A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) (6 page)

The pair had been friends too long to allow even this heated argument to spoil their relationship. Time and distance was needed here. Time to cool down and distance in which to do so.

The earl said, "I think we should join the company now. We have said enough on this subject, do you not agree?"

"Perhaps for the moment. But, as I admonished you earlier not to dally with my sister, I tell you now as well, do not do so with my aunt."

Having spoken, Sir Gordon stepped to the door and held it open in invitation for his friend to precede him from the room.

 Rothburn exited with a wry grin. As a parting shot, with raised eyebrows, he said, "Are you certain it is Lady Alana about whom you are concerned, old fellow?"

He had the satisfaction of seeing a full blush come over the other's features before he made a hasty retreat to the drawing room.

Close on his heels, Sir Gordon hissed, "I know not what you mean by that, but we will have this finished later. I am too angry to pursue it at the moment and so are you. This conversation is not done, to be sure."

In truth, neither man was really angry now. But both were confused, and very much at odds with one another. Rothburn had known for some time his friend had more than a casual fondness for Lady Eleanor and knew as well that Sir Gordon was a gentleman. As such, he would never pursue his interest in another man's arena—especially if that other man were his best friend.

The earl began to wonder just what would happen if he were to throw the two of them together—with his blessing of course.

Perhaps he could rid himself of his unspoken attachment to Lady Eleanor, give his friend what he wanted most in life and be free to pursue his own interests at will.

His
interests
being the pursuit of Lady Alana.

Chapter Five

~~

Griffin sat next to Allie on the small settee near the fireplace, admiring her dimple and the spark of joy in her beautiful eyes. His interest in her had changed considerably—from seduction to courting—in the few hours he had known her. Something about her pulled at his spirit, drew the better part of him into the light.

How could he ever have thought to dally with this lovely young woman? Ashamed at his previous motives, Griffin frowned.

Allie looked over at the young man, noting his puckered brow. He was so well-mannered, so perfectly handsome, and, so seemingly gentle, she was beginning to falter from her other duties. For the last hour, she hadn't thought about the romantic entanglements of her brother and her aunt. She could only concentrate on Griffin George, a man who made her heart beat faster, and for once, she was almost tongue-tied with shyness.
Almost
.

"So you are just up from the country for the season? You do not normally stay here?" Griffin queried the object of his affection with idle curiosity while watching the flames of the fireplace dance in her eyes. Suddenly the air in the room became very close and he pulled at his cravat, slightly displacing the carefully folded linen.

"I come here once or twice a year. But this is my first Season. Do
you
come here often, Griffin?" Allie, as enamored of Griffin as he was of her,  failed to notice the arrival of her brother and the earl. For once, Allie was concentrating on furthering her own love life.

"Not as often as I will in future. That is—if you are here." Nearly blushing at his bold words, Griffin seemed to have lost what town polish he had gained in the last several years. "I find that our excursion this afternoon was possibly the most blissful experience of my life. Ah—the part about meeting you, that is."

Allie had him blushing and stuttering, for goodness sakes. He could barely think of anything sensible to say in her presence. Continuing with the inane, he queried her further, hoping to regain some of his seductive powers by the sheer passing of time. Of course, this did not happen. Especially with her aunt staring daggers at him.

Sitting directly across from the young pair, Lady Alana looked up sharply at his words, her eyes trained on Griffin. Although she liked him and wanted to nurture his interest in Allie, she must act the outraged chaperon and keep him in line.

Allowing him to think that such comments would go undetected was an invitation to disaster. Keep him on a leash, she decided. Keep him off balance. Then she began to wonder of whom she thought. Was it Griffin or his cousin Rothburn that she wanted to keep off-balance?

For the life of her, Alana could not make a decision. The object of her reflections came to sit beside her at that moment and her heart skipped a beat, her palms suddenly damp while the warmth of a blush crept into her cheeks.

Mortified at her reaction to the earl, Lady Alana was a bit sharp in her response when he asked that she save him a dance. "If you get to my dance card in time, you will have a dance."

She then gave him with a troubled gaze, as if she were undecided.

In view of his rather pathetic frown, she relented. "Although I seldom see my dance card filled these days. I'm sure there will be a dance for you Rothburn. Let's make it a waltz. You do waltz beautifully, you know."

The infatuated earl brightened considerably at those words and endeavored to make himself agreeable to all present.

Sir Gordon watched the pair closely, satisfied that his friend—though determined to avoid matrimony—would be easily maneuvered into wedding his aunt.

As for Lady Eleanor, he would be available to give her comfort.

When Sir Gordon had danced with Lady Eleanor she'd shown a marked interest in his conversation. As well, she'd trembled at his touch when he'd taken her hand and pulled her close for the waltz.

He was sure it had
not
been his imagination. There was hope that he might pursue her, but first Rothburn had to be distracted. Hence his growing attachment to Alana would be met with compliance. If necessary, Sir Gordon was prepared to force his friend into matrimony on threat of alienation of affection.

Seeing his chance of happiness lay only with the woman he loved, Sir Gordon was prepared to do just about anything to bring this to a satisfactory conclusion.

Allie sat, spine stiff and shoulders held at a rigid angle, in the posture that was considered correct for ladies. Her head was nearly splitting from the effort of following the inane conversation going on around her. Not one whit of juicy gossip had she heard this past hour. Only dull stuff about Parliament, reform bills and such.

Spending time with her aunt unfortunately included such fare as this soirée for the intellectual ladies of the
ton
. Most disgustingly boring for a young miss whose greatest interests lay in romantic alliances and who was squiring whom to what ball.

She was sure her chances with Griffin might be spoiled should he discover that she had attended such an event as this.

The other night he had gone on for hours about how women should be
led by their superior male counterparts
. Then he'd shown a deal of disgust with what he termed as the
bluestocking crows
that had become popular of late in the drawing rooms of society. Allie wanted to keep the interest of her newfound love and had tried to beg off coming here, to no avail.

"Allie, are you ill?" Lady Alana asked. "Are you faint?"

Allie gazed at her with what she hoped was a pitiful stare, seeing her chance to cut short this horribly boring outing. "I feel a dreadful headache coming on. Do you think it would be terribly rude if I went home?"

"Better you go lie down for awhile Miss Pendleton." Her hostess, one Lady Cropham,  was quick to intervene, not wanting to lose the company of Lady Alana—a staunch ally on many causes—and an interesting conversationalist into the bargain. "I'll have a maid show you the way."

Her voice brooked no argument and Allie had no choice but to assent.

As she followed the maid from the room, Allie noticed for the first time the presence of Lady Eleanor on the far side of the area, eagerly engaged in debate among a different group.

Imagine that! Lady Eleanor had never appeared to be an intellectual. Allie thought it most strange —her eager imagination darting here and there as possibilities arose from this discovery.

She followed the maid to an upstairs room and watched as the maid pulled the curtains,  then drew back the Duvet. The silent maid did a quick curtsey and motioned for Allie to lie down, which she did.

Gratefully, Allie accepted the cool cloth offered and placed it upon her brow as she slid down the pillows in the darkened room. Imagination sparking or not, she still had a lingering headache. She had not eaten in hours and stopped the departing maid requesting a small tea be sent up, stating her hope that it would quell the headache.

Although there had been small cakes, fruit compotes  and drinks served upon their arrival, Allie had not partaken, being miffed at the time and unable to eat when she was upset. Now, however, with the advent of interest having been served by her recent discovery of Lady Eleanor, her appetite had returned.

Bobbing a curtsey and smiling sympathetically, the maid quit the room, closing the door firmly and leaving Allie in near darkness. She closed her eyes and began to work her imagination, applying what she already knew of the interests of the persons involved.

First there was her brother, Sir Gordon, deeply in love with Lady Eleanor, yet afraid to make it known because of her attachment to Rothburn. Also Gordon thought himself unsuitable—just as he thought her unsuitable, due to lack of title.

Botheration!

Though she loved him dearly, Allie could not help being a bit put out with Sir Gordon, who proved stubborn in this matter. Of course, he had danced with the lady—perhaps here was hope.

Then there was Aunt Alana, whose denials were belied by her growing attachment to the earl.  Just this morning Allie had caught her aunt gazing into the mirror with such a look that it made one wonder if she had lost her senses.

When questioned, Alana had stated she thought she might be getting more wrinkles and Allie would know soon enough the agonies of aging.

It had been Allie's considered opinion that her aunt had been contemplating a change of coiffure followed by some woolgathering that had left her with a decidedly moonstruck appearance.

The fact that Lady Alana had a small miniature of the Sixth Earl of Rothburn on her dresser was a bit suspicious. Where the small painting had come from was a mystery as well. It had not been there the day before.

And there was Lord Rothburn himself. Arrogant and rude—had he not professed Allie to be  a boring school room miss? It rankled her no end that he should state this to her very own aunt and for a moment she was sidetracked by the thought of giving the earl a well deserved setdown.

Of course, she discarded this idea almost immediately as it would serve no purpose in her plotting. Although Allie still had an interest in the love affairs of the others, her main purpose had shifted from matchmaking for her aunt and her brother to catching a husband for herself.

Her new endeavor was to enlist the aid of Griffin in her intrigues in order that they might spend more time together. Then he would, hopefully, develop a taste for matrimony with her.

Griffin, of the dynamic and scholarly bearing, the romantic and flowery phrases, the new man of her heart. Griffin, constantly in her thoughts for the last two weeks.

 As Allie's mind whirled with the possibilities, she eventually grew sleepy and drifted off, never hearing the maid who placed a tray of iced cakes and tea near her bed. The maid, for her part, chose not to wake the young miss who looked quite comfortable and not a bit hungry.

A murmur of voices drifted into Allie's consciousness wakening her. She sat up and attended them.

More possibilities! How marvelous, she thought, as her Aunt's voice drifted from the next room where the adjoining door had been left ajar.

* * * * *

"Really, Eleanor. You have no notion what you are saying! The earl is just a friend. I have no idea of attaching his affections. How can you say so?" Alana lied through her teeth, eyeing her rival with solemnity.

"That is not what I heard,
dear
Alana. How came you to be in the garden with the earl if you are as innocent as you profess to be?"

Lady Eleanor's voice was merely amused, to the surprise of both Allie, listening covertly, and Alana, standing before her.

"Well, we were just discussing politics, if you must know." Lady Alana drew a breath and went on quickly, "I am interested in the bill he has set before Parliament—you know the one. Catholics in government?"

"Oh my, yes. I've heard no end of his discourse on that subject, to be sure. I, for one, am bored to tears by all this government trivia," Lady Eleanor commented, looking clever.

Her remark caused Lady Alana's countenance to draw into a fierce frown, then her eyebrows shot up, as though she'd been taken completely by surprise at the other woman's next comment.

"It appears that you are not bored at all. Could it be a ruse to draw the earl's attention?"

Allie held her breath, praying the two women would not discover her at the door, for she could not bear to walk away, though she knew she ought. From what she perceived, they were sparring to a purpose, and neither woman seemed aware of the other's intent.

Her aunt's slightly raised voice caught her attention and Allie peered even further around the door in a bold attempt to miss not a word.

"Ruse? You accuse me of a ruse? You, who never before has set foot in one of these afternoon intellectual gatherings? Tell me,
dear
Eleanor, why have you chosen to do so today and what is your purpose in following me up here?" Lady Alana scored a mark on her adversary, and was well pleased with it, until she heard the answering comment.