Rendezvous (6 page)

“No,” Harry agreed, thinking of how many times his life and the lives of others had depended on such intelligence.
Unlike his restless friend, he was very glad those days were behind him.

At three o’clock that afternoon, Harry was shown into the library of Sir Thomas Ballinger.

Sir Thomas was still a vigorous man. A lifetime of devotion to the classics had not softened his sturdy, broad-shouldered frame. His once-blond hair was silvered now and quite thin on top. His well-trimmed whiskers were gray. He had on a pair of spectacles which he removed as he glanced up to see his visitor. He beamed at the sight of Harry coming toward him.

“Graystone. Good to see you. Have a seat. I have been meaning to call on you. I have come across a most intriguing translation of a French work on Caesar which I think you will enjoy.”

Harry smiled and took one of the chairs on the other side of the fire. “I am certain I shall find it fascinating. But we shall have to discuss it some other time. I have come upon another sort of errand today, Sir Thomas.”

“Is that so?” Sir Thomas eyed him with indulgent attention as he poured two glasses of brandy. “And what would that be, sir?”

Harry took the brandy and sat back in his chair. He studied his host for a long moment. “You and I, sir, are rather old-fashioned in some respects. Or so I have been told.”

“There is much to be said for the old ways, if you ask me. Here’s to ancient Greeks and amusing Romans.” Sir Thomas raised his glass in a toast.

“To ancient Greeks and amusing Romans.” Harry obediently took a swallow of the brandy and set the glass down. “I have come to ask for Miss Ballinger’s hand in marriage, Sir Thomas.”

Sir Thomas’s thick brows rose. A thoughtful expression
appeared in his eyes. “I see. And does she know you are making this request?”

“No, sir. I have not yet discussed the matter with her. As I said, I am old-fashioned in many respects. I wanted your approval before I proceeded further.”

“But of course, my lord. Quite right. Rest assured I am delighted to grant my approval to the match. Claudia is an intelligent, serious-minded young female, if I do say so myself. Very well mannered. Takes after her mother, you know. Even attempting to write a book, just as my wife did. My wife wrote books designed for young ladies in the schoolroom, you know. Quite successful at it, I’m pleased to say.”

“I am aware of Lady Ballinger’s excellent educational works, Sir Thomas. They are in my own daughter’s schoolroom. However—”

“Yes, I feel certain Claudia will make you an admirable countess and I shall be most gratified to have you in the family.”

“Thank you, Sir Thomas, but it was not Claudia’s hand I intended to request, delightful though your daughter is.”

Sir Thomas stared at him. “Not Claudia, my lord? Surely you don’t mean … you can’t mean—”

“I have every intention of marrying Augusta if she will have me.”

“
Augusta?”
Sir Thomas’s eyes widened. He gulped his brandy and promptly choked on it. His face turned a deep, dark shade of crimson as he coughed and sputtered and flailed about with his hand. He appeared torn between stunned amazement and laughter.

Harry calmly rose from his chair and went over to pound his host between the shoulder blades. “I know what you mean, Sir Thomas. It is a somewhat unnerving notion, is it not? I myself had a similar reaction when I first contemplated it. But now I have grown quite accustomed to the idea.”

“
Augusta?
”

“Yes, Sir Thomas, Augusta. You are going to give me your permission, are you not?”

“Certainly, sir,” Sir Thomas said immediately. “God knows she won’t get a better offer, not at her age.”

“Precisely,” Harry agreed. “Now, then, it occurs to me that as we are dealing with Augusta rather than Claudia, we must assume her response to an offer of marriage might be somewhat, shall we say, unpredictable.”

“Damned unpredictable.” Sir Thomas looked glum. “Unpredictability runs in the Northumberland side of the family, Graystone. Most unfortunate trait, but there you have it.”

“I understand. Given that lamentable characteristic, perhaps it would be more efficient if we simply made this entire event a fait accompli for Augusta. It might be easier on her if we take the decision out of her hands, if you see what I mean.”

Sir Thomas gave Harry a shrewd glance from beneath his thick brows. “Are you by any chance suggesting I fire the notices off to the papers before you ask my niece for her hand?”

Harry nodded. “As I said, Sir Thomas. It will be more efficient if Augusta is not called upon to actually make a decision.”

“Bloody clever,” said Sir Thomas, clearly awed. “Brilliant notion, Graystone. Absolutely brilliant.”

“Thank you. But I have a hunch this is only the beginning, Sir Thomas. Something tells me that staying one step ahead of Augusta is going to take a great deal of cleverness and an even greater amount of fortitude.”

“Y
ou
sent the notices off to the papers? Uncle Thomas, I do not believe it. This is a disaster. “Tis obvious a terrible mistake has been made.”

Still reeling from the stunning blow of her uncle’s offhanded announcement that he had accepted an offer of marriage on her behalf, Augusta paced the library. She was ablaze with a furious energy and she scowled fiercely as she tried to think her way clear of the dreadful situation.

She had just come in from an afternoon ride in the park and was still wearing a dashing new ruby-colored riding habit trimmed in gold braid
à la militaire
. The matching confection of a hat with its perky red feather was still perched on her hair and she was still wearing her gray leather boots. A servant had told her that Sir Thomas had a message for her and she had breezed straight into the library.

Only to be met with the shock of her life
.

“How could you have done such a thing, Uncle Thomas? How could you have made such a mistake?”

“Don’t think there was any mistake,” Sir Thomas said vaguely. Having delivered his announcement from his armchair, he had immediately plunged back into the book he had been reading before Augusta had arrived. “Graystone appeared to know exactly what he was doing.”

“But there must have been a mistake. Graystone would never offer for me.” Augusta pondered the problem furiously as she paced back and forth. “Tis obvious what happened. He offered for Claudia and you misunderstood.”

“Don’t believe so.” Sir Thomas buried himself deeper in his book.

“Come, now, Uncle Thomas. You know you get quite absentminded on occasion. You have frequently confused Claudia’s name with mine, especially when you are working on one of your books, as you are now.”

“What do you expect? You were both named after Roman emperors,” Sir Thomas said by way of excuse. “Bound to be the occasional mistake.”

Augusta groaned. She knew her uncle. When he was concentrating on old Greeks and Romans it was impossible to get his full attention. He had no doubt been just as preoccupied earlier when Graystone had called. No wonder matters had gotten confused. “I cannot believe you have done something that will affect my future so drastically without even consulting me.”

“He’ll make you a sound husband, Augusta.”

“I do not want a
sound
husband. I do not particularly want any sort of husband at all, least of all a
sound
one. What the devil does that mean, anyway?
Sound
. A horse is
sound
.”

“The thing is, my girl, you are not likely to get a better offer.”

“Very likely not. But don’t you see, Uncle Thomas, the offer was not for me. I am quite certain of it.” Augusta whirled about, the ruby skirts of her habit pooling around her boots. “Oh, Uncle Thomas, I do not mean to be short with you. Heaven knows you have been all that is kind and
generous to me and I shall be forever grateful, you must know that.”

“Just as I am grateful to you, my dear, for all you have done for Claudia this Season. You have brought her out of her shell and turned her from a shy little mouse into a sensation. Her mother would have been proud.”

“Twas nothing, Uncle Thomas. Claudia is a beautiful, accomplished woman. She merely needed advice on her clothes and on the proper ways of conducting herself in Society.”

“All of which you could provide.”

Augusta shrugged. “A legacy from my mother. She entertained frequently and taught me much. I have also had the assistance of Lady Arbuthnott, who knows everyone. So you must not hand me all the credit. I am well aware you gave me the task of launching Claudia as a remedy for my melancholy. And it was kind of you. Truly it was.”

Sir Thomas grunted in surprise. “As I recall, I merely asked you to accompany Claudia to a soiree one evening. You took charge from there. You made her one of your projects. And whenever you are involved in a project, my dear, things have a way of happening.”

“Thank you, Uncle Thomas. But about Graystone. I must insist—”

“Now, don’t you worry about Graystone. As I said, he’ll make you a sound husband. Man’s solid as a rock. Got brains and a fortune. What more could a woman want?”

“Uncle Thomas, you don’t understand.”

“You’re just feeling a bit emotional at the moment, that’s all. The Northumberland side of the family always was emotional.”

Augusta stared at her uncle in seething frustration and then she rushed from the room before she burst into tears.

Augusta was still simmering with frustration later that evening as she dressed for the night’s array of soirees and
parties. But at least she was no longer on the point of tears, she told herself with pride. This was a crisis that called for action, not emotion.

Claudia studied Augusta’s scowl with gentle concern. Then, with a naturally graceful gesture, she poured two cups of tea and offered one to her cousin with a soothing smile. “Calm yourself, Augusta. All will be well.”

“How the devil can all be well when such a dreadful mistake has been made? Dear God, Claudia, don’t you understand? Disaster is upon us. Uncle Thomas got so excited he went ahead and sent the notices off to the papers. By tomorrow morning Graystone and I shall be officially engaged. There will be no honorable way for him to get out of the arrangement once the news is in print.”

“I understand.”

“Then how can you sit there pouring tea as if nothing has happened?” Augusta slammed her cup and saucer down and shot to her feet. She whirled about and began striding back and forth across the width of her bedchamber. Her dark brows were drawn together above her narrowed eyes.

For once Augusta was hardly aware of what she was wearing. Her mind had been in such turmoil that she had been unable to concentrate on the usually pleasant task of choosing her attire. Her maid Betsy had selected the rose-colored evening gown with its daringly cut neckline edged with tiny satin roses. It was Betsy who had chosen the matching satin slippers and elbow-length gloves. And it was Betsy who had decided to dress Augusta’s dark chestnut brown hair in the Grecian style. The cascading ringlets bobbed about wildly as Augusta stalked back and forth.

“I fail to see the problem,” Claudia murmured. “I had the impression you were growing rather fond of Graystone.”

“That is simply not true.”

“Come, now, Augusta. Even Papa noticed your interest in the earl and remarked upon it just the other day.”

“I asked to read a copy of one of Graystone’s recent treatises on some moldering old Roman, that’s all. You can hardly call that a sign of deep fondness.”

“Well, be that as it may, I am not surprised Papa went ahead and accepted Graystone’s offer on your behalf. He assumed you would be delighted, as indeed you should be. It is a wonderful match, Augusta. You cannot deny it.”

Augusta stopped pacing long enough to give her cousin an anguished glance. “But don’t you see, Claudia? Tis all a
mistake
. Graystone would never have asked for my hand in marriage. Never in a million years. He thinks me a terrible hoyden, an unruly scapegrace who is always one step away from falling into a scandal broth. To him I am an ungovernable little baggage. In his eyes I would make a most unsuitable countess. And he is quite right.”

“Nonsense. You would make a lovely countess,” Claudia said loyally.

“Thank you.” Augusta groaned in frustrated annoyance. “But you are quite wrong. Graystone has already been married to a most suitable female, from what I have heard, and I have no desire to try to live up to my predecessor’s standards.”

“Oh, yes. He was married to Catherine Montrose, was he not? I seem to recall Mother talking about her. Mrs. Montrose was a great believer in the value of Mother’s books for young ladies. She raised Catherine on them, I believe. And Mother always claimed Catherine Montrose was a fine example of the efficacy of her instructional techniques.”

“What a jolly notion.” Augusta went to the window and stood gazing forlornly down into the gardens behind the town house. “Graystone and I have absolutely nothing in common. We are violently opposed on all the modern questions. He does not care for free-thinking females, you know. He has made that quite clear. And he does not even know the half of it. He would no doubt have a fit of the vapors if he realized some of the things I have done.”