A Pair of Rogues (15 page)

Aware that she had been holding her breath, Christina responded in kind. She raised the baby and bounced him before her face to cloak her shaken expression. “Yes, we were,” she said, “but you startled me. I am not terribly used to seeing men lurking behind the house. Fortunately, Robert Edward is never frightened by marauders.”

“I wasn’t lurking.” Ned’s lips gave a twist in response to her remark. “I make it a practice never to lurk.”

“Call it what you like.” Trying to hide her own grin, Christina raised a shoulder and tossed her nose in the air. “But approaching a person’s residence from the back seems a very havey-cavey business to me.”

“So does sneaking out of it in the middle of the night. You are one to talk, my dear.”

At this scarcely flattering reminder of her escapade, Christina stiffened.

“But, perhaps,” Ned said smoothly, “it was indelicate of me to mention that particular incident. I shall endeavor not to do so again. However, in exchange for my restraint, I shall expect you to exercise a similar one.”

“As if I would tell anyone what happened last night!”

Ned’s brows flew up. A sparkle lit his eyes. With mortification sweeping her body, Christina realized she had misunderstood his meaning.

“Oh, I never kiss and tell,” he said, and his voice was so low it brought a rapid throb to her ears. “Honor among rogues, you know.

“No, my dear” —with an abruptness that startled her, he reverted to his flippant manner—”the matter to which I was referring was my unconventional habit of entering this house through the rear for the purpose of visiting my godson unannounced.”

“One might wonder how you contrive to enter a house secretly with so many servants in it.”

“Ah. As to that, I have my ways.”

Christina threw him a chastising frown. “By that, I suppose you mean that you bribe them. Shall I tell my brother that his servants are not to be trusted?”

“Not unless you want to see them all put out in the streets without a character. Robert’s servants are all very good, Lady Chris. They know whom they can trust and who not.

“Am I not a family intimate?” Ned’s expression when he asked this was one of insulted innocence.

“Hmmmm.” Christina would not give him the satisfaction of an answer, but her lips longed to curve.

“I am becoming an intimate to one member at least.”

Christina’s heart began to flutter, but she told herself she must not fall into his trap of double-entendre again.

Adjusting the baby’s coverlet more securely about him, she merely inquired, “I hope you do not mean you have been seducing Dobbs? I wouldn’t have thought her your type.”

Ned cocked her a glance with one brow raised and an evil glint lodged in his eye. “Let us simply say that Dobbs and I have a comfortable understanding.”

His old roguish look was back. It struck dismay into her heart. He seemed so delighted to be suspected of the worst possible wickedness.

And, suddenly, she knew why his look distressed her so. He wanted her to know how little his kisses had meant.

Their lively encounter had lost its charm. Robert Edward felt heavy in her arms.

Ned must have noticed her sagging, for he offered to carry the baby, although he managed to hide his solicitude beneath more teasing.

“Are you going to allow me a visit with my godchild or not?” he complained, reaching out with both hands. “I have been as patient as I know how to be.”

At any other time, Christina might have prolonged their little game, but now, exhausted by her feelings, she merely acquiesced. Whether Ned had meant to warn her against caring for him or not, she had no wish to come between him and the baby. She knew what comfort Robert Edward could bring, and something told her that Ned needed him just as much as she.

Nothing should have kept her from going inside at that moment, but instead, she strolled up and down, watching Ned lure chuckles from the baby, wondering with a heart full of pain whether he would ever father children of his own.

*    *    *

Up in her room after Sir Anthony’s brief visit, Louisa gazed down on the pair from her window and pensively chewed her bottom lip.

She had spied Ned as soon as he had approached the gate from the mews and with a growing sense of dismay had noted his hesitation. When he had nearly gone away, it had taken all her restraint not to open the casement and call out to him to stop.

It did not take a genius to see that something had passed between these two, which both were at pains to ignore. Christina’s smiles were brilliant when they fell upon any gentleman other than Ned. The casual glances Ned threw her way betrayed nothing but an arrogant boredom. It was only when neither thought the other was watching that Louisa was able to spy the feelings they tried so hard to hide.

Louisa’s instincts had told her they would be a perfect match. What Ned needed was a woman who would keep him too busy to get up to his own mischief. He needed someone to keep him on his toes, someone for whom to be responsible, until he could forget the misdemeanors of his past and begin to see himself in a new light.

His enchantment with her baby had told Louisa how much he longed to have a family of his own to love and protect. The trouble was that most girls’ parents felt the need to guard their daughters from him, with the result that Ned had no one looking to him for protection.

Robert’s admission that Christina posed a challenge too great for one man had given Ned the excuse he needed to form an attachment. That he had been attracted to Christina from the start had been evident from that first day in the Abbey, for Louisa had never seen him so out of sorts. And she had not failed to notice Christina’s flutterings the first time Ned’s name was raised. Who better to appeal to a clever hoyden than a rogue who could match her every step? But two such sadly muddled beings could never be left alone to discover their fate.

Now, it seemed that something had happened to put Ned, at least, on guard against his feelings. Something the previous night, when he had brought Christina home. And Christina had been so affected by whatever it was, she had almost betrayed herself this morning.

Their affair was at a critical stage. One wrong step or push could destroy their only chance at happiness. The hint of a poorly timed opposition, an inkling of suspicion that they were being manipulated by Louisa, or even a quirk in either’s personality could cause a major breach.

Nurse’s tip, about the hour Ned could usually be expected to visit Robert Edward, had paid off today. At least, the two were speaking, even if every posture or gesture revealed their nervous restraint.

Christina’s own ball was approaching. Louisa could only hope that the sight of Christina in her most beautiful gown, surrounded by scores of admirers, would make Ned forget his tarnished reputation long enough to declare his heart.

Chapter Eight

According to the daily journals, Christina’s ball was to be the most talked about event of the season. Invitations had made their way across London to more than four hundred illustrious guests: society’s
grandes dames,
the government’s most prominent lords and ministers, as well as fashionable wits and famous men of letters. Among this number was the Prince Regent who, according to his nearest intimates, planned to make a late appearance.

Her Grace of Broughton had spared no expense either on lavish decorations or the tastiest refreshments to charm her company. The walls of the drawing room and dining parlor had been draped with fine layers of gauze and decked with garlands of fresh, spring blossoms to represent a faerie dell, while hundreds of lighted candles added sparkle to the magical illusion.

A horde of servants had been taken on in addition to the not-inconsiderable staff of Broughton House to bring this wonder about. They glided through the packed, glittering rooms, dispensing champagne of good vintage and serving a delectable array of
canapés
from trays.

As Ned entered the drawing room that night, long after the receiving line had been dispersed, he saw that the gossip-mongers had been right. Judging by the crush of bodies he’d just made his way through, no one of any note had refused Louisa’s summons. The only clear spots on the floor were those that intermittently appeared between the dancing pairs, as each abandoned one position in favor of another in accordance with the steps.

Determined as he was not to show any partiality for Christina beyond the courtesy due the guest of honor, Ned found that his eagerness to see her could not be quelled. He searched the room until he saw her, weaving through the set on her partner’s arm.

He took a deep, hasty breath.

Just as the walls had been adorned to resemble a woodland fantasy, Christina herself had been dressed as a faerie queen. Her fine, flaxen hair lay in a soft fringe about her face, with the rest left to sweep her shoulders. It gleamed like gold in the light from the candles. Her skin, as fair and delicate as parchment, reflected the soft, warm glow from the chandeliers.

As Ned stood, watching the play of light and shadow across her cheeks, the curve of her downcast lids, and the fragility of her smile, something inside him turned over.

Abruptly, he wrenched away, and stopping a passing servant, helped himself to champagne. He would not have to mount guard over Christina this evening. Broughton House had been constructed with no terrace, and the garden had no high shrubbery in which a couple might lose themselves. With such a lively throng inside, there would be no alcoves in which to hide.

Ned strolled about the room, greeting acquaintances and pausing now and then to talk, while a swirling agitation churned inside him. He yearned for just one waltz with Christina, though he was certain all her dances would have been claimed. He had purposely arrived too late to face that temptation, but it had hounded him all the distance between his house and here. And now he cursed himself for spoiling his one chance.

Tonight was Christina’s ball. Surely, as an old friend of her brother’s, he might have been allowed one dance without causing tongues to wag.

Lost in these musings, Ned was startled by Louisa’s voice at his side.

“Does she not look divine?”

He had not realized he’d been staring at Christina again. Caught, he did his best to sound nonchalant. “She is. You have done quite well by her, Louisa.”

Her worried sigh alarmed him. “I do so hope you are right. But I cannot be happy with Robert’s plans.”

“Oh?” Ned feigned a humor he did not feel. “Has he found a new Buffington to woo her?”

“Yes, although I should be happier if the gentleman were Lord Buffington. Robert has decided that Christina needs an older man to govern her.”

“Perhaps he’s right.” With a half-shrug, he turned and saw that Louisa was gazing sadly at him.

“Not you, too?” she said, disappointment in the slow shake of her head. “I had counted you among her friends.”

Ned dropped his glance to the glass in his hand. He tossed it back before discovering it was empty. “Why shouldn’t she marry an older man?”

“Someone who is not of her own choosing? She would be miserable.”

“So, Robert has chosen her a husband?”

“I think he has. He has become impatient with her for refusing so many offers.”

Ned’s hand suddenly shook. “How many have there been?”

“Quite a number. And several of those from eligible gentlemen. But Christina still fails to show a decided partiality for any one of her suitors. Although . . . .” With a guilty glance his way, followed by a puzzled frown, Louisa cut off her speech.

“Although . . . “ he prompted.

Fumbling nervously with the lace at her breast, Louisa avoided his eyes. Ned fixed them firmly on her face, until she gave up with a sigh.

“If you must know, I think she might have developed a
tendre
for someone, but I cannot say who.”

Ned’s heart gave a jerk, but he concealed it with a smile. “Cannot or will not?”

“I do not know his name. And I will not pry into Christina’s confidence.”

The smile abandoned him. “It is just as well. He is quite likely to be unsuitable.”

Louisa straightened, tilting her nose in the air. “I am not so doubtful of her judgment. If she has determined that only one man can make her happy, I am certain she is right, and I cannot bear the thought of her being wed to someone for whom she can only feel disgust.”

A sickening wave roiled up inside him. “Robert would never force her into such a match.”

“No. But he can bring such pressure to bear that she will decide to submit to his wishes rather than be an endless burden to her brother.”

“You are being nonsensical.”

“I am not! That is how women think.”

A rush of pure, male irritation made Ned snarl, “But why would Christina be so stupid?”

To his surprise, a glimmer of tears came into Louisa’s eyes. “If the gentleman she loves does not declare himself, what other choice will she have?”

A sudden fear seized his heart. He had never imagined Christina’s future. He had been far too busy guarding her reputation from willful indiscretion ever to give her future a thought. He had regarded her marriage as the successful end of the season, even though he, along with Robert, had failed to think of any candidate for her hand who possessed just the right combination of dignity and experience.

Now, he realized how short his sight had been. Christina would need more than just a guardian. She would need a companion for life, someone to laugh and make love with. Someone to share her pride in their children. Someone to hold her through misfortune and to cuddle with her on cold winter nights.

Someone to make her happy.

Louisa’s comment, that she suspected Christina of having developed feelings for an undisclosed gentleman, had made him wonder if the man could be himself. Surely, if he was the only man to have tapped into her passion—and he was almost certain he was—it would not be too terribly surprising if a young girl her age had mistaken such passion for love.

Ned fought the triumph that threatened to burst inside him. He knew it was shame he should be feeling. Shame for distracting her from the very serious business of finding a suitable husband.