Authors: Amanda Scott
She gave a little shiver. “Is that why you have invited the de Lievens, the Regent, and Lord Bathurst to Hawkstone?”
“Not entirely. The Regent, as you know, has a talent for inviting himself. I had no expectation of entertaining him when I arranged this little party. Bathurst and I had hoped to clear matters up before Prinny left London, simply because the more messages there are to be carried, the more difficult it will be to plug the leak, but he has interested himself in this matter from the outset. So when he discovered our plan and insisted upon being present, we could not be surprised. Indeed, his presence here will actually lend more credence to the rumors we have been so carefully spreading.”
“What rumors?”
But that he refused to tell her, further recommending that she keep a still tongue between her teeth when their guests arrived. “I cannot emphasize strongly enough, sweetheart, how dangerous it would be for you to hint at any knowledge of this affair.”
“Very well, sir, but I hope you realize that I may have difficulty with Prince Nicolai. I was not prevaricating the night I told you he had forced his attentions upon me. I might have behaved in such a fashion before that as to lead him to believe I would not be averse to receiving such attentions from him. But even if you were right about that part of it, I can still assure you it was never my intention, and I did nothing that night to invite his attentions.”
To her surprise Hawk chuckled. “Such exhaustive periods are not necessary to convince me, sweetheart. I have come to believe, regardless of the words I spouted at you out of my jealousy, that you were unaware that you were flirting with him. Well,” he amended, “maybe not that, precisely. But I do believe you had no expectation that your smiles and sallies would bring him so quickly to worship at your feet.”
“Worship at my feet! Believe me, sir, he had more than worship in mind.”
“I do not doubt it. At the risk of repeating myself, I can only say that he had your reputation to encourage him. No, don’t poker up, sweetheart,” Hawk said. “You still deserve to hear a few choice words on that subject. The only reason you have not heard many is that I, too, have had much to answer for. Moreover, from what I have been able to observe, you have not gone much beyond the line since my return.”
The conversation was taking a turn Mollie had not anticipated, not to mention one she wished with all her heart to avoid. Since she knew she could not successfully press for further details about his plans, she did the only thing she could think of to stem the lecture she feared might be budding. He still had his hands on her shoulders, so she leaned heavily against them, tilting her face up to his.
“Kiss me, sir,” she said.
He chuckled. “Would you disarm me, madam?”
“Yes, sir, if it can be done.”
“It can be done, sweetheart,” he assured her, “by the lifting of your smallest finger.” Within moments it became clear to her that Hawk had forgotten his weariness entirely, and it was much later before she was allowed to sleep.
The following day was a busy one, during which, what with last-minute preparations for all their guests, she and Lady Bridget seemed not to have a minute to call their own. But late in the afternoon Mollie managed to escape long enough to don her breeches and waistcoat and ride to the south meadow for an hour’s practice with her bow and arrows. To her delight she discovered that the archery butt had been recovered in her absence with brand-new, freshly painted canvas. And to her great satisfaction, the only holes in the new fabric when she left the meadow were to be found in the two inner rings of color.
As she rode her horse along the rear causeway, she had a sudden sense of
déjà vu,
for there were horsemen approaching the main entrance of the castle along the other causeway. For a crazy moment, she half-expected to see the Hawkstone banner waving above them, but then she saw that there were only three riders. The rest of the party consisted of a coach with a crest upon its door. The distance, however, was too great for her to be able to make out whose it might be. A moment later, however, a face appeared in the coach window, and Mollie instantly recognized her sister-in-law. The sight caused her to give spur to her mount, and seconds later she clattered through the postern gate into the stableyard.
Her first inclination was to ride straight through to the central courtyard to greet the visitors, but while Lady Gwendolyn would probably not be much shocked by her appearance, Mollie knew perfectly well that the more conservative Worthing would be astounded. And she was nearly as certain that Hawk would not approve of showing herself to his brother-in-law in such garb as she was presently wearing. Lady Bridget, too, would be discomposed if Worthing or the two gentlemen with him, whoever they might be, were to express disapproval to her on the subject. Consequently, Mollie slipped quickly from the saddle, tossed her reins to the waiting Teddy, and hurried into the castle through the rear hall. Taking the stairs two by two, she soon came to the upper landing and was hastening across the worn stone floor when her husband emerged from her own bedchamber.
Hawk grinned at her. “Where are you headed in such haste, my lady? Hoping to avoid a lecture from Aunt Biddy?”
“No, sir, but Lord and Lady Worthing have arrived, and I want to greet them properly and thought I’d best change my clothes before doing so.”
He shook his head, laughing, and caught her up in his arms. “Sometimes I think there are two people inhabiting that beautiful body of yours, sweetheart. One is a child constantly on the lookout for adventure, and the other is an elegant lady, at home to a peg in the finest drawing rooms.” He set her on her feet again and turned her toward her bedchamber.
Knowing from previous experience what to expect, she skipped hastily forward, thus neatly avoiding a smack on the backside. Tossing him a saucy grin, she pushed open the door and stepped across the threshold.
Hawk laughed again. “Make haste, sweetheart. I shall endeavor to entertain our guests until your arrival. By the bye, did they chance to see you?”
“Yes, no doubt they did as I rode along the postern causeway. However, they will not have recognized me,” she added confidently.
“And just how are you so certain of that fact, I wonder?” His eyes narrowed with an arrested look, and profoundly discomposed by that penetrating gaze, Mollie flushed deeply and hastily shut the door behind her. For a moment she waited just inside the door, lest he be tempted to come after her, to pursue that dangerous topic. But though there was a moment’s nerve-racking silence, she heard his footsteps at last, moving away toward the main staircase.
Expelling a breath of relief, she rang the bell for Mathilde du Bois. By the time the dresser made her appearance, Mollie’s male attire had been safely stowed away, and she was dressed in a chemise, sitting upon the dressing chair, pulling stockings on over her slim legs.
“Mathilde, I must prepare for company,” she declared. “Quickly.”
Within a few short moments, Mathilde du Bois had slipped a becoming afternoon gown of emerald-green sarcenet, trimmed with gilt lace at the neck and hem, over her head. Clicking her tongue in disapproval, the haughty tirewoman reluctantly agreed to keep her mistress’s hairstyle simple, merely neatening the twisted plaits of golden-brown hair and arranging them in a sort of crown at the top of Mollie’s dainty head. Not twenty minutes had passed since she had left Hawk standing in the corridor, before she made her way down the main staircase to greet her guests. As the gentlemen rose to their feet, she was somewhat dismayed to see her husband remove his watch from his pocket and cast a glance first at it and then at herself. He said nothing, however, merely flicking the case shut again and returning it to his pocket. Mollie hurried forward to greet Lord and Lady Worthing.
“Gwen, we did not expect you until tomorrow! What a wonderful surprise!”
“Well, we hoped it would be a surprise,” Lady Gwendolyn said, laughing. “At least, we knew we would surprise you, and
hoped
the surprise would be a pleasant one. Fact is, there was simply no more bearing that dreadful heat, and when Jamie and Breck”—she indicated the two gentlemen—“decided to accompany us…well, that was enough inspiration, believe me. I tell you, Mollie, London fairly reeks in summer. ’Tis the most dreadful thing. One would think the sewers still ran with filth as they did in olden days.”
“In some parts of the city, they still do,” her spouse informed her gravely.
“Oh, to be sure, but not in Mayfair, sir. There is no explaining it. But I was constantly having the headache, and in my condition, you know, there was simply nothing else to be done. I longed for the cool of Hawkstone Towers, and I was persuaded you would not mind, though we did say we would arrive Wednesday. So, dearest Worthing packed us all up and we are here.”
Mollie had fastened upon only one phrase of the speedy monologue. She stared wide-eyed at her grinning sister-in-law. “In your condition! Do not tell us, Gwen, that you are increasing again. You’ve only just escaped confinement.”
“Oh, that was months ago, Mollie. And this time will not be bad at all, you know, for I expect to be confined in January, and there is nothing else of interest to do then, anyway. And by the time next Season begins, I shall be entirely recovered and Baby can be given over to Nanny.”
Conscious of a small pang of envy, Mollie extended her congratulations to the couple, and the conversation turned to other matters. She was glad to see both Lord Breckin and Sir James, for they were always welcome visitors, and it was a cheerful group that sat down to dinner that night. Unsurprisingly, a certain amount of gossip had accrued even in the short time of their absence from the metropolis, and it was with amusement that Mollie learned that Lord Alvanley was no longer being pursued by Madame de Staël’s prim daughter.
“Seems the lady discovered Alvanley’s penchant for living beyond his means,” Sir James informed the table at large with an ironic laugh.
“Oddly enough,” put in Lord Breckin, flicking a crumb from his elegant sleeve, “that was the thing that served best to lend credence to Brummell’s insistence that Alvanley was worth a hundred thousand a year. The man certainly lives up to that reputation.”
“To his creditors’ sorrow,” Hawk said, grinning.
“Well, at least their luck seems to be holding,” Lady Gwendolyn observed. “I’ve heard of nothing but their incredible winnings for a week or more now.”
Lady Bridget said gently, “Those gentlemen would be well advised to put something by for less prosperous times, would they not?”
“Indeed, ma’am,” Worthing agreed ponderously, “but I daresay they will not do so. None of the dandy set is particularly noted for his good sense.”
“Unfair, Worthing,” Breckin said, shaking his head. “I have it on excellent authority that Brummell has shown reasonable good sense on at least three occasions, though I confess I cannot call an example to mind on such short notice.”
The others laughed at this sally, and Lord Ramsay requested further information regarding Albertine de Staël. Sir James regarded him with a jaundiced eye.
“Not thinking of making a move in that direction, I hope, dear boy. ’Fraid you won’t cut a big-enough dash to suit her mama, don’t you know. ’Course, if Hawk here should slip his wind, you’d make a prime target for the woman. Can’t deny that.”
“Well, I should say not!” Ramsay retorted, rising to the bait easily. “I merely wondered if she had taken an interest in anyone else, that’s all. I pity the poor girl, with a mother like that pushing her into matrimony at so tender an age. She is only sixteen, you know. Oughtn’t to have been brought out until next year in my opinion.”
“Too true,” agreed Breckin. “Such a dab of a creature, too. Not even beauty to recommend her, you know, and always the lurking horror that she might age to look like her mother. Not a pleasant prospect. However, since you take an interest, you will be glad to know that there is a wealthy émigré in the wings, a duke at that, albeit a Frenchie without much claim to the family properties.”
“Like Prince Nicolai,” observed Mollie, not really thinking about what she was saying. “It is such a shame that those families lost so much merely by standing up for what they believed. I’m grateful that such things do not happen in England.”
“If you read your history,” Worthing told her, “you must know about the injustices of the Cromwell period, when many families lost their property. And later the Jacobites suffered too, you know.”
He would have continued in this pedantic vein had not Hawk interrupted him. Mollie had already noticed that her words had arrested the attention of every gentleman at the table one way or another. Her husband spoke with exaggerated gentleness.
“My lady, what did you mean by your comparison of that Russian prince to Breckin’s French duke? I was unaware that the Stefanoviches had lost any property to the czar.”
“Not my duke,” Breckin corrected. “Belongs to young Libertine, or will do, if her mama’s plans don’t go amiss.”
No one paid him any heed, however, for the others were all staring at Mollie, who was regarding her husband searchingly. “’Tis not property in Russia, sir, but in France. Madame de Staël told me that evening she came to supper. The evening of the harpist, sir,” she added to clarify matters.
“I remember the evening,” he said with a hint of a smile, “but I do not remember the comment.”
“You were not there,” she explained. “’Twas before the gentlemen had finished their port. They were an unconscionable time over it, if you recall.” Her eyes twinkled, daring him to remember.
“Mmmm,” was all he said to that. Then, “But what did she say exactly, Mollie?”
“Well…” Mollie searched her brain for Madame de Staël’s precise words. “I do not recall everything she said, you know. But it was something about Nicolai’s mother being French. She said it didn’t matter much, though it might affect his diplomatic career. I couldn’t understand how that could be, however, for she said his mother was dead and the family lands had all been confiscated by the Empire, so he can have no connections there now.”