The Player (Rockliffe Book 3) (6 page)

‘Perhaps.
 
I’m not sure.
 
Lady Brassington
deals with all our invitations.’

‘Of course.
 
Have you ever attended a masked ball?’

‘No.’
They
don’t tend to have them in Halifax
.
 
‘Never.’

‘Then you shouldn’t miss this one.
 
You will enjoy it immensely, I’m sure.
 
And I,’ he exerted just a hint of extra
pressure on her fingers as the music ended, ‘will not enjoy it at
all
if you aren’t present.’
 
Which, he reflected grimly as he returned her
to Lily Brassington’s side, had the merit of being absolutely true.

Lady Brassington watched his lordship saunter
elegantly away, then looked searchingly at her charge.
 
She murmured, ‘Handsome is as handsome does,
my dear.
 
I’d remember that, if I were
you.’

A little later, Caroline found herself marooned
beside two young ladies she’d never met before, with no idea what to say to
them. She smiled tentatively at Mistresses Delahaye and Garfield and wondered if
she was correct in detecting a note of friction.

‘Maitland?
 
I’ve heard about you,’ said the shrew-faced girl in pink. ‘You’re the
new heiress.’

The other girl rolled her eyes and said, ‘I
wouldn’t put it like that if I were you, Cecy.
 
If she’s the
new
heiress –
what does that make you?’

Mistress Garfield shot her a venomous glance and
returned her attention to Caroline.

‘That’s a perfectly awful dress. What on earth
made you choose it?’

The blatant rudeness was sufficient to unlock
Caroline’s jaws and, without stopping to think, she said, ‘Probably the same
error of judgement that made you choose yours.’

Unexpectedly, Mistress Delahaye laughed.

‘You asked for that, Cecy – and it’s quite
true.
 
Pink doesn’t suit you and all
those ruffles and ribbons and roses are positively vulgar.’
 
Then, smiling at Caroline, ‘Don’t mind
Cecily.
 
She’s like that with everyone.
 
I’m Cassie, by the way. And you?’

‘Caroline.’

‘Goodness.
 
We’re all C’s. How odd.’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake,’ snapped Cecily.
 
She sent a searching glance around the room
and added crossly, ‘This is a waste of time.
 
I’ve only danced three times all evening and there’s nobody here now
worth dancing
with
.’

‘What she means,’ confided Cassie, ‘is that Nicholas
Wynstanton isn’t here.’

Cecily came sharply to her feet in a cascade of
pink frills.

‘That is completely untrue,’ she snapped.
 
And, turning on her heel, marched off in
search of fresh prey.

‘Thank goodness,’ murmured Cassie.
 
‘As you’ve seen, she’s positively
rag-mannered.
 
If it wasn’t for her
money, I doubt she’d still be invited anywhere.’

Caroline stared down at her lap and said nothing.

‘Oh – I’m so sorry!’ Flushing with mortification,
Cassie reached out and took her hand. ‘I didn’t mean that to sound as if … as
if --’

‘It’s all right.
 
I know you didn’t.
 
And I’m aware
that I’m only here for the same reason as Mistress Garfield.’

‘But with much,
much
better manners.’

‘Not so very much after what I said to her.’

‘She deserved that – and it was such a neat
put-down that I very nearly applauded.’
 
Cassie paused, and then added delicately, ‘You haven’t been in Town very
long, have you?’

‘A few weeks, only.’
 
It just
feels a lot longer
.
 
‘And you?’

‘Oh – this is my second Season,’ came the cheerful
reply. ‘Since most of the gentlemen I like treat me as if I were their sister
and the rest don’t meet Mama’s standards, I’m likely to get a third one as
well. Not that I mind, particularly.
 
In
fact, I rather like it.’
 
She paused and
then added delicately, ‘I saw you dancing with Mr Sterne and Lord Sheringham,
did I not?’

‘Yes – and will be aware why they asked me.’
 
Caroline also hesitated and then decided to
grasp what might be her only opportunity.
 
‘Would you tell me something?
 
Truthfully?’

‘If I can.’

‘I know neither gentleman has any money.
 
What I
don’t
know is
why
they haven’t – and all I
hear from Lady Brassington are hints that don’t really tell me anything except
that she favours Mr Sterne.’

Cassie’s brow wrinkled thoughtfully.

‘Well, she would do, of course.
 
She’s his aunt or cousin or something.
 
As for money … I’m not sure Mr Sterne ever
had much.
 
I don’t think he inherited a
great deal … and my Papa says he’s a gamester.’

‘I see. And his lordship?’

‘Another of the same, I’m afraid – and equally deep
in debt, if the rumours are true. The only difference is that rumour
also
says that, ten years ago, Lord
Sheringham was a rich man.’

‘You mean he’s squandered a fortune at cards and
dice?’

‘Some of it, certainly.’
 
Cassie cast around for something encouraging
to say. ‘I don’t know either gentleman well, of course.
 
But Mr Sterne is always pleasant and one
can’t deny that his lordship is very good-looking.’

‘No.’
Handsome
is as handsome does
.
 
‘No.
 
One can’t.’

Though she’d hoped it might be otherwise, it came
as no particular surprise to Caroline that both of her would-be suitors were
addicted to gaming.
 
More troubling was
the knowledge that Lord Sheringham had already gone through one fortune and
could just as easily go through another.
 
She didn’t think Grandpa Maitland would approve of his money being
wasted over the card-table.
 
She wasn’t
sure she approved of it herself.
 
And when
she took a moment to consider just how long Grandpa’s hundred thousand pounds
might be expected to last, she had the unpleasant feeling that it might not be
very long at all.

Caroline had thought that she could do worse than
Marcus Sheringham.
 
Now she wasn’t so
sure. But persuading Mama that Lavinia and Sylvia could make perfectly
satisfactory marriages without Caroline wedding a title was going to be
virtually impossible.

*
 
*
 
*

At Sinclair’s, meanwhile, Adrian and Lord Nicholas
had enjoyed an extremely good dinner along with a couple of bottles of equally
good claret.
 
Then, despite Adrian’s
attempts to avoid it, they had settled down to play piquet and, within half an
hour, the concentration it took
not
to count cards had made his head hurt.
 

At one point, Aristide had wandered in to watch
the play for a few minutes – presumably in order to check that Adrian wasn’t
using his peculiar skill – and then, apparently satisfied, said, ‘The main
floor is busy tonight and there are any number of gentlemen down there who may
know you.
 
So if you’re still intent on
not being recognised, I suggest you leave by the back way.’

Glad of the interruption and
 
feeling that even invading a stranger’s house
uninvited was preferable to another hour of mental torture, Adrian threw down
his cards and said, ‘Come on, Nick.
 
For
God’s sake, let’s go and get this over with.’

Nicholas glanced at the clock.

‘It’s only a little after eleven.
 
Still early, really.’

‘It’s late enough.’

With a good-humoured shrug, Lord Nicholas
surrendered what he hoped was another winning hand and said, ‘All right.
 
But since I’m only going to this damned party
on your account, I’ll demand we finish the game at some other time.’

‘If we must.’

Aristide laughed and said, ‘Dear me.
 
Are you turning into a poor loser?’

‘No.
 
But I’m
glad,’ said Adrian between his teeth, ‘that I’m providing you with some
amusement.’
 
Then, before Nicholas could
ask what he meant, he snatched up his hat and cloak and headed for the door.

They were admitted to Viscount Linton’s house in
Clarges Street by a singularly incurious butler.
 
Lord Nicholas led the way through the rooms,
sometimes pausing to acknowledge various acquaintances and sometimes to
introduce his companion.
 
Adrian, who had
braced himself both for playing the Earl and for having people turn their back
on him, was cautiously surprised when no one did so.
 
Undoubtedly, some of them would when they
either recognised him or heard his name; and he was well aware he’d face more
opposition from the ladies of society than from their husbands but he’d cross
that bridge when he came to it. For now, it was enough that this first foray
was going better than he had expected.

Mr Fox fanned himself languidly and said, ‘Sarre?
Well, well. How exciting.
 
That
will
set the cat among the pigeons.’

Lord March said, ‘A pleasure, sir.
 
Care to join us in the card room?’

And Lord Philip Vernon, who was apparently the
Lintons’ son-in-law, smiled enviously and said, ‘I don’t suppose you’d give me
the name of your tailor?’

Gradually, he let himself slide more deeply into
his role. There was no room for error here. From this moment on, Society had to
think of him as the Earl of Sarre … and that wouldn’t happen unless he thought
of
himself
that way and projected the
necessary presence. So he guarded his expression, kept his spine rigid and
reminded himself to eschew French gestures and intonation – both of which
tended to sneak in when he wasn’t sufficiently careful.

Lady Linton, when Nicholas eventually ran her to
earth, smiled vaguely and said, ‘You’re very, very late, Nicholas.
 
Had you not brought Lord Sarre with you, I
might have managed a scold.
 
Or then
again, not.
 
Annoyance is so
fatiguing.
 
And you may atone by dancing
with … someone or other.’

Sarre watched her drift away.

‘Is she always like that?’

‘Yes.’
 
Nicholas lifted two glasses from a passing footman and handed him one. ‘Look
over there.
 
The two girls sitting on the
sofa by that big leafy thing.’

‘What of them?’

‘One of them is the heiress from Halifax.’

His lordship’s gaze sharpened almost
imperceptibly.

‘Which?’

‘The one dressed like a dandelion.’

From what Sarre could see, it seemed an apt
description.
 
He said, ‘Do you know her
name?’

‘Makepeace?
 
Madeley?
 
Machin?
 
Something like that,’ shrugged Nicholas.
 
‘I’ve never actually been introduced to her.’

‘What about the pretty brunette beside her?’

‘Cassandra Delahaye?’
 
Nicholas grinned. ‘I know
her
well enough.
 
Her father’s one of Rock’s friends and
Cassie’s a sweetheart.’

‘Is she?’
 
The Earl let a pause develop and then said, ‘Introduce me, will you?’

‘What on earth for? You can’t be hunting for a
leg-shackle already, surely?’

‘I’m not.
 
Call it a whim … and humour me.’

‘Oh God.
 
All right, then.
 
But on your own head
be it.’

On the far side of the room, Cassie noted the
newcomers and gave a gurgle of laughter.

‘Poor Cecy.
 
She bullied her brother into taking her home – and now here’s Lord
Nicholas, after all.’
 
She leaned towards
Caroline.
 
‘He’s the gentleman in blue –
and he’s the Duke of Rockliffe’s brother.
 
Cecily has been trying to catch his eye for weeks but he always manages
to elude her.’

Caroline watched the meandering approach of two tall,
beautifully-dressed gentlemen, only one of whom was smiling, and said, ‘And his
companion?’

‘I don’t know. But it looks as though we’re about
to find out.’

Arriving before the ladies, Nicholas grinned and
said, ‘Cassie, my love … you’re looking especially delicious tonight.’

The disapproving tilt of her chin was somewhat
spoiled by the twinkle in her eye.

‘I am most certainly
not
your love.
 
And
delicious?
 
What kind of compliment is
that?’

‘An honest one.’
 
Then, ‘Don’t be cross, darling.
 
I
want you to meet an old friend of mine, newly returned from Paris.’

Although he made his bow and murmured all the
right things, Sarre let the introductions and Nicholas’s flirtatious banter
flow over him.
 
He filed the heiress’s
name away in his mind and surveyed her without appearing to do so.

It was difficult to look past the garishly yellow
dress, adorned as it was with frills and rosettes and quantities of fluttering
ribbons.
 
And the dark blonde hair was
arranged in such an elaborate mass of twists and puffs that it completely
over-shadowed her face.
 
But her skin was
smooth, her waist looked trim and the little he could see of her bosom beneath
that unflattering neckline suggested interesting proportions.
 
As for her eyes … he was still waiting for
her to raise them above the level of his sternum. She wasn’t, by any stretch of
the imagination, a beauty – but neither was she absolutely plain.
 
For the rest, he couldn’t decide whether her
apparent inability to mouth more than the odd monosyllable denoted a lack of character,
social ineptitude or mere shyness. Then, Nicholas said something particularly
outrageous and she glanced up, half-way between shock and amusement, revealing
warm, expressive dark brown eyes which went a long way towards transforming her
otherwise ordinary face.