A Rose in Winter (37 page)

"I assure you, milord, I am quite well escorted," she insisted. "You needn't have a care."

"Nonsense, child." He dismissed her statement with a wave of his lacy handkerchief. "If you were being looked after, you'd not be standing here alone. Why, any disreputable scoundrel could whisk you off, and no one would ever know."

"How true!" Erienne mused derisively.

Suddenly Talbot waved to someone across the room, and Erienne spotted three richly garbed men, each with a lavishly gowned woman on his arm. One of them returned Nigel's gesture and pointed toward the entrance with a leering, knowing grin; then as a body the three couples moved in that direction.

"Come, my dear," Nigel commanded, assuming Erienne's assent. She opened her mouth to protest, but a waggled finger in front of her nose silenced her. "I really must have a care for Avery's daughter. I will hear no more of you staying here alone."

"Lord Talbot, I am not alone!" she cried in desperation.

"Most assuredly not while I'm with you, my dear." He tucked her hand beneath his elbow and held it firmly in place as he half dragged her through the crowd. "You know, I was really quite miffed that your father chose to put you on the block without consulting me. I am sure we could have arrived at some equitable arrangement."

Erienne tried to give him as much resistance as she could without creating a scene. "I don't think my father was aware that you were seeking a wife."

"Heaven forbid!" Lord Talbot chortled. "The thought of marriage never entered my mind."

" 'Twas a condition of the roup," Erienne panted as she was towed rudely along.

"Tish, tosh!" Talbot sneered airily. "A few hundred pounds would have settled your father on that score."

They were in the foyer, and as they passed a slim column, she hooked an arm around it. With that anchor, she snatched her other arm free and immediately feared that she had left some skin behind.

Talbot faced her with a brow raised in surprise and, at her glare, hurried to explain in a conciliatory manner. "I only meant, my dear child, that you might have occupied a quite ... ah ... special place in my household. I'm sure you would have preferred it above your present situation. Avery should never have forced you to wed that scarred beast of a man."

A deepening pink hue was creeping upward from the top of Erienne's gown. "My husband may be scarred, sir, but he is not a beast."

"My dear girl." His eyelids lowered as he savored the beauty her anger roused. "I only wish to assure you that should the horror of your bondage become more pressing than you can bear, such a position in my household could still be arranged. I, for one, do not consider marriage to be a blemish, as many do."

He snapped his fingers loudly, winning the attention of the butler away from several guests who were just entering. "My cloak and hat," he demanded arrogantly, "and fetch the Lady Saxton's too."

"Really, Lord Talbot!" Erienne protested vehemently. "I cannot go with you! I am here with the Leicesters, and they will be most distraught if they cannot find me."

"Calm your fears, child," Lord Talbot soothed. "I shall leave a message informing them that you have departed with me and"—he smiled down at her sanguinely—"that you are receiving only the best of care. Now come, my dear, my friends are waiting in the carriage."

He caught her arm as she tried to turn away, and he ignored her attempts to pry his fingers away.

"Please!" she gritted out in an anxious whisper. She tried to twist her arm free, fearful of rousing the ire of such a powerful man, but also determined to stay where she was. "You are hurting me!"

A man detached himself from the new arrivals and approached the butler, who was in the process of handing the cloaks, cane, and hat to Lord Talbot. As the man neared, his own cloak slipped from his arm, falling at his lordship's feet. He bent to scoop up the garment, and when he straightened, his head struck Talbot's forearm with enough force to break his grip on Erienne. She was thrust away by the intruding body and, seeing the opportunity granted her, lifted her skirts and fled without a backward glance. The man's plunge continued upward, his shoulder striking Talbot in the ribs, then his arm caught solidly beneath the sagging chin. With a loud "clop" Talbot's mouth closed, and he staggered backward on high gilt heels to slam against the wall. He clapped a hand over his bruised mouth and hopped forward, teetering on one foot as he strove to regain his balance until the other man caught his arm with almost undue force; then he was held in check with one foot clear of the floor and one shoulder strained high.

"My apologies, sir," his assailant cajoled.

Lord Talbot looked in horror at the blood in his palm. "I bi' my ton', you damn foo'!"

The man released his grasp, and his lordship nearly fell at the sudden lack of support. He was caught again, this time a bit more gently. "I really am sorry, Lord Talbot. I hope you are not seriously injured."

Talbot's head snapped up, and his eyes widened as he recognized the tall form. "Seton! I thought it was some country oaf!" A quick vision of Farrell Fleming's half-cocked arm crossed his mind, and he dispensed with the possibility of an outright challenge.

Christopher faced the butler, laying his cloak over Erienne's, which the man still held, and nodding to the man to put them both away. Christopher grinned ruefully as he turned back to his lordship. "Again my apology, Lord Talbot. I must admit my eyes were on the lady you were with."

" 'Twas the mayor's daughter." Talbot's tone was brusque and curt. After searching the room and failing to catch any glimpse of her, he grunted in derision. "Or should I say, the Lady Saxton?"

"She is very lovely. But then, I expect Lord Saxton is more aware of that than anyone else."

" 'Twould seem that wealth agrees with the wench." He missed the slight lowering of the lids over the grayish-green eyes, and with a brief sigh he resigned himself to a momentary defeat. "For a man who can't even mount a horse, how can he do justice to that little filly?"

"Mount a horse?" Christopher repeated with a query.

"Aye! Tis rumored the man is too clumsy even to ride." Talbot gingerly tested a rib, worrying that it might be cracked. "If you will excuse me, Seton. I must repair my appearance."

"Of course, my lord." Christopher raised a hand to indicate to the butler, who held out a satin cloak. "If you're leaving, you'll no doubt be needing this."

Talbot loftily waved the servant away. "I've changed my mind. I shall be staying for a while." He smirked. "The filly has spirit. She should prove highly entertaining in a chase."

A corner of Christopher's mouth lifted in a meager smile. "I've heard Lord Saxton is quite adept with firearms. Be careful that you don't get clipped."

"Pah!" Talbot dabbed his handkerchief to his lips. "The man is so clumsy, he'd sound a warning a mile away."

Erienne anxiously searched until she found Anne seated with a couple at one of the small tables provided for the playing of cards. The older woman's face brightened when she saw her, and she patted the seat of the chair beside her invitingly.

"Sit here, my dear. You were gone so long, we were beginning to worry about you. I sent Phillip to find you, and now that you're here, you can join us."

Erienne disliked the reminder of what had ruined her father, yet after her recent experience with Lord Talbot, she was eager to accept the security of the woman's nearness. "I'm afraid I know nothing about the game."

"Triumph is quite simple, my dear," Anne assured her gaily. " 'Twill take you only a moment or two to learn, then you'll never want to stop."

The statement did not ease Erienne's qualms about the wickedness of cards, but considering them a lesser evil than what Lord Talbot had planned for her, she agreed to play. They entered the game, and though Erienne tried to concentrate on learning the rules, she was wary of those who paused to watch, until she was certain that none wore the silver satin that readily identified his haughty lordship. After playing a few hands, she was quite surprised to find that she was actually enjoying the game. She suffered a twinge of uncertainty, however, when Phillip returned to their table and requested a private word with his wife. Assurances were made of their quick return, and Erienne forced herself to relax as Anne excused herself. A new hand was dealt as another woman took the vacant seat.

The newcomer laughed apologetically. "I'm not very good at this."

Erienne smiled at the elegantly attired woman. "If you were, I'd be in trouble."

The two who completed the foursome exchanged confident nods. This promised to be an easy game for them.

"I am the Countess Ashford, my dear," the woman murmured with a gracious smile. "And you are... ?"

"Erienne, my lady. Erienne Saxton."

"You are very young," the countess observed, studying the creamy visage. "And very lovely."

"May I return the compliment?" Erienne replied without guile. Though perhaps between an age two score ten and three score, the countess possessed a serene beauty that the oncoming years could not tarnish.

"Shall we get started?" the man in their group suggested.

"Of course," the countess readily agreed, collecting her cards.

Erienne took the first bid and studied her cards intently until she sensed a presence at her back. Cautiously she paused, but out of the corner of her eye she saw a lean, darkly garbed leg and a black shoe. Her qualms eased. As long as it was not Lord Talbot, she was free to concentrate on the game. Not overly confident with it, she was worried over making the right play and thoughtfully fingered the knave of diamonds in her hand as she considered the possible repercussions for playing it.

"You'll do better with the king, my lady," the man behind her advised.

Erienne froze for an instant of time as the familiar voice scattered her thoughts. Her heart began to hammer wildly in her bosom, and her cheeks grew flushed. She had no need to see the man's face to know who stood at her back. She now felt his presence with every fiber of her being, and despite her shock, a growing, comforting warmth suffused her, thawing her stilted wariness. She quickly attributed the sensation to a feeling of security with him close at hand, though the idea was contrary to her earlier experiences with the worldly Christopher Seton.

She glanced up to see if any of her companions had taken note of her discomposure. The gently smiling eyes of the countess rested on her, and in a soft voice, she reminded, "Your play, my dear."

Erienne dropped her gaze to her cards. Her family could attest to the fact that Christopher was knowledgeable at cards, and his advice could be trusted. With sudden decision she thrust the knave back into the hand and played the king. A queen fell, and when all the cards were down, she had won the round and the tokens.

The Countess Ashford chuckled. "I think I would do well, sir, if I let you play this game. I have always preferred to watch people matching wits against each other and not against me."

"Thank you, madam," Christopher flashed the woman a charming grin as he dragged up a chair beside Erienne. "I hope I shall prove worthy of your confidence."

"I have no doubt that you will, sir."

Erienne sent a cool glance skimming over him as he took the seat beside her. The memory of his intrusion in her dreams was not dimmed when she saw how crisply tailored and handsome he was in the dark blue silk and flawless white shirt.

Christopher's eyes gleamed as they lightly caressed her in return, and he gave a brief nod of greeting. "Good evening, my lady."

Erienne stiffly inclined her head. "Sir."

He introduced himself to the others and, taking up the pack, began to shuffle the cards. His lean, brown fingers worked with dexterity, giving Erienne cause to believe that her father was either blind or a fool not to have recognized the man's skill. But then, perhaps Avery had been too intent on cheating to notice anything.

"What are you doing here in London?" she asked, carefully guarding her tone so it might sound gracious. "I thought you would be in Mawbry, or Wirkinton... or some such place."

Christopher began to deal, but his attention never strayed far from her. She was quite lovely in her finery, and his gaze eagerly feasted on the beauteous fare. "I saw no reason to stay when you weren't there."

Erienne's eyes swept about the table surreptitiously, finding the two other players occupied with their cards. The countess calmly sipped a sherry that had been brought to her and for the moment seemed distracted, allowing Erienne the opportunity to frown a warning at Christopher. He smiled leisurely in reply, showing incredibly white teeth, and gestured to her cards.

"I believe 'tis your bid, my lady."

Erienne tried to concentrate on the cards, but the effort proved futile. She decided no bid at all was better than making a fool of herself.

"Pass."

"Are you sure?" Christopher asked solicitously.

"Quite sure." She pointedly ignored the mocking gleam in his eyes.

"You're not going to win that way," he chided. "Besides, I expected more of a challenge from you."

"Why don't you bid?" She arched a lovely brow, daring him in return.

"I thought I would," he replied easily and spoke his choice to the other couple. "Three."