A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) (5 page)

Allie could not fail to see the significance of the roses, compared to her own small bouquet. A man sent roses to his lady love and posies to one for whom he had a lesser regard. They could be brought 'round to a match eventually, she was sure.

Allie, as usual, was not concentrating on her own future. Somewhere along the way the girl had forgotten about getting married herself, so caught up was she in her match-making scheme. It would take a handsome young man of some notoriety to turn her head now that she had loved and rejected the most eligible male of the
Haute ton
.

* * * * *

Griffin George stood looking in some amazement at his cousin Rothburn. "What do you mean, you have to leave? I've been traveling these last two days, and I've so looked forward to spending some time at White's with you."

"Griffin, you must understand. I've things to do, and I cannot entertain you at this instant. I'm—well, I'm engaged elsewhere at the moment and you'll just have to go along to White's on your own."

Rothburn, looking mightily distracted, stood slapping his riding gloves against his thigh. "If you must know, I'm committed to taking two ladies for a ride in the park, and I'm nearly late as it is."

"Which two ladies? Perhaps I might join you. Two is too much, even for you." He looked at Rothburn hopefully. His travel stained appearance and crumpled cravat notwithstanding, he was ready to go.

"Looking like that?" Rothburn turned toward the door, calling over his shoulder. "You may join me at the Heppleton ball tonight for dancing. But, you will go nowhere with me looking like that. The very idea, man! You are a mess!"

"Just give me a few minutes—" Griffin tried unsuccessfully to detain the earl, and failing that, turned back into the house, calling for his valet. Within the space of a few minutes he was spruced up, his coat and cravat replaced with fresh attire, his boots given a quick shine and he was off again, heading for Hyde Park.

Griffin was not a man to be told no, even by his lofty cousin, and he was determined to meet the ladies that Rothburn was scheduled to squire.

Any woman Rothburn singled out for attention had to be a beauty and if there were two of them, it would be all the better should Griffin be able to attach himself to one. Did he not aspire, after all, to become a rake hell like Clivedon George, The Earl of Rothburn?

Trotting along on one of the his cousin's best blooded mounts, Griffin kept a lookout for the crested carriage and was not disappointed to find his assessment correct. Two lovely creatures—though one looked to be a bit old for the marriage mart—sat sedately in the carriage, laughing delightedly at some comment of Rothburn.

The younger one caught Griffin's eye immediately with her wide smile and sparkling sapphire eyes. And damnation if that wasn't a dimple in her cheek. His heart skipping a beat, Griffin rode forward until he was level with the vehicle and waited for his relative to acknowledge him.

"Griffin! I thought I told you—" Rothburn, realizing he was being unmannerly, stopped his scold, deciding instead to introduce his cousin, as was customary. "That is, I am surprised to see you. Thought you went to White's. May I present Lady Alana Fisk and her niece, Miss Pendleton?" He turned his gaze to the ladies and offered, "My cousin, Griffin George, just up from Cambridge."

"Delighted Ladies. I just arrived and was told by the servants that you had come driving in the park. Thought I'd see if I could find you. I'm surely glad now that I did."

Ignoring his cousin's raised eyebrows at this small deceit, Griffin turned his gaze upon Allie and smiled his most devastating smile. A smile normally guaranteed to thrill the heart of any young woman, so he'd often been told. And, it did not fail him now, he could see, when Allie beamed at him in a most congenial manner.

When he turned that same smile upon the aunt it was received with less enthusiasm, he noted, as she returned his look with a cool gaze and limpid lifting of her lips. He noted as well the scowl Rothburn speared him with at that moment. There was more than a hint of jealousy in that look.

For all intents and purposes, it looked to him as though his cousin had more than a passing interest in the aunt. He would find out quick enough, he decided, and proceeded to make himself charming to the older of the pair, gauging Rothburn's irritated reaction as proof of that pudding.

Griffin was relieved to discover that it was not the younger lady that interested Rothburn. In fact, he was elated to know it. Quickly, he returned his attention to Allie. He noted with some devilish amusement, Rothburn visibly relaxed as Griffin's attention fell away from the older of the pair. He observed as well the charming young girl went from pouting to sparkling as he engaged her attention with his witty commentary.

For his part, Rothburn found his violently jealous reaction to Griffin's flirtatious manner with Lady Alana quite alarming. Never in his entire life had he felt such a rush of rage. Tamping it down with some effort, he regarded his intrusive cousin with something akin to irony.

Had the man not come along and flirted with Alana, Rothburn might never have discovered in time that he was dangerously close to falling in love. It would not serve. The earl was determined to stay single for as long as possible, and a love alliance was not in the cards at any rate.

He would marry—eventually—but to one of his mother's choosing. And she had already selected Lady Eleanor for the role of future Countess. That's how it was done in his circles, and he was not going to flout convention and incur the possible wrath of his parent. No matter how he might desire this lovely creature who gazed at him knowingly.

He might be The Earl of Rothburn, but his mother—due to some fancy manipulations by his late father's solicitor—held the purse strings. All Rothburn actually owned was the entailment property, family jewels and a fair bit of land he'd purchased on his own. If his mother never gave over, he would still be quite well off, but he wanted it all.

More importantly, he'd given Lady Eleanor every indication—by his attentions, if not his words—that they would eventually wed. To withdraw at this point would be a breach of etiquette certain to see him ostracized by society should the lady complain—an occurrence he did not wish for. It would ruin his political career, something dear to his heart.

Lost in his ruminations, he did not at first hear Lady Alana's question and had to be drawn back by an elbow in his ribs, given by that same lady.

"Really, Rothburn, you are not minding a word I say." With that she turned her back on him and engaged her niece and Griffin—who had maneuvered his mount to the opposite side of the carriage—in conversation. Leaving him in no doubt she snubbed him.

He kept his temper with some effort and waited his chance to join the discussion without appearing gauche. As he began to attend the conversation, he realized that the trio was making plans. Griffin had been invited to dinner before the ball, but the earl had not. Exercising his prerogative as The Earl of Rothburn, he did something heretofore unheard of for him—he invited himself.

"I say, that is an excellent idea. Griffin and I will join your family at the dinner hour and if Gordon is not otherwise engaged, perhaps we can persuade him to join us in attending the ball."

He leveled a look on Lady Alana that was very stern, daring her to deny him. She saw through his ruse, though, and a certain amount of pleading in his gaze touched her, despite her earlier irritation with him.

Lady Alana treated him to one of her rare smiles. "Only if you promise to attend the conversation around you, Rothburn. Rudeness will not be allowed." She spoke lightly, yet there was an undercurrent of determination in her voice, not missed by Rothburn.

He nodded his acquiesce and the foursome proceeded along the narrow path, engaging in a most delightful hour of spirited discourse. It did not occur to him that he'd just relinquished control to the woman without a murmur. He, who always gave orders, apparently now took them from the lovely Lady Alana.

* * * * *

"What can I say Old Fellow? I cannot believe you have actually fallen!" Sir Gordon sat, drink in hand, comfortably ensconced in his favorite arm chair while Rothburn paced the room. "I wish you the best of it, but Alana has never given any suitor encouragement. I'm not sure it is wise to—" Gordon stopped as the earl interrupted with a bellow.

"Wise!" Rothburn looked askance at his friend, then continued. "What the devil has wise to do with anything? Do you believe I wanted this? I stood in this very room the other day telling you I'd
not
be leg-shackled!"

He studiously avoided remembering to whom he would not be leg-shackled during that particular conversation. "I tell you, this is misery. What shall I do? I cannot just abandon Lady Eleanor. We've had an understanding these past four years. She has waited patiently. My mother will have fits. I am—"

"A man bloody well grown!" Sir Gordon, in his turn, interrupted his friend. "Are you saying that Lady Alana, whose blood lines and reputation are impeccable, would not suit your mother?"

There was a hint of enmity in his tone that was not lost on Rothburn, who looked sharply at the knight for a long moment before he answered.

"I am saying," he spaced his words out through gritted teeth, not in anger, but in a show of absolute patience, "that my mother has chosen for me. I have, perhaps like an idiot, gone along and never gainsaid her. It would be foolish of me to do so now."

"Well, then don't, for heaven's sake. Surely even you know that love is not what peers marry for. You will just have to bear the cross—"

Rothburn interrupted Sir Gordon with a vehement thrust of his hand, staying the other's words before he could complete his thought. "I am very much aware of what I must do. It is not what I must do that I am concerned about. It is Lady Alana's feelings. I cannot in good conscience say that I have not given her some hope of an alliance—"

Interruptions seemed to be the order of this conversation, for Sir Gordon once again forestalled Rothburn's completion of his sentence, this time with a voice raised enough to be heard throughout the house. "No male of this family has given you leave to court Lady Alana. Whatever do you mean by this?"

His face red and angry, Sir Gordon took a threatening step toward his friend, "Have you compromised her, sir?" Sir Gordon had conveniently forgotten his indulgent comments of a few minutes before regarding the matter.  "How could you be so callous?"

His sudden turnabout startled the earl and made him angry as well as confused. A bellow of sound erupted from Rothburn's throat equal to that of Gordon. "What? How could you think it? I have merely conversed with her a few times. And, I'll admit, I did kiss her once or twice."

He held up a staying hand as Sir Gordon advanced on him again, "But, the lady was willing, and she is hardly a school miss."

He finished quickly and stepped away as Sir Gordon, whose height and breadth matched his own, came fully face to face with him, eyes bulging with temper.

"I cannot believe you would take advantage of a lady of breeding, one who is my very own relative. This is inexcusable behavior, sir!"

Truth be known, Sir Gordon was a little surprised at his violent reaction. His inner longing for Lady Eleanor, not acted upon in view of his friend's attachment, had gone wanting.

Now he was forced to realize that it was not Lady Alana he was defending, but Lady Eleanor. He could not bear to see her hurt, but he would welcome a situation that would free her from Rothburn. He would not tell Rothburn this, of course, for it would tip his hand.

There was nothing for it but to brave it out. Too late to recall his hasty temperamental words, he tried to smooth things over with a suggestion that served his own purposes exactly. "Since you have not seen fit to commit yourself these last years to Lady Eleanor, perhaps you should release her from her alliance with you."

His voice was just a bit sly as he continued, "After all, if it is Alana you are pining for, you should at least be honest with Lady Eleanor."

"Pining for? Are you mad? Does kissing a lady in the garden depict pining?" Rothburn sneered delicately and withdrew to the other side of the room. "Just because my feelings have been engaged to a further extent than I would wish, does not mean that I pine!"