A Gallant Gamble (9 page)

Olivia shook her head and then moaned as the apparent pain lanced her temple.

“No, I forbid you to leave until after the Prince dances with Charlotte, a thing he is sure to do as he loves nothing better than a stunningly beautiful woman. He won’t be able to resist her charms and her chances of an even better match will be increased exponentially. All the most eligible bachelors will be there. We cannot let this opportunity pass.”

Geoffrey felt a headache of his own coming on until Charlotte spoke with a hint of annoyance in her tone.

“Olivia, as much as you may feel that finding a husband for me is the best future I can hope for, I am disinclined to agree with you. I do not want to marry. I certainly do not want to marry any of the less than adequate fools who pass for gentlemen, that I have met so far this week. None would suit me at all so it hardly matters if I dance with the Prince or not. I agree with Geoffrey that we should all leave together.”

Geoffrey didn’t know if Charlotte had made him feel any better with her choice of words, but at least he was sure that she was not attracted to any other man in particular. He only hoped that she remained of the opinion that she could manage her life on her own, for though he knew that he could not have her, he didn’t think he could bear to see her become the wife of another either.

The very thought of her with another man made his knees turn weak. It had been bad enough watching her being danced off her feet by all and sundry this last week. Fortunately she hadn’t been granted leave to waltz yet. He wasn’t sure how he would be able to cope when she was. He’d had no idea that the dance was so intimate. He’d yet to try it himself but it appeared to be easy enough. One, two three and sweep the lady around, one hand tightly on her waist and the other gripping her fingers. Of the one or two couples he saw dancing it well, he had noticed that the gentleman appeared to guide with his thighs too, pressing them into his partners skirts as they whirled about the room.

Heat suffused the whole of his body. No man was going to dance with her like that unless it was himself. He’d kill any who tried. Charlotte suddenly looked up at him and for a moment he wasn’t sure why until he heard the growl that seemed to emanate from his own throat. He gave a belated cough and topped up her sherry to cover his indiscretion. 

The Latham’s dinner had been a lively affair. Charlotte had been placed near the head of the table due to her association with the Duchess. Geoffrey sat just a few seats down on the opposite side of the table. His raven haired dinner companion had monopolised his conversation and Charlotte had barely exchanged a glance with him.

She rolled her eyes as the man at her side placed his hand just above her knee for what felt like the fiftieth time. Apart from worrying over grease marks on her gown, she was completely fed up with his less than gentlemanly antics. She slipped her dessert fork into her right hand and sparkled up at Lord Latham at the head of the table as she stabbed the man at her side hard in his left thigh.

He let out a high pitched yelp and his hand quickly disappeared from her leg as Charlotte offered her sincere apologies for dropping her cutlery.

“I am so sorry! My fingers must be greasy from the duck. I do beg your pardon, Lord Ainsworth. I hope I have not injured you grievously.” She fluttered her eyelashes at the man as he gulped back the pain of the spearing.

“Think nothing of it, my dear.” He hissed and shook his head while he gritted his teeth and pretended that he was well able to ignore such a painful stabbing, but Charlotte wasn’t done with the odious man. She pouted a pretty smile at him.

“It is fortunate that you are not so well endowed or it might have been more than a little prick that you received.” She arched her eyebrows virtuously and whispered loudly enough so that several in the vicinity could overhear.

Geoffrey almost spat out his peach pudding, such was the guffaw that nearly broke past his lips. The dark haired lady who had talked his ear off all evening attempted to gain his attention yet again, but Geoffrey shrugged off her questing fingers that reached for his thigh and listened to Charlotte again. This time she placed her hand on Lord Ainsworth’s arm and spoke earnestly. “Or perhaps you dress to the right, in which case it is just as well that I am seated above you at the table. Being lower down the pecking order may have saved your family jewels.” Her hand flew to her mouth as Lord Ainsworth let out a strangled harrumph and turned a bright shade of pink.

Charlotte took out her fan and wafted it vigorously, catching the attention of over half the table before she spoke from behind it.

“I do apologise most profusely. Clearly you dress to the left and I have skewered more than meets the eye. Never fear, your secret is safe with me, your Lordship. If your wife or any of your mistresses ask why you are not dancing later this evening I will let them know that it was all my fault and that you met with a tiny accident that has left you incommoded for the foreseeable future.” Ainsworth now turned purple and Charlotte immediately gasped out, “Oh heavens! Just think what a lucky escape you have had. Imagine if the fork had punctured your hand where it lay on my knee. You might have been unable to ride or draw forth your sword with any prowess.” She blinked in youthful innocence at the man who now sat squirming in his seat.

Several of the ladies tittered behind their gloved hands and many of the men shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, clearly removing straying fingers from numerous knees. Geoffrey glanced down at his dark haired companion, picked up his pudding fork and twirled it in his fingers. The lady’s eyes widened and she inched back as her hand suddenly appeared above the table cloth. Geoffrey raised his glass fractionally in Charlotte’s direction and smiled at her for the first time that evening.

Lady Latham looked along the table. Most of the company had stopped eating. She narrowed her eyes fractionally at Charlotte before standing up and leading the ladies from the room. Charlotte completely ignored her host’s directive and lingered long enough for Geoffrey’s dinner companion to leave before her. When the lady turned back to give Geoffrey a languorous smile Charlotte was right behind her, glowering at the flirtatious woman.

The ball began in earnest as the men rejoined the ladies. Other guests began arriving and the noise and general excitement increased dramatically as the music began and the ladies filled their dance cards.

Geoffrey stood behind Olivia and Charlotte as they sat together at the edge of the ballroom. Being the most beautiful woman in the room, Charlotte’s card had been filled quickly and Geoffrey ground his teeth at the thought of how many men would touch her hands that night. She had only two spaces left and both of them were waltzes. Olivia pressed her lips together and stood up.

“This is just not good enough. Lady Latham promised me that she would make sure that you were allowed, my dear. Stay here while I find the woman and gain your permission. We can’t have the Prince asking you to dance and you being ruined when you have to refuse him. Geoffrey, put your name in both those spaces so that no other men think that they may take advantage of them.” She snatched up Charlotte’s dance card and handed him the pencil.

Geoffrey felt his cheeks heat as he stared down at Charlotte’s list of partners. There were two Dukes, a Marquis, three Earls and more Lords than he cared to count. He added a Mister, twice, and handed the filled card back to Charlotte.

“Your feet are going to be aching.” He grumbled as Olivia hurried off towards a group of gossiping women.

Charlotte sighed and fanned her flushed cheeks.

“I can feel the pain already. I’d give anything for a night off. Olivia has been an absolute darling, but I’ve not had a moment to myself since we arrived.”

Geoffrey glared ferociously at a young man who had been about to approach, and didn’t speak again until the interloper had scuttled back, red faced, to his laughing companions.

“I know exactly how you feel. I am looking forward to Giles arriving more than I can say.”

Charlotte sighed deeply.

“At least you can go home then. I fear that I will be trapped here for several weeks longer, though that may make it possible for me to find a buyer for the diamond. All of Alexander’s recommendations have failed. I will have to ask privately now.”

Surprised that she mentioned the fabulous stone in public, Geoffrey leaned a little closer to her ear.

“I think that you should be careful who you approach about it. These people are loose lipped when in their cups. We don’t know who they consort with or who might discover that you have a priceless stone. We wouldn’t want you or Alexander’s house to become a target for thieves.”

Charlotte looked up at him and noticed the genuine concern reflected there. She smiled gratefully and pressed her hand to his for a second.

“Many appear to know of its existence already, Geoff. Even Lady Bowers has asked to see it. I fear that my dear departed brother was far more open with his friends than he perhaps should have been. He told many of the fabled diamond hidden at Caithwell to stave off his creditors. Several people have asked me about the rumours of its discovery.”

Geoffrey stood up straight and glanced suspiciously about the room. The eyes of three men were upon them. He stared them down before muttering again.

“Good God! Was the man daft? We’ll have half the felons in London at our windows.”

She shook her head and blinked back the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. While her brother had fallen into disgrace, he was still her brother.

“I think that John was more desperate than daft, but you have no reason to fear. The stone is hidden safely where no one will find it.” She blinked the water from her eyes and smiled brightly up at Geoffrey.

Geoffrey gripped the back of the chair as he hands began to shake. Her naivety scared him. She had no idea of the position she had put herself in.

“It’s not the safety of the damned diamond that I am worried about. If anyone thinks that you have it upon you, even if you don’t, you could become a target. There are many ways to force someone to confess where they have hidden something. I cannot protect you in this kind of crush. I don’t even have a weapon on me to defend you,” he hissed out his words as he scanned the ballroom again, suddenly alarmed at how out-numbered he felt. He didn’t even have a weapon to defend her with. “We should find Olivia and leave immediately.”

A young man suddenly appeared in front of them. He glanced at Geoffrey’s fearsome expression a little nervously before bowing to Charlotte.

“I believe I have this dance.” He held out his hand and Charlotte was about to reach out and take it when Olivia bustled through, brushing the gent from her path as she rushed excitedly up to Charlotte.

“I have it! Your permission to waltz has been granted, and just in time too...The Prince has arrived and demanded that the order of the evening be changed. He will be leading you out for the first waltz. Quickly, stand up, my dear. You are to be presented immediately. Come Mr. Talbot. I have gained you an audience too.”

Geoffrey blanched.

“Me? Why on earth does the Prince want to meet me?” He asked in confusion while being suddenly very glad that Coalport had persuaded him into the understated but fabulously opulent gold threaded waistcoat.

Olivia took hold of his arm and squeezed it gently.

“You are the best groomsman in the land, of course. Rumour has spread like wildfire since our first dinner party, just as I planned. Everyone is agog at your expertise and knowledge of horseflesh. The Prince has asked that you ride one from his own stable in Lord Davenport’s annual competition. It is a great honour. You’ll be feted about the land should you win.”

Geoffrey wiped his handkerchief across his rapidly dampening brow.

“And I’ll probably be put to the gallows if his horse breaks a leg. I’m good but I never professed to be the best at anything, and I never took part in a race in my life before. Lord Davenport’s course is reported to be the most difficult in England. Dear God alive! I don’t want to do this.”

Olivia stuck him lightly on his arm with her fan and held his gaze with a firm one of her own.

“Oh, believe me, you do. The prize is worth far more than a thousand guineas now. The whole ballroom is abuzz with the news. Bets are being laid at Whites as we speak. Come along. We must not keep His Highness waiting.” She turned, took Charlotte’s hand and fairly dragged her across the room. Geoffrey trailed miserably behind them while he gathered his wits and prepared to disappoint the Prince.

Twenty minutes later, a shocked Geoffrey stood against the wall while he watched the rotund, painted Prince whirl Charlotte about the room on surprisingly light feet. Men whom he had never seen in his life before gathered around and were presented to him for introductions. Ladies curtseyed as they hid behind their fans and fluttered their eyelashes at him. The raven haired woman, who had pawed his thigh throughout dinner and whose name he had already forgotten, now appeared again and attempted to drag him behind some tall, potted plants.

He managed to shake the enthusiastic lady off before she tried anything more daring and made his way back towards the dance floor. Olivia sat among the dowagers, nodding and smiling and generally appearing to be enjoying her triumph while Charlotte had just made her curtsey to the Prince and the more formal dances began. Charlotte disappeared in a mêlée of coloured silks as the general crowd began forming up and Geoffrey took up his place behind the women once again.