A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) (4 page)

So much for all of Aunt Alana's declaration of being uninterested! Not for the first time, Allie's curiosity overcame her scruples and she was hoping to espy the couple and perhaps overhear their conversation. Sometimes it seemed that Allie was more interested in the love affairs of others than in furthering one of her own.

She smiled wanly at her escort and tried to turn her attention back to his conversation while scouring the garden for a glimpse of the other pair. Finally, she spied her aunt's lavender gown as the couple disappeared into one of the bowers nearby. Once their location was known to her, she sent Beasley on his way to get her some punch.

As soon as he was out of sight, she scooted down the steps into the garden, took a path parallel to her quarry and fixed herself at a location just opposite them, behind a rather large hedge. She then seated herself on a stone bench and strained her ears.

For a long while there was no sound whatsoever, giving her pause to wonder what was going on, then she grinned as she realized they might be kissing! Her assumption was correct, of course, but she was startled when a resounding slap filled the air. Allie strained to hear the muffled voices coming through the foliage.

"Rothburn, you are impertinent! How dare you take liberties."

"Liberties? You practically threw yourself into my arms, inviting me to stroll in the garden. How could I be blamed for assuming your interest was not wholly political?

"Such a ruse, wanting to know about the reform bill I've put before Parliament. I am not such a fool as to believe you truly have an interest in such things." Rothburn's voice sounded rather horse, and a bit amused.

"And why would you presume that? You know me not well enough to presume anything regarding my interests—or my inclinations."

"Well, be that as it may, you were not exactly a non-participant in that kiss. You enjoyed it, you must admit. I'm not stupid. I felt your response."

"Any woman would respond to you. You have such a reputation. You have taken unfair advantage of your appeal, and I will not be trifled with. Try that again, and I will do more than slap you, 'tis certain."

"Oh? And just what must I fear from such a delicate lady as yourself? Surely you do not think me afraid of your idle threats."

"Idle threats? I will show you just how idle—"

"Then I suppose I will be forced to give you cause to show me—"

The low growl of the earl's voice was the last thing Allie heard, and a very long silence ensued. Try though she might, Allie could not see through the thick hedgerow, and she could only imagine what must be taking place on the other side.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she thought over what she had just heard. Though her aunt appeared uninterested in marriage, especially to Lord Rothburn—indeed, made remonstrations to that affect—it was obvious to Allie that this was not true.

Why else would her aunt have suggested this
tête-à-tête
in the garden? Allie was puzzled that her aunt would say one thing and then do the opposite. Knowing little of the ways of love Allie decided that she must learn—and soon.

She continued to listen, but no further conversation was forthcoming, so she reluctantly gave up her post. Returning to the veranda, she found a disgruntled  and scowling Mr. Beasley awaiting her with a cup of punch.

A moment later she was alarmed to see her aunt all but running from the garden, followed more slowly by the earl, a grin of smug satisfaction on his face and his cravat slightly crumpled. Allie had to know more.

Her desire to meddle came to the fore with such force she was amazed to realize it. Being an adventurous young miss, she decided to engage Lord Rothburn in conversation and discover what she could regarding his feelings toward her aunt. She already knew what her aunt's feelings were—it was obvious.

* * * * *

"Lord Rothburn. A moment please." Allie practically ran to the edge of the veranda, leaving poor Beasley still holding the glass of punch and looking after her with some alarm. "I would have a word with you."

She smiled prettily and curtsied as she came to a halt before the peer. Her next words were forestalled by the earl's blunt speech.

"Well, be quick, child. You have left your escort waiting in a manner most rude." The earl, impatient to get back into the ballroom and keep an eye on Lady Alana, spoke curtly. It seemed to have little effect on Allie.

"Why must everyone call me a child?" Seeing the look of imperious rage distort Lord Rothburn's features at her digression, she hurried on, the words tumbling from her mouth. "Actually, I wondered if you could call on us tomorrow and take my Aunt Alana and myself to ride in the park. Gordon promised to do so but he has been charged with other duties, and I would not want to miss out—"

"Well, of all the—" Rothburn, not misled in the least by her request, understood of a sudden her match-making maneuver, and he went from being extremely aggravated to exceedingly diverted.

Making a quick decision, he spoke in a kind tone, giving the girl respect for her pluckiness. "If your aunt wishes, I shall call on the pair of you at one o'clock. Send a note to my lodgings to let me know."

He then bowed circumspectly, first to Allie then to Beasley before striding quickly away. The earl was certain that there would be no getting Alana to comply with such a request, not after what had just occurred in the garden. He frowned at the disappointment following that thought.

What should it matter if the lady had no interest in him? Though her response to his wooing had been ardent, to say the least. Rothburn was no green boy to be fooled by a lady's manipulations. Her invitation into the garden had been more than concern regarding his current political concerns. She had a motive, he just could not think what it would be.

Ladies of quality—unmarried ones at any rate—did not make illicit assignations with men. Though flirtatious, she had disdained to comply with his rather advanced lovemaking. Yes, her behavior puzzled, but he would solve the enigma, or he was not The Sixth Earl of Rothburn.

Returning to the crush in the ballroom, he searched for Lady Alana and upon seeing her seated with a group of spinsters at the opposite end of the room, he could not help be amused at her ploy to avoid him. No man who valued his hide ventured near that group of harridans without some strong purpose.

Well,
he
would venture forth and show the lady that he was no coward to be quelled by a mere slap on his cheek, and so he bridged the distance, threading his way through the throng with much determination.

The earl never stopped to think why he should go to so much trouble over a woman who was trying to avoid him. A woman who had captured his attention as no other. A woman whose sparkling blue eyes had seen into his very soul, whose soft intelligent voice had pricked his interest and sent chills down his spine.

In the throes of bewilderment over his choice, the earl approached the group, ignoring the disapproving looks he received from that quarter.

"Lord Rothburn is smitten, no doubt about it. The look upon his face is bemused indeed," one elderly woman in a starched ruff—a fashion fifty-years gone—whispered loudly behind her fan.

The earl looked at her sharply, then forced a smile, recalling his need for the good graces of these matrons. Almack's could be a veritable hell-hole without the attending matron's patronage. Even Wellington had met with their disapproval and denied admittance for being late.

 Bowing to the sour-faced line, he smiled his most beguiling. "Ladies, I believe I have lost my dance partner. Pray excuse the intrusion."

Simpering and tittering at the unaccustomed attention, several of the elderly women eyed the virile young man with open regard. He shuddered inwardly at the thought of having to dance with any of them. Then he turned, as though surprised at her presence and bowed once again—before Lady Alana—as  he spoke in the most innocent of voices, "Ah! There you are. Had you forgotten? This is our waltz I believe."

Other than give these formidable old ladies grist for their gossip mill, Alana had no choice but to accept his outstretched hand and rise for the dance. Under cover of the music, she murmured to him in a voice discordant with exasperation. "I thought you'd withdraw this foolish pursuit once you knew I have no interest."

She refused to think how her heart had beaten more quickly upon spying his approach.

"Pursuit?" The earl raised his eyebrows innocently and raised his voice just a decibel. "I only wish to dance with you. That is not pursuit. Inviting me to escort you to the gardens could perhaps be considered—pursuit."

He grinned as he grabbed her about the waist, ignoring her stiffly indignant posture. With his other hand firmly grasping hers, swirled  her into the waltz as his eyes caught and held hers in a most impudent manner. "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much."

Many eyes were on the couple as they graced the floor with expertise, dipping and swirling to the music, eyes only for each other. Speculation was rampant in some quarters and bets would be placed at White's before this night was done as to the state of Rothburn's matrimonial plans.

* * * * *

Sir Gordon and Lady Eleanor stood with her mother, sipping punch and speaking in casual tones, seemingly unconcerned by the display of her would-be suitor and his aunt.

The Countess of Avonleigh, however, evinced some concern, for her plans in that area were not served by the current situation. Though she liked Sir Gordon well enough, he had no title— a sore point with her.

Her daughter, however, seemed oblivious to Rothburn's behavior and intent on the knight's conversation, appearing to hang on his every word.

Bets would be placed on that circumstance as well, and the odds favored a change of alliance.

Chapter Four

~~

"Allie! Do attend me when I speak to you!" Alana stood with hands on hips, her face a mask of unbridled fury. "I cannot understand how you could be so forward as to invite a gentleman to accompany us in the park. It is for the gentleman to invite you—or us, if you will.

"I will send 'round a note declining immediately and hope that word of this does not get about. You would be a laughing stock were it known that you have acted in such a bold and indecent manner."

"But, Auntie—" Allie tried, unsuccessfully, to interrupt the tirade. Her pretty face was blotched with tears of frustration and humiliation. Glossy curls bounced as she twisted to look out the window, avoiding the angry woman before her.

Botheration! No matter what she did, someone was always there to scold. It wasn't as though she were doing this for herself. She only wanted to further a courtship between her aunt and the earl, but of course, she could not say so. It was all so frustrating.  

"No buts, Allie." Alana turned her back on the mischief-making girl and went to the secretary at the end of the room, seated herself  and took up note paper and pen, talking all the while. "You have managed to embarrass me, disgrace yourself and court gossip. And to what end, may I ask? You have shown no interest in the earl. In fact you told me yourself that he was beyond your aspirations. What possessed you?"

Holding up a hand, she forbade an answer and continued in a voice only a bit less irritated. "Never tell me. I do not wish to know the workings of your devious mind. In future, however, you will consult with me before you indulge such a whim. Clear?"

"Yes. It is clear, Aunt Alana." Allie spoke in a deferential voice that belied her true feelings on the matter. It would not do to anger her sponsor further at this point.

She had another plan forming already, despite her aunt's warnings, and would put it into action as soon as possible. Excusing herself, she went to her rooms to write a note of her own. She would not be led by her elders in this matter. To her mind, she was grownup.

Sanding the paper to dry the ink, Allie took her missive and re-read the note. Satisfied herself it was correct, then summoned the footman, instructing him to deliver it along with the one Lady Alana would give him.

"And Peterson—" the girl swallowed, then continued, "please keep this note to yourself. It is no one's concern but my own."

"As you wish, Miss." Peterson, not one to defy his betters, agreed with a small bow and quit the room, note clutched firmly in his hand. A few moments later, he was accosted by Lady Alana who presented him with another missive.

"Take this 'round to Lord Rothburn quickly. I shall require a response, so be sure to convey that and wait for it." Lady Alana handed over a perfumed envelope addressed to The Earl of Rothburn. The one in his pocket was addressed to the earl as well.

"Yes, My Lady. Immediately, My Lady." Peterson, wondering just what was afoot, took himself off at a hastened pace, driven by the urgency in milady's tone.

Fond of this family though he was, at times he was hard put to understand the workings of their minds. Oh well, he concluded, it was not his place to comprehend his betters, his job was to do their bidding. With even more haste, he moved along the crowded London street and stopped just a few blocks down the row, at the residence of The Earl of Rothburn.

* * * * *

"My Lord. There is a message for you. Two, actually." The butler held out the small tray upon which resided two envelopes, both perfumed and written in obviously feminine hand. This did not surprise the butler, accustomed to his lordships forays with ladies, but what did surprise him was the fact that they came from the same household—at the same time.

Rather mysterious. "An answer is requested, Milord. I will have the messenger await you in the hall."               

"Thank you, Jenks." He thought for a moment then continued. "Take him to the kitchens and give the fellow a glass of ale, and give him a liberal tip. I shall be a few moments."

Rothburn took the two missives and balanced one in each hand, gazing first at one then the other in some consternation. What then? He had requested a response, but not two of them. Realizing that he would never know the answer until he read them, he chose one at random and tore it open. He frowned in displeasure as he read Lady Alana's missive.

'Rothburn,  Please accept our apologies, but we cannot ride with you in the park. Allie has over stepped herself in making such a request and I can only throw myself on your mercy and ask that you will not repeat this faux pas to another. It would ruin the child. Be aware of her youth and allow this folly to go without comment, I beg you. Regards, Lady Alana

Frowning, he re-read the message, a low growl in his throat. As if he would repeat gossip of any kind! How dare she assume him to be so flap-jawed! It rankled the earl's sensibilities that she thought so little of his character, and he was annoyed that she refused the outing. After their dance last night, he had hoped she would respond with more eagerness. He then tore open the other envelope and read it with growing amusement
.

"Rothburn, Please pay no attention to anything my aunt says in her note. I'm sure by now you have realized that she does not always do or say what she really feels, and I have a strong suspicion that she has more than a little fondness for you. I would make you aware that she is shy of your attentions based on her past experiences with gentlemen.

If you have regard for my aunt, be not deterred by her reluctance. Be strong in this matter, and I'm sure you will soon have a willing bride. I await your appearance this afternoon. Sincerely, Allie Pendleton.

Grinning at the audacity of the chit, and yet relieved at her words, the earl went to his desk and replied to Lady Alana's note, humming under his breath as he did so. Signing with a flourish, Rothburn directed the footman to deliver the answering missive along with a dozen hot house roses for Lady Alana and a lovely sprig of posies for her charge. Handing the servant a second note, he said in a low voice, "And this as well for Miss Pendleton, discreetly if you will."

* * * * *

"Your response My Lady." Peterson held forth the crested envelope and was faintly surprised when Lady Alana snatched it from him with a deep frown, abrupt dismissal in her tone.

"Thank you, Peterson, that will be all."

She was normally very kind to the servants and tipped quite liberally. It was so unlike her that Peterson was heard to remark upon it at dinner in servant's quarters that evening.

Alana, oblivious to her unkind behavior toward the servant,  tore open the heavy envelope and was surprised that two whole pages fell out. She took the missive to a deep chair close to the windows and sat down. Spreading the sheets on her lap, she deliberately delayed reading them, an exercise in self-control. She would not be eager to peruse his words.
She would not!

Finally, with a sigh she took up the opening page and began to read. Her eyes went wide, and her heart quickened and leapt into her throat as she took in words written in the earl's elaborate hand.

Dearest Lady Alana,  It is with a sore heart that I have received your curt dismissal of my invitation. Although, it is true that Miss Pendleton issued the initial invite, it was with a spirit of enthusiasm that I accepted her request for my company, believing that you were in compliance and wishful of my companionship as well.

I regret my hastiness in assuming that you would be eager for my friendship and can only wish it were so. Last night in the garden I believed for a moment you were not indifferent to me, and it is a blow to my heart to find that you not only are (indifferent) but as well, you think so little of my character that you feel it necessary to caution me against gossiping.

I can assure you that I have never, nor will I ever, indulge in idle gossip. That you should even think that I would repeat Miss Pendleton's error of decorum to anyone is beyond belief.

Knowing that you are under a misapprehension regarding my character I must insist on escorting you in the park as planned, that I may have the opportunity to correct this error. Expect me at one o'clock sharp. Your Servant, Rothburn

The door opened just then and Alana looked up to find the footman bringing a large vase of hot house roses into the room. She peered at the lovely fragrant bouquet with some surprise. "For whom are those meant?"

"They are for you, My Lady. Lord Rothburn has sent them. And, these as well for Miss Allie." The footman indicated a servant just behind him holding a smaller vase containing a bright array of posies.

Placing the flowers on an occasional table near her, Peterson then indicated that the lesser offering be set upon a table at the far end of the room. He then ushered the underling out of the door with the customary bow toward his mistress.

Staring at the beautiful array of deep, blood-red blossoms, Alana nearly forgot for a moment that there was a second sheet of paper yet unread. She let her gaze drop to the page and continued, her pulse fluttering anew at the next words. As she scanned the page, something stirred in her heart, something she tried without success, to ignore.

I do hope you enjoy the roses. They are beautiful and so, My Lady Alana, are you. If you look beneath the blossoms you will find a small token of my affection. If you still refuse my attentions when next we meet, these flowers will wilt, I can assure you, from the pain of your rejection, for they were given in the spirit of hope and cannot continue to blossom if that hope is crushed. Rothburn

Rubbish! Pure unadulterated rubbish! Alana crumpled the sheets in her hand and rising, went to toss them into the fireplace. She hesitated, however, and at the last moment smoothed the pages and returned them to their envelope, which she stuck in the pocket of her skirt.

Recalling his mention of a token of his affection, she returned to the bouquet, and peered into the vase where she saw a small, hastily wrapped package. Lifting it out, she brushed the soil away and pulled open the ribbon that held it.

A miniature fell into her hand. The autocratic and handsome features of Clivedon George, Sixth Earl of Rothburn, gazed up at her. He thought to trifle with her affections, she was sure. Rothburn, she knew, was famous for his adroit avoidance of matrimony, and if he sought to have any other type of relationship with her he could go hang.

Still, they were pretty words and pretty flowers. What lady could resist keeping the letter as a bulwark against her old age? Someday she would be able to read this letter and remember that once, briefly, she had warranted the attention of a handsome man.

What could it hurt to go riding in the park? She could further advance Allie as a suitable candidate for wife of the earl and this opportunity could not be ignored. She was responsible, after all, for finding the girl a good match. Yes, she decided. They would accept. Delusion, it seemed, was playing havoc with Lady Alana's sensibilities.

* * * * *

"Allie, I have decided, after due consideration, we will go riding with Rothburn today after all. But," Lady Alana fixed her niece with a stern glance, "you are never—I repeat
never
—again to invite any man to escort you. As it happens, Lord Rothburn had hinted at taking us into the park when I danced with him last night."

Alana lied without conscience, half believing her own words. "So, I've decided that he would have issued an invitation, given the chance."

Allie, privy to more than her aunt realized regarding the incident, kept her own council, and merely nodded compliance. The earl had sent along a short note for her, secreted to her by Peterson via Tillie. It had said only:

Point taken, do not despair. See you at one, Regards R

Demurely, the girl sat close and offered to pour the tea, passed the scone platter and generally made herself useful. She experienced a grand feeling of triumph as she contemplated the result of her small ruse. The earl and her aunt had clearly taken a fancy to one another.