Let Me Be The One (5 page)

"I am not offended by your interest," she said coolly. "Merely made suspicious by it. I am politely referred to as 'firmly on the shelf' since I marked my twenty-sixth year in April. I am regarded as a bluestocking because I continued to read and show an aptitude for studies after I left the schoolroom. While it is well known that a handsome settlement will accompany me into marriage, it is also well known that I have no wish to turn over the handling of my fortune. It has not escaped your notice that I am ungainly—some would say crippled. I am not the sort of companion one chooses for life, but rather for rounding out the numbers at a dinner party. And finally, if all of that were not enough to dissuade would-be suitors, my father is the Earl of Rosemont, a difficult and contentious individual in the best of circumstances. It stretches my imagination to think of the man who would embrace him as a father-in-law."

Northam said nothing for a moment. He regarded her set face, the challenge in the almond-shaped eyes. He noticed that they were almost the same color as her hair, and like her hair, they were flecked with gold. "Indeed," he said dryly. "Then I count myself as much relieved that my interest in you is not in the nature of leg-shackling. I do not believe I would want the most disagreeable Earl of Rosemont as a member of the family."

Some gremlin thought prompted Elizabeth to point out, "He certainly would not want you."

Northam took no offense; rather he was amused. "It is just as well."

"Nor would I," she added firmly.

His amusement deepened, but he was careful not to reveal it. He was also more than a little intrigued. It was clear to him that when Elizabeth Penrose mistook his interest and attention as an overture to pursuit, she was not flattered by it. Panicked was the word that came to mind. "Then we are agreed. We would not suit."

"No, indeed."

"It is good, then, that the colonel had no expectations in that regard. I am not of a mind to disappoint him."

"The colonel?" Elizabeth felt her breath catch. "You know Blackwood?"

"I do. He was my commander in India."

"How is he?" she asked softly.

"Well. He inquires the same about you."

Suddenly Elizabeth understood. "He asked you to look after me."

"Something like that. He has not heard from you for months. It is my understanding this is unusual."

"I have been remiss in my correspondence."

"No doubt you have little time for you own. Attending to the baroness's affairs must occupy your energies."

Elizabeth did not think she mistook the note of censure in his tone. "What is your relationship to Blackwood?"

"As I said, he was my commander in India."

"That is a connection. Not a relationship." There was some relationship, she thought, that would lead Northam to believe he had the privilege of taking her to task.

"You have never served under him. In the military it is possible for one to be very much like the other. When the colonel leads, others are inspired to follow. I was merely one of many. And when he asks a favor of me, even in his retirement, it does not occur to refuse."

Elizabeth nodded. She understood perfectly the loyalty and admiration the colonel inspired. Before the wasting illness that left him without the use of his legs, Blackwood stood firm for a promotion that would have put him squarely in Wellington's boots. It might have been Blackwood in command at Waterloo. When Elizabeth had pointed this out to the colonel, he laughed without any tinge of regret "
God forbid, m'girl,"
he had said.
"Boney might have got the best of me, and then where would we be? Speaking French, I tell you. That would be the way of it, and not at all to the king's liking. Wellington's brilliant. Always was."

"Colonel Blackwood is my mother's cousin," said Elizabeth. "After she died he fancied himself my guardian. That did not endear him to my father, who found the colonel's inquiries interfering. It was just as well he was often abroad. Had he served here, I probably would have been forbidden to visit him. As it turned out, I was able to write him steadily over the years. I believe the colonel watched me grow up through my letters."

"Then you are close."

"Yes, I like to think we are." Elizabeth's fine features did not so much soften as ease. "I will write to him this very evening and allay his concerns. It is something of a surprise that he has not commanded me to appear."

"He entertained it. He thought you might refuse."

"And it would never do to mutiny in front of one of his soldiers. That's what you are, is it not? One of his soldiers."

"I believe I said as much. It makes little difference that I no longer wear a uniform. Neither does he."

Elizabeth looked down at her hands. They were folded quietly in her lap, yet she knew if she unclasped them the finest of tremors would be running through her fingers. "What precisely is the nature of your assignment?" she asked calmly. "You've been quite clear that it does not involve leg-shackling."

Northam listened for any note of disappointment in her tone and heard none. His impression remained that she was relieved. He decided to press her a bit."I am not considered a bad catch, you know. Mothers parade their daughters in front of me. At Almack's I am often called upon to partner young girls who are taking their first waltz."

"Now
that
is high praise indeed."

He went on as if she had not commented. "I am thought to be not without some qualities to recommend me. I have been told I have a modestly handsome face. I have my wits about me. On occasion I have been known to use them." Northam saw that while Lady Elizabeth appeared to be studying the pattern of violets in her dress, she was also tamping down a smile. "I am a steady friend. I attend church more Sundays than I fish. I make wagers as the mood strikes me, but I have never gambled what I could not afford to lose. I am passionate about horses and Mrs. Wedge's roast beef. There is little else that raises my blood. I drink in moderation and I speak tolerably well of others."

"You, sir, are a paragon, and I find myself regretting the colonel did not fancy himself a matchmaker." She glanced at him and made no effort to hide the laughter in her eyes. "Does that satisfy your wounded sensibilities?"

"It certainly helps. Thank you."

"Who is Mrs. Wedge?"

"The cook at Hampton Cross. She's been in residence since there
was
a Hampton Cross." He saw Elizabeth's skeptical look. He held up his right hand, palm out. "It is only a slight exaggeration, I swear it. She was easily a hundred years old when I was boy. It is of constant amazement to me that she does not age at all, while I continue to grow older."

A strand of hair loosed itself from the ribbon wound through Elizabeth's curls. She tucked it behind her ear only to have it fall forward again. It tickled her as the breeze buffeted it against her cheek. "Every home must have one Mrs. Wedge," she said. "At Rosemont we have Mrs. Gatchel. I cannot say that her roast beef is in any way remarkable, but I have never tasted a steak-and-kidney pie that compares."

Northam's eyes were fixed on the hair fluttering at Elizabeth's cheek. "I do not think I can summon any sort of passion for steak-and-kidney pie."

Elizabeth brushed at the strand again, this time a bit self-consciously. "I see your point." From somewhere behind her there was a shriek of laughter. Elizabeth turned to look back on the guests. Lord Allen was gesticulating wildly to a group of avid onlookers. She faintly could hear them calling out to him. "They're playing charades," she said. "Perhaps you would care to join them?"

"No," Northam said firmly. "I would not."

"It appears your friends are going to enter the game."

"That does not entice me in the least." He drew in a breath, bracing himself, and gallantly posed the question. "Would you prefer to play?"

She laughed. He was so obviously hoping for a negative response. "No. I'm not very good at the pantomime."

"Neither am I."

Elizabeth could not resist goading him a bit."But I rather enjoy watching."

"Very well," he said somewhat stiffly. "I will escort you back."

"Have a care, my lord. If you give into this whim, where will it end? Next you will be putting on your frock coat because I insist." In fact, he was already picking it up. "Please, do not trouble yourself. We can watch from here. It's better, I believe. As long as the players do not completely obscure our view we can make our own guesses and be right every time. Look! Lord Allen is hopping mad."

"A hop toad is more like it."

Whatever the robust Lord Allen was trying to communicate to the other players was finally identified, and the baroness herself commanded center stage. Louise Edmunds, the Honorable Lady Battenburn, favored the group with her wide, engaging smile. She was an attractive woman just shy of her fortieth year. Her figure erred on the side of plumpness, but somehow she made it seem earthy and voluptuous. She removed her flowered bonnet and handed it to Lord Southerton.

Under his breath Northam said, "She will be fortunate if South doesn't clamp that bouquet on his head and call himself a garden."

"He is being quite considerate of it. Look how gingerly he has it tucked under his arm." Her attention went back to Lady Battenburn. "But what is her ladyship doing?"

The baroness was threading her fingers through her hair and making the russet curls stand out wildly.

"She has certainly entered into the spirit of the game," Northam said.

"She looks positively mad like that." Elizabeth bit her lower lip as Louise flung her arms out to the side and began to spin in a tight circle. Her cambric dress puffed out like a balloon as she continued to twirl. "Why, I believe she is a dervish."

"Or a whirligig," Northam offered dryly.

"Or she has taken complete leave of her senses."

"In which case she may be Mad George himself."

Elizabeth's mouth flattened and she gave him a quelling look. "Her ladyship would not make light of the king's regrettable condition."

"I beg your pardon."

It occurred to Elizabeth that Northam should beg Louise's pardon, but she knew she would not repeat his comment. She considered further defense of their hostess and decided nothing was served by belaboring the point. Elizabeth turned her back on the festivities when Louise gave up her turn to Lord Southerton. He entered into the game wearing her hat, and the wry look that Northam cast in Elizabeth's direction was the perfect I-told-you-so.

"What will you tell the colonel about me?" she asked.

Northam was not caught off guard by the change in subject. He had been expecting it. To his way of thinking, her attention to the guests had been a diversion. She hoped to catch him out at something, as if she expected his purpose to be something other than what he had already related.

"I intend to tell him the truth," he said. "That you are well and appear to be enjoying yourself at Battenburn. I shall inform him that while he would not entirely approve of this company, you are able to hold your own. I doubt that a fortnight spent here at Battenburn will add anything of merit, but I am honor bound to try." He paused a beat. "Oh, and I may mention that in spite of the lessons he paid for, you have no talent for watercolors."

Chapter 2

"He told me I had no talent for watercolors." Elizabeth's feet were propped on an upholstered stool in her hostess's bedchamber. The crewelwork under her heels was a repeating pattern of tiny pink roses and mint green leaves. The wing chair where she sat in front of the empty fireplace almost swallowed her whole. The windows had been thrown open to permit the air to circulate on this warm evening, and the ivory damask bed curtains rippled at the head of the four-poster when caught by the breeze.

The baroness poked her head out from behind a silk dressing screen. "But you
have
no talent for watercolors," she said. "You've said so yourself, and I believe Harrison has remarked upon that very thing a time or two. Harrison, of course, has no artistic sense and you should never give any weight to his opinion in the matters of painting, theater, or poetry." Louise's head and the slope of one white shoulder disappeared behind the screen again. Her maid helped her shimmy into her nightgown. "However did you respond to Northam's observation?"

This was the part that Elizabeth was still mulling over. "I laughed."