A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) (10 page)

"Not bad for either of us, I should expect. But Lady Eleanor has been censured by Almack's. She appears not to care, but I would not have her suffer, therefore we must get this straightened out with all haste. You know how much the ladies rely on their good standing at Almack's. Probably need to get my grandmother involved in this if Lady Jersey doesn't come 'round soon."

Sir Gordon, worried for his lady love, gulped the last of his Port and held out his glass to be filled.

"Really Pendleton, do get it yourself. I poured the last one." With a return to their natural camaraderie, Rothburn had apparently given up playing host. "Much to think upon and plan. I'm sure my mother can handle Lady Jersey. Been friends for years. But I wouldn't bring your grandmother into this unless it becomes necessary. My mother and she are not the best of friends."

"Oh? And just why would my sweet gentle grandmother not get along with anyone?" Sir Gordon intoned with a touch of sarcasm. He knew well his grandmother's penchant for causing trouble—especially among the females. The Countess of Rothburn would not be the first to say so.

The sarcasm was not lost on Rothburn who only just managed not to burst into laughter and nearly choked on his Port.

Everyone knew Lady Grace was a vicious and ruthless old tyrant and had many enemies. Sir Gordon let the earl's less than complementary behavior pass. It would stand to reason that she had not developed this attitude recently and must've been a hellacious tyrant in her youth, when The Countess of Rothburn had known her. "Wish I knew that story, but never a hint of it spoken in my presence. What do you think?"

Rothburn appeared uncertain why his mother disliked the old woman, but seemed convinced that she did. "Can't say. Mother never told me, but she has been known upon occasion to say some very unflattering things about Countess Champlay. Just don't think they should be together in the same room. Not a good idea at all."

As if his own words had just entered his consciousness, Rothburn came to his feet in alarm. "Devil take it! How am I supposed to convince my mother that I want to marry Alana? When she finds out Lady Grace is her mother, I'm in the soup. Never get her consent! I'll spend the rest of my life trying to reconcile my wife and my parent. Appalling thought, that."

"Nonsense, Rothburn. My grandmother's identity has always been known to your mother, who has always been the soul of kindness to me."

Sir Gordon, though he harbored a great dislike for his grandparent, was feeling familial and not certain he liked Rothburn's attitude, thus his voice grew haughty as he continued.

"Can't see her objecting to Lady Alana. No reason to. Actually, our family and my grandmother's of course, go back to the Crusades. We can match blood lines with any peer."

Waving his hand in a dismissive manner, Rothburn—who had no interest in Gordon's antecedents at the moment—changed the subject with haste. "I should go and see her straight off. No sense in beating about the bush and waiting. Yes, the sooner the better."

Striding across the room, he reached for the bell pull and summoned his carriage. "Want to go with me? You are a representative, after all, of the Pendleton family."

He did not need to mention that he required the moral support.

"I should be most interested in joining you. Hope your mother still has that marvelous cook. Could use a decent meal. Since cook got measles and had to be quarantined, hasn't been a bit of good food on the table."

Sir Gordon, who liked his creature comforts, was not joking in the least. "It's ghastly not having a decent plate on one's table."

"What makes you think she is going to feed us? May well throw me out on my ear—and you with me. Can't look forward to this. Rather be dragged through the streets by a mob."

 Rothburn loved his mother but had a deal of respect for her excitable ways. She wasn't a harridan exactly, but she could turn nasty if thwarted, and he was about to put paid to one of her fondest wishes.

At his look of doom and gloom, Sir Gordon laughed heartily. "Really, old chin, you look as though someone had stolen your pudding."

"I've heard that expression somewhere," Rothburn said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You ought to recall," Sir Gordon said with a generous portion of satisfaction. "Not long ago you said the same to me in my own foyer."

"Well, let's be about it. Might as well get it done and behind us. Worst can happen, she'll disown me, but I have a certain amount of income without her damnable fortune."

"Your mother will not disown you," Gordon assured him, then added with a modicum of smugness, "Alana has a fortune of her own, I would remind you. Don't give another thought to the ready. You shall survive."

"I shall not take money from a woman," Rothburn stated firmly. "If she brings a dowry, it shall be put in trust for the children."

"As you say, old fellow. As you say," Sir Gordon agreed ruefully.

He'd never heard Rothburn complain about the substantial sum Lady Eleanor would have brought to the marriage.

Chapter Nine

~~

Lady Alana, accompanied by Lady Eleanor, arrived at the town house of Countess Rothburn at half past one, just in time for a light luncheon. They were ushered into the smaller sitting room.

"Just how long are we expected to wait upon our hostess? Is she generally this autocratic in her behavior?" Alana was not pleased with the situation. Their hostess had left them sitting for a deal of time.

"Be patient," Eleanor counseled in a serene voice. "She is most likely as nervous as you are, which would account for her delayed appearance."

"I? Nervous?" Lady Alana gave the other woman a look meant to quell, but she could see that Lady Eleanor had long since gotten her measure and feared her not one whit.

Botheration! It was profoundly inconvenient to lose one's advantage this way. Still, she could not let the comment pass without censure. "I am not nervous. You are the
flibbertigibbet
here, not I."

"I do not behave in such a manner," Eleanor protested mildly and turned the topic to more pressing matters. "How best will we approach the subject, do you think?"

"I haven't a feather to fly with in that regard," Lady Alana admitted. "I should think we'll wait and see how she behaves, and react accordingly."

"React?" Lady Eleanor—not considered a notably intelligent young woman—occasionally displayed a hint of her superior intellect. "One does not
react
, Alana. One
awaits
the opportunity to act. Reacting allows one's opponent to control the game."

"You are right, of course," Alana admitted, seemingly too overcome to argue the point. "We shall wait and see, then seize the opportunities as they present themselves. I'm still not certain I should follow through with this," she added. "Rothburn is so impossible! He hasn't been 'round in almost a week and I daresay he is regretting already that he ever met me."

"Nonsense. He is probably busy. He's in Parliament, remember."

Lady Alana—edgy and out of sorts—had thought of nothing but the earl for days. The contemplation of meeting his mother and putting such an outlandish request before her was daunting and did nothing to raise her spirits. She was, therefore, pleasantly surprised when the lady in question entered the room with a gracious smile and held out her hands in greeting.

"Eleanor, so glad you're here. And you must be Lady Alana Fisk. What a charmer you are! I can see why my son is snared by your allure."

Though Alana thought her choice of words could have been better, her smile and the twinkle in her eye gave some hope that the woman was not belittling her. She  rose and gave the older woman a graceful curtsey, taking the hands that were offered with a softly murmured response, "So kind of you to see us ."

For her part, the Countess could see a marked resemblance between the young woman before her and the girl's mother. Though to be fair, Alana did not have that wanton, spoiled look that had marred the features of Lady Grace. The girl rather resembled her father through the eyes and her mouth looked as though it had never turned down in petulance.

She could sense the young woman's nervousness as well, in spite of Lady Alana's cordial manner. Something about Alana was pleasing to her and Lady Susan found herself less disgruntled at the notion of Rothburn's changing alliance than she had been.

"Well ladies, since luncheon will be served shortly, we should have a glass of sherry, I think. Cook has outdone herself today so we would not want to spoil our appetites and put her out of countenance. She will burn my dinner for a week should I upset her!"

The answering grins of her young guests gave the Countess of Rothburn a calmer feeling about their meeting. She had been quite agitated until now, wondering what manner of chit Eleanor would bring with her.

Lady Eleanor ventured a comment, hoping to open negotiations quickly and get things settled. "As I said when last we spoke, Rothburn has given me no reason to believe that he wants this marriage and has very much evinced a desire for the company of Lady Alana." She nodded in the general direction of the woman next to her and continued in a rush. "We had hoped that you might consider—"

"Yes, yes, I know what you wish for me to consider." Countess Rothburn could not like the forwardness of Eleanor's manner in broaching the subject before her hostess could do so. She waved an imperious hand to silence the young woman and pursed her lips in a most stringent manner. "We shall get to that after luncheon."

"First things first," she intoned while glancing at Lady Alana, who sat calmly and returned her gaze with apparent ease. "I should like to chat on other subjects and gain some knowledge of your character."

"I can assure you, my character cannot be discerned during one brief chat." Alana, miffed at Lady Susan's hinting she might have a flaw in her character found her nervousness had dissipated. She matched the Countess in haughtiness. "I am certain you have already investigated me. You've had a week in which to do so, since Lady Eleanor spoke with you about me."

"You are right of course. But what I have discovered regarding your reputation—which is quite impeccable, actually—is not what I meant."

The Countess was impressed with Alana's ability to stand up for herself, for she could not like a spineless miss. The girl might do quite well, she had begun to think—better, perhaps than the gentle Lady Eleanor.

Though a bit timid, she'd always thought Lady Eleanor a perfect replacement as the Countess of Rothburn, yet she was even more drawn to Lady Alana, but did not wish to have her know it just yet. Being removed to the position of Dowager Countess would not be so painful were she to have the right daughter-in-law to mentor.

Lady Susan, playing one of her favorite games, wished to keep both young women on tenterhooks for a time. Sadly, she had a lamentable taste for watching people squirm, especially if she were the perpetrator of their discomfort.

Her actions in this regard were mostly harmless, as Countess Rothburn was not cruel or evil, and she seldom let anyone stay uncomfortable for long. Autocratic and fully aware of her exalted position in society—and occasionally bored—she enjoyed her 'little manipulations' as she called them.

Besides, there were other things she wished to discover about this poised young woman. Lady Alana, so close-mouthed and contained put Countess Rothburn in a position of having to pry.

"Have you been told your mother and I have never gotten along?" She placed the question with seeming casualness and awaited the response with narrowed, assessing eyes.

Lady Alana, apparently startled and quite uninformed on the subject, did not answer immediately. She looked at Lady Eleanor, who appeared equally surprised, then back at their hostess. Trying to determine the intent behind the question, Alana appeared to grope for a response. "No—that is, my mother and I seldom exchange confidences."

She flushed, obviously uncomfortable at revealing such intimate information, but being as honest as possible. "We do not get along at all, as a matter of fact. Though I love my mother, there are times when—well, I cannot like her. Therefore, your...  revelation does not shock me."

"Are you not going to ask why your mother is my enemy?" The Countess had hoped for a more dramatic response, given her penchant for melodramatics. She was rather disappointed with the placidity of Lady Alana's response. "I should think you would be curious."

"And you are quite right, of course. I am
most
curious, but it would be beyond good manners should I query you. If you wish me to know, I'm sure you will tell me."

Lady Alana smiled gently at the older woman, a twinkle in her eyes revealing her humorous outlook and hiding well her inner struggle. Though she did not care much for her mother's oft times horrid behavior, she was not in the habit of maligning her in public. It would not do her own character justice were she to do so now. Hearing her sometimes difficult parent discussed in a bad light was not to her taste as well.

"Did you know I was almost engaged to Mathis Pendleton? Our families were, in fact, negotiating the possibilities of a marriage contract when your mother stole a march on me in a most atrocious manner. She impugned my reputation, told horrid lies about my virtue and Mathis, in his infatuation, believed every word."

The pain of that long ago incident stole into Lady Susan's  eyes for a fleeting moment, then her mask of indifference came forth to shutter her look once more. "Fortunately your mother was too clever to put these things about the
ton
and Pendleton, being a gentleman of the highest order, never would. The incident was kept quiet, but he begged off, giving his love for your mother as his main consideration."

The two young women looked at one another and back to the Countess, their attention fully upon her. Countess Rothburn paused with a theatrical lift of her chin and shrugged her shoulders gracefully, holding the spotlight and withholding her next words with a dramatic pause. When Lady Alana shifted restlessly in her chair and Lady Eleanor opened her mouth as though to interrupt the moment, she continued.

"My father was all too willing to forgo the match for he had not liked my marrying outside the peerage. In fact, he'd only agreed because of the regard he held for the Pendleton family." Her matter-of-fact speech belied the anguish that assailed her in recalling this incident.

"I was allowed to be the one to publicly withdraw, saving face, if you will. But the sad part of it for me was seeing that Lady Grace did not care for him, only his money, and she was ruthless in her pursuit of my beau. Her family was in dire financial straits, you see, and she was determined to marry the wealthiest personage she could find."

Countess Rothburn then paused dramatically once more. Placing a hand to her heart, she continued in what sounded suspiciously close to tears, "Ours had been a love match, at least for me, and I was crushed."

"Surely there were other men of wealth in the peerage she could have chosen from?" Lady Eleanor, curiosity stimulated, could not withhold her comment. "Why did she choose Pendleton?"

"Because he was mine. Because she and I had quarreled on occasion and we were not on friendly terms. She was perhaps jealous of me. Lady Grace disliked any female who came close to rivaling her beauty and I was not exactly plain."

The Countess glanced meaningfully at the portrait hung over the mantle. "That is I, you know, at the tender age of seventeen."

She waited a moment while the two young women gazed at the portrait, then went on. "Although, this is only speculation for I'm not really certain. All I know is that one day I was close to being engaged to Mathis and the next day he had sent 'round a note of apology and begged off from attending dinner at our manor house. He came later, of course, with his father, and they closeted themselves in the study for hours with my father and the end result was that I was left without a suitor."

Both Lady Alana and Lady Eleanor, though attending her words, still gawked at the portrait, for the visage there was indeed quite beautiful and elegant. The girl posed with a small spaniel at her feet, lying against the folds of the russet velvet gown, the bodice of which was cut daringly low to reveal creamy round shoulders and the youthful swell of her bosom.

A fall of raven hair draped over one shoulder, the wide forehead and sculpted, thin black brows were a perfect match for the wide dark brown eyes and sweeping lashes. There was still a look about the woman that suggested that long-ago girl.

Sitting up very straight and assuming a no nonsense posture, Countess Rothburn changed the subject with all haste Her memories were overcoming her and she did not wish for these two young ladies to be privy to her private pain. "Well, I see that it is nearly luncheon, so if you would like to refresh yourselves, I shall do the same and I will meet you in the dining room in ten minutes."

She reached for the bell pull and sent her guests off with the footman to repair their toilettes before the meal. After they had gone, she sat for a long moment gazing at a small miniature encased in a gold locket that she always wore about her neck. The young man—not her late husband—had deep brown eyes and an engaging cleft in his chin, wavy light brown hair, so like Sir Gordon's, and a gentle, appealing mouth. Sighing, she snapped the object closed and rose to follow her visitors from the room.