A Sisterly Regard (17 page)

Lady Mary and Mr. Farwell were sitting with the Duchess when
they entered the hallowed halls. Mr. Farwell promptly rose and bowed,
saying, "Ah, Miss Phaedra. I have been awaiting you. I wished to petition
you for the first waltz." He took her dance card from her hand. "And a
quadrille."

"And I for the second," came a voice from behind her. Lord
Wilderlake stood there.

She smiled. "How nice you both are. I had not thought to waltz
this evening, but..."

"But nothing, Miss Phaedra. I have been looking forward to this
evening since your ball," Wilderlake told her. "May I also request the first
country dance?"

"Of course." She smiled and handed him her dance card.

Colonel Peterson joined them just then. "Came to see if you
wished to give me a dance or two, young lady. Enjoyed your conversation
the other night. Wanted to continue it," he said with a scowl.

"Why yes, Colonel. I would enjoy it."

Several other gentlemen came up just then. Before she knew it,
her card was full and she had to refuse Lord Everingham a second set. She
could not believe that she had become so popular and told herself it was
because Chloe was not present. Had she been, the gentlemen would have
all preferred her company. To her surprise, none of them asked about
Chloe except Lord Wilderlake and Lord Everingham.

Mr. Farwell claimed her for the first waltz. "You seem to be
enjoying yourself," he said, as he spun her into the dance. "Could it be
that you can relax, now that you do not need to wonder what outrageous
act your sister will commit next?"

"Of course not. I am enjoying myself because I have had every
dance claimed and everyone is so kind. This past week..."

"This past week has been hellish for you hasn't it Phaedra?" he
asked when she said nothing more.

"How silly you are, Mr. Farwell" she replied, airily. "It has been
rather enjoyable. Of course, I have been worrying about my sister, but
Mama has said that I must not let her illness inhibit my social life."

"False coin, my dear. You have been snubbed and forced to turn
a deaf ear to hints of scandal. I'll wager that your sister is no more ill than I
am."

She was silent through several more turns. When she looked up
into his face, she saw none of the usual ennui, no scorn. Only sympathy.
"It has been horrible" she admitted. "How did you know?"

"I have eyes and ears. And I saw your sister's actions at the ball.
But come, let us not dwell on it. You have many friends who will stand by
you. Forget your sister and enjoy this evening for yourself. Be
happy."

"I would like that." She attempted to relax and enjoy the
dance.

Later Phaedra danced with Mr. Martin and with Lord
Everingham, who several times when the pattern brought them together
cleared his throat as if he was about to speak. Afterward he escorted her
back to her mama's side. As he bowed over her hand, he said, "Miss
Phaedra, I wonder if--" The rest of his words were lost as Lord
Wainwright joined them.

That young man was inclined to be heavy-footed, especially
upon his partner's toes. When the set ended, Phaedra wanted nothing
more than to sit a while and rest. Instead she waltzed with Lord
Wilderlake next, finding him light on his feet but somehow less exciting to
dance with than Mr. Farwell.

As they circled, he informed her that he would be away from
Town for a few days. " Please tell your sister t I hope she will be
recovered by the time I return to Town. I will call on her then."

"I shall. I, too, hope she will recover soon, but Mama thinks it
will be at least another week before she is able to have company."

To her great relief, the next set was promised to Colonel
Peterson, who asked her if she would mind sitting it out so they could
converse. The Colonel offered to fetch her some punch to drink while
they chatted and she gratefully accepted his offer. While she awaited his
return, she noticed Lord Everingham approaching her. His determined
expression brought a certain character to his sheeplike countenance.

Oh, no, I cannot listen to more of his concern for Chloe.
But
the young lord's path was blocked by Mr. Farwell, who grasped his arm
and held him while he spoke. Judging by Everingham's glare, he did not
care for what he was hearing. When he pulled away and attempted to
move in her direction once again, Phaedra realized that Mr. Farwell was
forcibly restraining the earl from approaching.

She watched with some curiosity as Mr. Farwell forced
Everingham into a chair and stood over him speaking with some emphasis.
The Colonel returned just then, and Phaedra was constrained to give him
her full attention, little as she wished to.

Reggie knew Phaedra was watching his encounter with
Everingham. A good thing she was seated far enough away that she would
not hear them. He leaned close to the earl, keeping his voice low. "You
young fool. You have already caused enough trouble for that family. You
danced with Miss Phaedra once, and that is enough. I will not have her the
object of your mother's vicious rumor mongering!"

"But I just wanted to talk to her about Chloe. There is no harm
in that. My mother would not mind." Everingham attempted once again
to approach Phaedra.

"We are not going to take the chance." Reggie tightened his
hold and forced him into a nearby chair. "Sit down, my lord, and listen to
me." He repeated some of the gossip he had heard just that evening.

"I say! No one would believe--"

"You think not? Perhaps you should listen more closely to what
is being said here tonight, then. Even in the clubs this afternoon, I heard
Miss Hazelbourne's name bandied about. I have no doubt that her behavior
at the Duchess' ball was a delicious tit-bit in many a drawing room, and
will continue to be the center of a storm of gossip until a new scandal
replaces it."

Everingham attempted to stand, but Reggie held him in the
chair. "You young fool! It is to your thoughtlessness that is to blame, as
much as Miss Hazelbourne's
naïveté
."

"I have done nothing wrong!"

"Perhaps not, but I have no doubt your mother was the source
of most of those rumors. Although, to give the devil his due, there are
many in the
ton
ready to embroider what they hear. They will
continue to do so, until Miss Chloe Hazelbourne's reputation is in shreds."
Seeing a stubborn denial on the younger man's face, he demanded," Who
took her into the shrubbery, out of sight and unchaperoned?"

"We only walked in the garden. All perfectly innocent."

"I don't doubt it. But your mother saw more than innocence,
and had no compunction about saying so publicly. You then compounded
the problem by dancing with her three times at the Duchess' ball. Worse
yet, you waltzed with her, a move of incredible stupidity. You knew she
hadn't permission to do so."

"But--"

"You know the rules, Everingham. You have been on the Town
these past three years, You must be aware of how the
ton
relishes even a hint of scandal. Miss Hazelbourne is in her first Season and
has never been in Society. She is the veriest innocent. If you did not mean
ill by her, you should have better protected her name. Now go away. I
want to take a nap." He sat in the chair next to Lord Everingham and let
his chin fall to his chest.

From under lowered lids, he watched Everingham return to his
mother's side, wearing a thoughtful expression. Whatever he said did not
please her. The glare she cast in Phaedra's direction was hot enough to
scorch.

* * * *

After her family abandoned her to disport themselves at
Almack's, Chloe realized she was to be incarcerated forever, and would
never be given another chance on the Marriage Mart. The next morning
she took matters into her own hands.

All was silent as she sat in her room, watching the clock. A note,
delivered to her by a conspiratorial Betty, had informed her that rescue
would be waiting in the mews at two o'clock in the morning. If she could
not escape from the house without being detected, she was to set two
candles in her window. On seeing the candles, her hero would depart, but
would return each night until she was able to meet him.

She was practically quaking with anticipation. Her own note,
smuggled out by Betty the preceding evening, had described in great and
inspired detail how her parents had imprisoned her, were feeding her on
the poorest table scraps, and had signified their intention of setting her
free only after the Season had ended. Would not dear, kind, Jeremy,
please come to her rescue? She had even managed to squeeze a few tears
out of her eyes, to leave their stains upon the note.

Her parents and sister had returned from a soiree shortly after
midnight, and now Chloe was waiting for the household to become quiet.
She had the candles ready, but hoped she would not have to use them. A
small portmanteau was packed with extra clothing, in case she would be
able to put her plans into effect. For Chloe, believing that her mother was
right insofar as she said that Lady Everingham's gossip had cast serious
doubts on the girl's innocence, had resolved to elope with her son.

Revenge, she was certain, would be sweet.

The household had been silent for some time when the clock
struck the quarter before two. She opened her door, glad that she had
rubbed butter from the bread served her at supper upon its hinges. She
had more butter, wrapped in a twist of paper, to apply to the kitchen door
and to the gate that opened onto the mews.

Chloe crept quietly down the servants' stairs and into the
kitchen. The door opened quietly after she had liberally smeared its
hinges, and she passed into the small moonlit garden She hesitated a
moment before crossing the open space, then hurried to the back wall.
Again she applied butter to hinges and, this time, to the lock as well. Her
actions were rewarded, for the gate opened silently. She slid through,
pushing the gate closed behind her, and hoped no one would notice it was
unlocked until well into the morrow.

The mews was dark. She started when a horse stamped and
shivered at the rustling of mice in the straw. Her heart leapt in fear when a
shadow detached itself from beside the stables. The next instant, she
breathed a sigh of relief as Lord Everingham stepped into the moonlight.
He held out his arms and she ran into them, dropping the portmanteau
with a soft thud.

"Let us go elsewhere so we can talk. Is your carriage nearby?"
she whispered.

"No, I took a hackney to the next street over. I did not wish to
arouse anyone with the sound of my coach." He lowered his head and
kissed her cheek, a gentle, undemanding touch of warm lips.

Chloe relaxed against him, wondering if she should return his
embrace. "Let us go to it at once. We must not risk anyone's finding us
here."

He hesitated.

"Please, Jeremy," she said, in a low, tremulous voice. "I must
speak with you and we dare not risk being heard."

He led her along the shadowed street to the hackney. Handing
her into its shabby interior, he commanded the driver to take them to
Hyde Park.

"In the middle o' the night?"

"Do as I tell you, my man. There will be an extra something in
it for you if you'll take us to the park and just drive around until I tell you
otherwise," Everingham promised.

"Oi'll wager that the watch'll not leave us be, in the park and
all," the man protested.

"Oh, very well, just drive around somewhere. Get to it, man;"
Lord Everingham pulled the door closed as he entered, cutting off what
little light had reached the interior. "Now, my dear Chloe, what is it you
wished to tell me? Why were you incarcerated? Are you quite sure that
you have recovered?"

She hated the suspicion in his tone. "I was never ill! My wicked
family locked me away because I was becoming more popular than my
sister. She has always been my parents' favorite. They did not like it that
all the gentlemen were paying more attention to me than to her. So they
locked me in my room until she could attach a serious suitor," she
concluded, with a heartrending sob.

"How wicked. Your mother seems such a nice lady."

"Oh, she is nice enough. It is my sister who is wicked. Mama
and Papa will do anything she asks of them." She reached out and clasped
his hands. "Jeremy, dear Jeremy, will you not save me from my evil
sister?"

"I would do anything to prevent your tears, my sweet Chloe,"
he vowed. "But I cannot take you away from your parents like this. They
could have the law on me."

"Jeremy, you could take me from them, and the law would have
nothing to say about it."

"How?"

Although she could see his face only as a pale oval in the
darkness, Chloe could imagine the bewildered expression on his sheeplike
countenance. "Why, we could elope. If I were your wife, my parents
would no longer have control over me. And I would be from under the
terrible domination of my wicked sister."

"But my mother!" His voice was irresolute, as if he was having
difficulty breathing. "What would she say?"

"You are of age, are you not? Does she hold the purse
strings?"

"Well, no...but...but I could never marry without her
blessing."

"Why not?" She withdrew her hands from his. "Are you afraid
of your mother?"

If he was, she knew he would never admit it. "It just seems such
a shabby trick to play on her," he said, with some hesitation.

Chloe was convinced that no trick was too shabby to play on the
nasty Lady Everingham. She said nothing, only sniffed and let a small sob
escape.

"Oh, Chloe, do not cry. Please."

"I will stop now," she replied, with a hiccup. "I will be strong.
You had better return me to my house, because if you will not assist me, I
must try to steal back inside before the servants are astir."