one of those infamous pocket boroughs.” John acknowledged her congratulations with a lift of his glass.

After they had drunk to his new position, Jennifer coughed a little. “Excuse me.” She put one hand to her mouth. “I’ve never . . . that is, it is wonderful, but . . .”

“Much more potent than ratafia, is it not?” From her lofty experience Sarah was properly blasé. “But so much more delicious.”

Smiling covertly at the two young women, John put his glass down. “Actually, this is an odd sort of celebration, since I made it clear to the duke that one of my absolute conditions in accepting the seat is that I be permitted to vote myself out of office at the first opportunity.”

Jennifer turned adoring eyes on him. “Then you disapprove of holding parliamentary seats as property?”

John quickly agreed, hiding his surprise at finding her
au fait
with the situation. “Yes. I am not one of your reforming zealots, like Lord Langley and his ilk, but I do think voting rights should be extended to more property-owning Englishmen. Perhaps our agreement on this point is why Justin was so generous as to make me a gift of this seat.”

For the first time Lady Cornwall’s expression as she addressed John was one of real warmth. “I congratulate you both for your forward-looking position. And once you have extended the right to vote to more Englishmen, perhaps you will consider granting it to Englishwomen.”

A silence fell. The duke lifted both eyebrows. John’s mouth dropped slightly open. After a moment Jennifer whispered, horrified, “M-o-o-t-h-e-r-r.”

“Forgive me, gentlemen. I hope you will not reveal to the
ton
at large that I am such a radical. But so many of the indignities and mistreatment that women experience . . .” Suddenly she stood. “It is time and past that we were going, Jennifer. We must get back before it is dark.”

“I am sorry that you must rush off without exploring this fascinating subject any further, Lady Cornwall.” John stood, too, followed by the duke. “You might be surprised at how liberal some of our views are.” He glanced for confirmation at Harwood, who only smiled enigmatically.

“Actually, I was more interested in storing up gossip I could retail to the
ton
,” the duke murmured.

“Forgive me, sir, I didn’t mean to imply . . .”

“No, I don’t think I shall, unless you agree to permit me to escort you and Jennifer to Monsieur Pacquin’s concert and recital this Friday. Sarah is one of his pupils.”

Aware that she had as good as called the duke a gossip, Deborah was eager to mend her fences. “That would be delightful.”

“Mother, are you forgetting that you were going to invite Sarah to spend the night tonight?”

“Perhaps the duke would prefer . . .”

Sarah confidently slid her arm around her father’s waist. Resting her head against his chest, she looked up at him. “You’ll be glad to be rid of me for the evening, won’t you, Father? Indeed, so glad I daresay you’ll summon the carriage so we don’t have to ride in this mist.”

He traced her small nose with one long forefinger. “How did you guess, mousekin?”

“See! I’ll go and get my things. Come with me, Jennifer!” Catching her new friend by the hand, Sarah pulled her from the room.

“A deplorable lack of decorum.” The duke motioned for Lady Cornwall to be seated while waiting. “Are you sure you want that hoyden?”

Deborah smiled. “Sarah is a darling girl, and so wonderful for my Jennifer. I can’t begin to say how relieved I am that she’s found a friend so soon.”

“No more so than I, dear lady, as you well know. Now tell me more of your revolutionary plans for the English electorate.”

Chapter 5

Appalled by the situation her runaway tongue had gotten her into, Deborah cast around frantically for some other topic of conversation. Suddenly she remembered the invitation they had received.

“Lord Alexander and Mr. Fortesque invited us to attend a military review tomorrow afternoon. Do I have your permission to take Sarah? I had the impression she was keen to go. Both of them were, in fact.”

“Naturally. What young girl wouldn’t wish to regard several hundred handsome young men in military regalia? But I don’t believe I will allow you to take Sarah.”

Deborah’s glance flew to Harwood’s face. “Have I quite sunk myself in your eyes, then?”

“Far from it. I wish for more of your company. I shall give myself the pleasure of escorting you. That is, if you are willing?”

Deborah looked at Harwood warily. Was he flirting with her? She mustn’t encourage that! But on the other hand, she could hardly refuse his escort. She did not wish to do anything to prevent Jennifer’s friendship with Sarah from ripening.

She looked at John for distraction, but he was blissfully unaware of Harwood’s flirtation or her uneasiness. Once Jennifer had left the room, he had lost interest in the conversation in favor of the delicious cakes and sweet biscuits on the tea tray. He was making serious inroads upon the heaped bounty. Deborah decided to defuse the situation by bringing more people into it.

“Of course. And you will attend with us, too, Mr. Warner?”

John stopped with his fork in midair. The last thing he was expecting from the Dowager Viscountess Cornwall was a social invitation. She had looked daggers at him for admiring her daughter. He hastily replaced his fork and set down his plate.

“I beg your pardon, my lady. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Lady Cornwall says that she and the girls were invited to a military review tomorrow. Naturally, you’ll want to accompany us.” Harwood chuckled at John’s astonishment.

“Of course, my lady. I’d be pleased to be one of the party. I expect my old regiment will make up part of the review.”

“Best get out your old uniform, John, or you’ll be quite cast into the shade by all of these sunshine soldiers,” the duke advised.

John grinned. “My uniform still has the hole it acquired at Waterloo. And from what I hear, these sunshine soldiers are seeing quite a bit of combat, right here in the streets of London.”

“Is putting down the riots so very dangerous, then?” Sarah’s alarmed question alerted them to the return of the young girls.

John could not resist teasing Sarah, with whom he had a brotherly relationship. “I think I’d rather face Napoleon’s legions again than an angry London mob. And only think of the shame if one failed—imagine having lost a battle to a ragtag gang of civilians armed mostly with staves and rocks. Ugh!”

“That is horrible. Why would the king’s troops have to do battle with the people of London?” Sarah’s knitted brow and fretful tone caused her father’s eyes to narrow with concern as he studied her face.

It was Jennifer who responded first. “The mob is hungry, and angry at the profligacy of the Regent. Only think how many could be fed on his extravagant architectural projects.”

“Very true, Jennifer.” The duke gave her an approving nod before turning to reassure his daughter. “I seriously doubt His Majesty’s troops could be overcome by such a mob. And I expect these reviews do much to remind the mob not to make the attempt. Doubtless that is their purpose, at least as much as to drill the troops, wouldn’t you say, John?”

Seeing that his little cousin was genuinely distressed, John hastened to reassure her. But after the ladies had departed, he turned, perplexed, to the duke.

“What was that all about? Thought Sarah was still wearing the willow for Allensby, yet here she is acting as if her true love were serving in the guards?”

“I don’t know, but I mean to find out,” the duke replied. “They were invited by a young man she met last year and his friend. Do you remember Lord Alexander Meade?”

John nodded. “Indeed I do, an attractive and personable young man.”

The perplexed duke mused, “I had no idea that anyone had made the least impression on her last year. Perhaps it is the other one. But she could hardly have formed a
tendre
for him in one meeting, could she have?”

“I wish I could relieve your mind and say no, Justin, but I believe I have contrived to do just that for Miss Silverton. Did you see how quickly she comprehended the significance of my political position? And how aware she is of the things going on here in the city? Beauty allied to intelligence. I confess I have always found it an enticing combination, perhaps because so rarely found.”

“I am beginning to think that tumbling head over heels in love at first sight runs in this family’s blood.” Harwood shook his head ruefully. “It is a dangerous business. Check on Lord Alexander Meade for me, will you? And the other one. I forget his name, but you’ll meet him tomorrow.”

“Absolutely.” John stood and stretched, a wistful smile twisting his lips. “I expect that by tomorrow Lady Cornwall will have asked the very same thing about me of whomever she trusts with her affairs.”

***

Deborah had no one to whom she could entrust her affairs but herself. She lay awake long into the night, pondering the events of the day, worrying over the three young men Jennifer had just met. She almost wished Sarah hadn’t spent the night, so that she could have spoken with her daughter about them right away.

She feared that each of the three in his own way was ineligible, and Jennifer must be warned. If only she could find a man like the Duke of Harwood for her daughter!

She curbed her impatience to confer with Jennifer, however. How could she regret Sarah’s visit, when the pert blonde was filling Jenny with practical information about dealing with the
ton.
Also, she was building Jenny’s self-confidence almost every second the two were together. No, she could be private with her daughter tomorrow.

Let the girls giggle together all night, Deborah smiled to herself, remembering the long, long ago days when she had been that carefree.

***

When the duke and his secretary arrived at the Cornwall town house the next day, the footman who answered the door, and the butler who sauntered out to see who had called, both struck him as unkempt and rather surly—that is, until his rank dawned on them when he offered his card.

“Lady Cornwall is expecting us, though we are early.”

“Of course, Your Grace. I’ll announce you, Your Grace. I’m sure she’ll be down right away, Your Grace.” The obsequious butler escorted Harwood and John into a small front parlor overstuffed with furniture. Before he could quite succeed in closing the door on them, though, a shrill bark announced a furry intruder.

“Mittens! Stop!” Jennifer followed hard on the heels of her dog. Sarah, hair tumbled and eyes laughing, was right behind her. Lady Cornwall, looking decidedly embarrassed, brought up the rear.

“Well! What a welcoming committee!” The duke smiled at the little King Charles spaniel who was suspiciously sniffing his boots. He bent over, meaning to bestow a pat on the black-and-white head, but Mittens decided this tall man was a most alarming creature. She sprang back with a low growl and then, front feet down, rear up, began to bark loudly at him.

“Such a ferocious beast,” John observed, laughing.

Lady Cornwall moved past the girls. “Quiet, Mittens. Down!” The little dog instantly dropped to the floor and even dropped her head between her front paws.

“I am astonished! An obedient lapdog. I would have told anyone who asked that the term was an oxymoron.” The duke looked admiringly from Mittens to Deborah and back again.

“I am so embarrassed. She usually doesn’t bark at our guests.”

“It was my fault, looming over her like that.” Showing that he knew something of canine behavior, the duke dropped down onto his haunches and held out his long fingers for the little dog to sniff. Her black button nose wiggled eagerly as she took advantage of this opportunity, and her tail, which had dropped like a sail in a calm sea, came up wagging.

Carefully, the duke slid his hand under her chin and stroked it, then patted her head. Ecstatic, Mittens turned over on her back and, paws waving, offered her tummy for a scratching. The duke obliged her, looking up at the surrounding people as he did so.

“She likes you, sir!” Jennifer’s eyes sparkled.

“Dogs always love my father,” Sarah bragged. “Isn’t she darling, Papa? Lady Cornwall raises them. I want one.”

John laughed. “Now you’re in for it, Justin!”

“Don’t you like dogs, Mr. Warner?” Jennifer turned anxious eyes on the young man.

“Of course not! That’s why he is forever bringing home strays that I must find a place for on the estate! Cats, dogs, parrots, even a monkey have thus found a new home.” The duke stood, and Mittens jumped up, eager for more attention. She quickly dropped back down at Deborah’s command, to prance gaily at the duke’s feet.

“It is true that I am fond of animals of all sorts, Miss Silverton.” It was John’s turn to offer Mittens a petting, which she eagerly accepted. “But the duke has an odd prejudice against keeping them in town.”

“I wouldn’t mind a dog as well behaved as this, but in general, yes, I do feel that animals are a great deal too much trouble in the city. They are also safer and happier in the country.”

Deborah bent down and picked up the little dog. “We left our other three with a servant, but Mittens is Jennifer’s special pet, and she just couldn’t bear to be parted from her.”

“I quite understand.” The duke reached out to stroke the silky fur flowing over Deborah’s arm. This simple caress communicated itself to the woman, too, and had a strange effect on her. She turned wide, startled eyes on him for a moment, then pulled away. “Jennifer, take Mittens to the kitchen now. The duke is obviously ready to go.”

“Yes, I thought we stood a better chance of getting our carriage in a good position to see the review if we arrived early.” He looked the three women over. “You appear to be ready, and a more charming trio cannot be imagined.”

Just as the two girls disappeared out the salon door on the way to deposit Mittens in the kitchen, the knocker sounded. A few seconds later, without even attempting to determine if she was at home to them, the butler showed Lord Morton and his two sons into the room.

“Oh, admirable servant,” the duke muttered.

Lady Cornwall was trapped. Awkward introductions were made all around, after which Morton, with a curt nod, marched past the duke and John, who were still standing, and took a seat in a sturdy armchair. His two sons followed his example. “Where is that pretty daughter, Deborah? As soon as I described her to my boys, nothing would do but they must meet her.”

The last thing Deborah wanted was for her daughter to become involved with one of Morton’s sons, but she could hardly say so. “She and Lady Sarah have gone to take her dog to the kitchen.”

“Not bringing one of those wretched little toy dogs to town, are you, Deborah? Thought Seymour had broken you from such sentimental mush. Only thing a dog is good for is to hunt or herd sheep, or fight other dogs.” Morton frowned. Now Seymour was gone, someone must take his wife in hand.

Fighting down an angry retort, Deborah sat near the duke and looked up at him helplessly. He sat beside her, and John reluctantly took a seat also.

Morton was just warming to his topic, the complete folly of keeping dogs for pets, when the two young girls returned. Deborah most reluctantly introduced them. Both girls were visibly impressed with Morton’s handsome sons, in spite of the warning Deborah had given Jennifer after the ball. They took their seats nearby, exchanging smiles and exhibiting a tendency to giggle.

“Well, now, this is something like. A beauty for each of my boys. I’ve an idea! Why don’t you two take these pretty young things for a drive, eh? Lady Cornwall and I can have a comfortable coze about old times.” Morton gave the duke and John a dismissive look, sure their time for an afternoon call was about up.

“Afraid that won’t be possible. We’ve already bespoken all three ladies. We were on our way out the door when you came in.” Harwood stood and offered his arm to Deborah. John, taking his cue from the duke, offered his arm to the nearer of the two girls, Jennifer. She took the hint immediately; Sarah lingered a little before slowly rising to her feet over the protests of Morton and his two sons.

Embarrassed over the lack of manners this abrupt departure entailed, Deborah was nevertheless more than happy to permit the duke to extricate her from the situation. She was unable to prevent Morton from attempting to arrange for Harvey and Newton to take the girls for a drive the next day. Once again the duke intervened.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Morton, but Sarah is spoken for tomorrow, and if I do not mistake the matter, Miss Silverton is included in the invitation.”

Sarah studied her parent in some surprise, but did not contradict him. Jennifer, now fully aware of her mother’s tension, agreed that their calendar was in fact quite full for, oh, weeks! Deborah gave Lord Morton a sickly smile and watched him, angry and insulted, stalk down the steps, closely followed by the two annoyed young men.

“I hope you do not mind my routing that brute, but for the second time I have gained the definite impression that you do not care for his company.”

Deborah turned grateful eyes on the duke. “Indeed, I do not mind! In fact, I thank you. I did not know how to stop him, yet he is odious and I am sure his sons are no better. Not at all what I would want for my daughter.”

What I want for her is a man like you
, Deborah thought wistfully, looking up appreciatively at the duke. It was almost a pity Harwood and Jennifer were so far apart in age.

Jennifer and Sarah exchanged puzzled glances, but accepted John’s escort, and, one on each arm, moved off down the stairs to the waiting barouche.

“You and I have more in common than marriageable daughters we must safely shepherd through a season.” Encouraged by her warm look, Harwood winked at Deborah as he offered her his arm.