A Chance Encounter (19 page)

Lady Dewesbury flushed. She turned her shoulder on Lady Ratcliffe. “I have been thinking for some minutes about it. Perhaps I should go to Bethany and remain with her for a week or so.”

“Oh, decidedly not,” exclaimed Lady Athene. “Bethany charged me strictly to persuade you not to come. You know that she never has the least trouble, Mama, and besides, we agreed between us that you are needed more here at Dewesbury. I do not recall there ever being such a strange turnabout in the family, but there it is. One could never have foreseen such a thing, could one? Edward, you shall tell me later every detail of your little romance with Miss Chadwick. I am agog with curiosity.”

An odd, muffled sound emanated from Miss Ratcliffe. All eyes turned on her, with varying degrees of sharpening interest or dread, depending upon the owner’s character. But Miss Ratcliffe thoroughly disappointed those who anticipated at least a minor tantrum. She only rose to her feet, carefully setting aside her unfinished tea and biscuit. “I fear that I am developing the headache, Lady Dewesbury. I hope that you will excuse me.”

“Of course, dear child,” said Lady Dewesbury, hiding her sense of relief that there was not to be a reoccurrence of the hysteria that they had all been treated to some days before.

“Poor darling! I shall go up with you, Augusta, and see you made comfortable,” said Lady Ratcliffe, also putting down her teacup.

“Thank you, Mama. But I had hoped that I might prevail upon one of the gentlemen to escort me,” said Miss Ratcliffe. Her lovely eyes lifted, to come to rest commandingly upon the viscount’s face.

Joan felt herself stiffen and she tried hard not to allow her disapproval, her outrage, show in her expression. She thought Miss Ratcliffe’s tactics quite unashamedly forward, especially when she directed them at a gentleman who was announced to be betrothed. She turned her head, waiting to see how the viscount would handle this newest of Miss Ratcliffe’s importunities.

Lord Humphrey
was to all appearances absorbed by the small fire in the grate and he was slow to react, even to the small pool of silence that had fallen about the company.

Miss Ratcliffe was heard to give a smothered exclamation. The earl cleared his throat, but Lady Dewesbury shot such a bright forbidding glance at him that he subsided farther into his chair. His face took on all the expression of stone. Sir Thomas looked at the ceiling, by his example hoping to hold his wife’s tongue in check. Lord Ratcliffe’s hand fell onto his wife’s arm. She looked around at him, then irritably turned her shoulder. Lady Cassandra regarded all of them with unholy amusement lightening her gray eyes.

Vincent Dewesbury was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. “I hold myself completely at your service, Miss Ratcliffe,” he said suavely, rising and covering the distance between them. He held out his hand.

Miss Ratcliffe was caught in the coils of her own trap. Her eyes glittered, but her obvious temper was not evident in her sweet voice. “Why, thank you, Mr. Dewesbury. It is a pleasure to associate with a true gentleman.’’ With that rather clumsy shot in the viscount’s direction, she placed her fingers delicately upon Mr. Dewesbury’s arm.

He firmly drew her hand through his elbow so that they were in nearer proximity. She glanced up at him quickly, then away when she met his cynical gaze. His expression was bland as he walked with her out the door.

Lady Ratcliffe watched her daughter’s exit with a small frown marring her broad brow. “Perhaps I shall just go along to see Augusta safely into her room,” she said. She hurried after her daughter and Mr. Dewesbury.

When the door had closed behind his wife, Lord Ratcliffe snorted. “I do not know what Aurelia expects Dewesbury to be able to accomplish between here and the upstairs. In a house full of servants, too.”

“I suspect that if my rascally nephew were to try to steal a kiss or two, Augusta would be quite able to put him firmly into his place without the least difficulty,” Lord Dewesbury said with heavy humor.

Lord Humphrey was set to contribute his own opinion regarding Miss Ratcliffe’s powers of survival, but he swallowed back the biting words. Considering the situation, his opinion would hardly be well-received by either his father or Lord Ratcliffe.

“Really, Greville! What an odd way to speak of dear Augusta,” said Lady Dewesbury reprovingly.

“Oh, but how utterly true! Why, when I recall how Augusta was used to cut up at poor Vincent when we were all children together, I wonder that he dares to say a word in her presence,” Lady Athene said, making her third choice from the array of cakes and biscuits that had been provided along with tea.

“Vincent is no longer a sensitive child,” said Lady Dewesbury.

Lord Dewesbury coughed. “No, he is not that,” he agreed.

Lady Dewesbury threw the earl a look of exasperation. A pucker formed between her brows. “I don’t know why Vincent is here. He is always welcome, naturally, but he visits so rarely these days. I wonder what has brought him at this particular time? Athene, have you any notion?”

“I haven’t the least clue, Mama. He did not come with us, you may be assured. A young family is not the sort of company that my cousin keeps,” Lady Athene said on a laugh. She popped the remains of a biscuit into her mouth.

“Curiosity,” uttered Sir Thomas. He bowed in Lord Ratcliffe’s direction. “Begging your pardon, my lord.”

Lord Ratcliffe waved aside the simple apology. “Oh, don’t think to insult my pride, Sir Thomas. It has taken quite a battering, but I have found it almost liberating.”

Lady Cassandra ignored Lord Ratcliffe’s levity. “Vincent comes to do mischief, mark my words. Miss Chadwick, you would do well to watch your back. You are just the sort of delectable morsel to appeal to one of Mr. Dewesbury’s cut.’’

Joan spluttered on a disbelieving laugh. “Come, ma’am! I am hardly one likely to interest such a worldly gentleman as Mr. Dewesbury seems to be.”

“Oh, come, Grandmamma! Vincent is what is known as a ‘bad man’ and all of that, but you cannot accuse him of anything worse than being a libertine and I have never yet heard that he preys on the innocent or the respectable,” Lady Athene said. She smoothed her sleeve. “Still, I do think he holds a certain fascination.”

Sir Thomas shot up his brows. “Does he, indeed!”

Lord Humphrey was frowning. He had not liked his grandmother’s advice to Joan, bringing up as it did quite an unpleasant possibility. “I have never liked Vincent above half.”

“Lord, why should you?” retorted Lady Athene. “The feeling has been mutual since you were both boys, vying over Augusta’s pretty golden head. When I recall how many times Vincent drew your claret and played such mean tricks upon you and . . . Well, it just shows one, does it not?
We are all set in our roles as children. There is no hope for it at all, for just look at Edward and Vincent, still at loggerheads whenever they chance to meet, circling each other like stiff-legged hounds.”

“I have never vied for one single hair belonging to Augusta,” Lord Humphrey said from between his teeth.

“Oh, no, of course not. I do beg your pardon. How silly of me, to be sure,” Lady Athene said, rolling her eyes heavenward. She rose from her place, shaking out the skirt of her pelisse. “I am still quite deplorably damp. I am certain that Nurse must have taken proper care of the children and made sure that they were dry, but I am always such a worrier. I shall just run up to the nursery before going to rest before I must change for dinner. It is just family here, so I know that I may make my excuses without giving offense. Thomas?”

“Quite,” said Sir Thomas, also rising. He lingered to take a polite exit from the earl and the others.

Lady Dewesbury also rose, to walk with her daughter to the drawing-room door. “We dine at the usual hour, Athene, so do not think that you must hurry.”

“Still keeping town hours, Mama? How utterly fatiguing. I shall be half asleep before ever we are through the first course,” said Lady Athene cheerfully. Her voice dropped, but not enough to prevent those behind from hearing her next words. “It is such a turnabout, is it not? So unlike Edward! Has Papa been out with his fowling piece? I do so like fowl of all sorts. One’s figure suffers from beef, you know.”

The Earl of Dewesbury reddened at his daughter’s words. He growled something unintelligible.

Throwing his father-in-law an apologetic glance, Sir Thomas hurried to take his wife’s arm. “Come, my dear Athene.”

“Have I disgraced myself again, Thomas? Ah, well. When I reach Grandmamma’s age and continue to speak my mind as she does, everyone will think me an eccentric as well,” said Lady Athene.

Lord Humphrey had the audacity to laugh. He saluted his sister with a brief gesture of one hand to his brow. “Bravo, Athene!”

His sister threw him a puzzled glance over her plump shoulder as Sir Thomas escorted her out of the room.

Lady Cassandra glared at the viscount before her glance swept the others in the room. She discerned amusement in all their faces. “An entire generation without respect for their elders,” she snapped.

“Come, Mama. What do you expect? You have often said how like yourself Athene is,” said Lady Dewesbury in a reasonable tone, returning to her chair.

“I do not recall ever making such an error in judgment, daughter,” said Lady Cassandra at her haughtiest.

Joan stood up, judging that her own chance to exit had come at last. “Lady Dewesbury, pray excuse me as well. I was walking in the garden earlier and I, too, am a bit worse for the turn in weather.”

“Of course, Miss Chadwick.”

Lord Humphrey at once offered his arm to Joan and walked with her out of the drawing room. He escorted her to the bottom of the stairs and there lingered a moment. “I apologize for thwarting your escape earlier,” he said.

“No matter, my lord. I was quite interested in all that was said. I am learning a great deal about your family,” said Joan.

Lord Humphrey grinned. “You are learning more than you ever bargained for, I’ll wager.”

Joan laughed and shook her head. “No, but—”

What she would have said was forever lost, for the front door crashed open. On a flurry of wind and rain, two slim figures dashed inside. The young male turned swiftly and slammed the door closed, cutting off the blowing rain.

The young lady attempted to shake off her soaked pelisse. Her straw bonnet hung bedraggled and sad about her face. “Really, Neville! What a perfectly ghastly notion! Trust you to think of something so corkbrained. Only look at my bonnet!”

“Corkbrained, was it? Then why didn’t you just stay with the carriage until someone had been sent for you?
I
shall tell you why! You couldn’t bear that I would be having a small adventure all to myself,” retorted the young man.

“Adventure! Why, what is so grand about running through a summer storm and trouncing through nasty puddles, I should like to know,” demanded the young lady.

Lord Humphrey laughed. The two skirmishers left off battle and looked around, their expressions reflecting profound astonishment. At the same time, the occupants of the drawing room spilled out into the hall.

“Neville! Margaret!” exclaimed Lady Dewesbury. She hurried forward. She hugged both swiftly, then released them in gathering dismay. “Whatever are you doing here so early? Look at the both of you! You are soaked to the bone! Go up at once and soak in a hot tub before you catch your deaths!”

“Mama! Papa!” squealed the young lady. Deserting her mother, she threw herself into the earl’s arms. She placed a resounding kiss upon his cheek. “Oh, it is so good to be home!”

The young gentleman was not far behind in greetings, but he was much more circumspect, offering his hand to his father and Lord Ratcliffe. But when he came to Lord Humphrey, he grinned and feinted a punch at the viscount’s forearm.

“Well, brat? Have you been given the sack again?” asked Lord Humphrey, grinning, as he warded off the mock blow.

“No such thing! I am on holiday, I shall have you know! Yes, and so is Margaret. It is the jolliest treat! We are to be home a full month,” said the young gentleman.

The young lady turned again to her mother. She was trying unsuccessfully to undo the sodden satin bow of her ruined bonnet. “Mama, pray—!” Lady Dewesbury went at once to work on the knot and the young lady slewed her bright eyes round on the viscount. “Edward! You shall never guess! The new music teacher says that I dance quite divinely. And you once called me a clumsy ox, only for mashing a few of your worthless toes!”

Lord Humphrey turned to Joan. “If you have not already guessed it, this is my younger brother. Neville, make your leg to Miss Joan Chadwick, my betrothed. And that pert baggage is our sister, Miss Margaret Dewesbury.”

“Betrothed?” squeaked Margaret. Her large gray eyes widened to their full extent. She did not even notice that her mother had lifted away the disgraceful bonnet. “But I thought that Miss Ratcliffe was—”

Lady Dewesbury hurried to interrupt her youngest daughter. She threw a comprehensive glance at Lord Dewesbury’s descending glower. “You shall be told all about it in due course, Margaret. But for now you must go upstairs and get out of those clothes. You, too, Neville. No, Margaret! Not another word! Now come along, the both of you!”

Lady Dewesbury firmly marched her two slack-jawed progeny up the stairs. As they passed Joan, they stared hard at her with burning curiosity.

Joan nodded in a pleasant way and she smiled faintly. There seemed to be no end to the people to whom she was to become known as the viscount’s betrothed. The farce had grown to ludicrous proportions and was still gaining momentum. It only needed the neighborhood gossips to drop in for a chat with Lady Dewesbury, she thought with resignation.

At the turn of the stairs, Neville twisted in his mother’s clutches. “Papa! The carriage has thrown a wheel at the end of the drive. That was what we ran ahead to tell you!” he called.

The earl waved acknowledgment and turned to the butler. “Hudgens, call the proper men out. They’ll dislike this weather but it cannot be helped. Promise them an extra pint.”

“Yes, my lord.” Hudgens left at once to set the task in motion.

Lord Ratcliffe chuckled. “Quite an exciting time we are having, eh, Greville? The unexpected casts a fine burnish onto the days. Enough to keep us all upon our toes.”

Lord Dewesbury glanced toward Joan. “Indeed. One could wish for more comfortable times, however.”

Lady Cassandra had come last to the drawing-room door and had stayed well back from the latest flurry of greetings. Now she moved forward, snorting her disdain. “Stuff and fustian! What a dreadful bore you have become, Greville! I had thought better of you. One should not curl up one’s toes before the grim reaper ever appears! Miss Chadwick! You shall accompany me up the stairs. I am fatigued by the miasma of the hidebound and obstinate stupidity that emanates from a certain quarter!”

The earl’s face and neck flushed. His mouth tightened. “You, madam, have always meddled in matters that are not yours to command. I have held my tongue, but no longer. Be warned, Lady Cassandra! I shall not sit idly by for more of your insults and sly maneuverings.” He spun on his heel and strode down the hall until he reached his study. Entering, his lordship slammed the door with resounding force.