Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02] (21 page)

He finally broke the uncomfortable silence. "Mrs. Proctor, surely when you take a moment to examine Bingham's idea more carefully, you will see that it is completely out of the question for any number of reasons."

Allegra kept her jaw clamped shut, ignoring the plea of reason in his voice.

When the earl saw that she meant not to answer, he gave a heavy sigh and went on. "First of all, the notion that I should bring you to Town masquerading as a distant cousin, recently bereaved and left a fortune by the obliging deceased is outside of enough—"

"And why is that?" she inquired rather acidly. "I may not be a proper lady, my lord, but I was raised with a modicum of manners, and have dined out enough in country society to be fairly certain I wouldn't disgrace myself in some drawing room or ballroom. Or perhaps you believe that those of us without title or fortune will always reveal ourselves as inferior in the presence of our betters, no matter what the dressing?" For some reason, the idea that the earl found the very thought of her as a fine lady preposterous piqued her more than she could explain.

Wrexham's brows came together in confusion. "That is not at all what I meant. That is, I..." His words trailed off as he wondered how in the devil he had been put on the defensive so quickly. "Good lord, you know very well that I believe no such thing—why you are much more..." Again he stumbled over his choice of words. "...sensible to be around than most of the ton," he finished lamely.

Sensible? Hardly mollifying, she thought, but apparently it would have to do.

The earl was beginning to recover his equilibrium. "It has to do with habits and such—things that would be difficult for you to be aware of. There are any number of pitfalls, Mrs. Proctor, that could give you away—"

"But that's why Lord Bingham has suggested enlisting Aunt Olivia's help!" interrupted Max. "You've always said she has a good head on her shoulders and can trusted to come through in a pinch. With her help, Mrs. Proctor won't have any trouble learning what she needs to know to be accepted as who she says she is."

Wrexham's eyes closed for a moment, trying to suppress the feeling that, had Bingham been present, he would have cheerfully throttled his friend's neck. Unfortunately, Max was right. His Aunt Olivia was certainly a perfect choice for aiding them in this endeavor. Not only was she clever and capable but she had an odd, adventurous streak that would no doubt lead her to look upon the whole thing as fun! That her husband was away on a diplomatic mission in St. Petersburg for another few months and had taken their two grown sons with him only made matters worse, for there would be no other voice of male reason to moderate what he was sure would be her enthusiasm for the plan.

Why, he wondered balefully as he stole another look at his son's eager face, was he the only member of the family who exhibited any common sense and refused to succumb to wild extremes emotion?

Clearing his throat, he tried a different tack. "That may be so, Max. But Mrs. Proctor, have you truly considered the real dangers? These are ruthless men you mean to toy with, and they are by no means slowtops. One careless slip of the tongue could put your life at risk. Doesn't that frighten you?"

Allegra's expression didn't waver. "I would be a fool not to realize there are risks, my lord. But I feel that the odds are decidedly on my side."

"And why is that?" His eyes narrowed and his voice took on a touch of sarcasm. "Do you mean to slip that ancient pistol into your reticule and imagine yourself safe?"

She shook her head. "Certainly not. It is you, sir, who tip the balance."

He was completely taken aback.

"Me!" he exclaimed as he scanned her face for any sign that the words where some sort of joke.

Her expression remained quite serious. "Yes, my lord. I think the risk is worth taking for is my opinion that Sandhill and his son are no match for us if you will consent to be a part of the plan."

Wrexham started to speak when he caught the look in his son's eyes. He felt a sudden constriction in his chest.

"Of course they aren't," said Max with a note of pride. "If anyone can bring them to justice, it is Father. He is smarter and braver than any of those bast—uh, villains."

The earl shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I... suppose Edmund is not entirely out of his head. With certain modifications, it might be possible... "

"I knew you would not let them get away with what they have done," cried Max triumphantly.

Wrexham felt things slipping away from him. "I warn you both that if I agree to go along with this, it is I who will decide exactly how we proceed, is that clear?"

Both of them nodded solemnly.

"And if I feel it is becoming too dangerous, I will put a stop to the whole thing in an instant."

Neither of them raised a word in argument.

"When do we leave for London?" demanded Max, barely able to contain his exuberance.

"I haven't made a final decision," snapped the earl irritably, though he knew quite well what the outcome would be. "And certainly not until you are fit enough to travel," he added, a touch less sharply. "So I suggest you take yourself off and lie down. It appears you've had more than enough exertion for this morning."

Max showed eminent good sense by rising and limping from the room without further argument, though he did give Allegra a surreptitious wink as he went by.

She waited until the lad had shut the library door. "I'm sorry, my lord. I acted in haste without realizing that I might be putting you in an awkward position with Max. I should have discussed the matter with you in private." She sighed. "I know there really is no earthy reason for you to expose your family and yourself to further danger. I would only ask that you do not actively interfere if Lord Bingham agrees to help me put his plan into effect."

"Bingham lacks a practical turn of mind. He's liable to forget some detail or another than could lead to serious trouble," growled the earl.

Allegra regarded him gravely. "He may not be as capable as you, my lord, but please understand that I cannot let the matter rest. I will do whatever I must."

Wrexham cleared his throat. "I have told you before I am quite immune to flattery."

She looked a bit startled, then dropped her lashes. "Flattery? I am well aware of the fact that I have little of the wiles or the charms with which to attempt such a thing with a gentleman."

He made no answer but began drumming his fingers on the desk once again. "Oh, bloody hell," he finally muttered. "I should no doubt be hauled off to Bedlam, but if I'm to keep all of you out of the suds, I suppose I shall have to take charge."

Her eyes came alight with a certain glow. "Thank you, sir," she said simply.

The earl nodded curtly and dismissed her with a brusque wave of his hand.

As he watched her retreating form, the realization dawned on him that his son and his tutor had somehow contrived to have him take on the role of one of those ghastly heroes in Bingham's novels.

He supposed he should feel ill-used, indeed, but somehow, the thought of it only brought a quirk of a smile to his lips.

* * *

Allegra surveyed the trunks and neatly corded boxes stacked in the corner of the entry hall which tomorrow morning at first light would be loaded into one of the carriages for the trip to London. The moment was finally here. During the past two weeks she had almost wondered if his grudging acquiescence to Lord Bingham's plan had been conveniently forgotten. He had never brought it up again since the initial discussion and deftly turned aside any of Max's efforts to broach the subject. Instead he had immersed himself in estate affairs, spending the days out with his bailiff in the fields and the evenings at his desk in the library, dealing with his ledgers and correspondence.

For her own part, she refrained from raising any further questions on the few occasions she saw him, partly out of guilt for the rather underhanded way in which his promise of help had been secured. But that didn't dampen her curiosity as to what he was thinking about the matter, for she was sure one as sharp as the earl did not move into action without a plan of his own.

Drat the man. Surely he knew he would have to tell her at some point. Why couldn't he share what—

"Mrs. Proctor."

Allegra started at the sound of his deep voice, causing her candle to flicker wildly in the shadows.

"It's getting late. You should be in your bed. We leave at an early hour."

"Yes, my lord. I... I just came down to fix some chamomile tea."

He regarded the steaming cup in her hand, then fixed her with an questioning look. "Will you join me in the library?" It was worded more as a command than a request. Indeed, he didn't wait for a reply but turned on his heel and left her to follow in his wake.

Allegra sat rather stiffly in one of the armchairs while he poured himself a brandy and came to stand in front of the crackling fire. She sipped at her herbal tea while he swirled the amber spirits in his glass. A taut silence reigned before Wrexham cleared his throat and spoke.

"I am well aware that chamomile is used when one is experiencing agitated nerves and having trouble falling asleep. If you are having second thoughts, you needn't go through with this, you know."

She put her cup down.

"You would only be showing good sense, nothing else, should you decide to abandon this dangerous scheme."

"You are quite mistaken if you think I mean to back away now. Why, I am more determined than ever to see this out, my lord."

He muttered something incoherent under his breath, of which she caught the words "stubborn," and "mule."

Ignoring the interruption, she continued. "If it is you who are regretting your involvement, you certainly may feel free to withdraw."

His dark brows drew together. "I don't go back on my promises, Mrs. Proctor."

"Well, neither do I," she shot back. She could see that her words took him by surprise. "I promised myself that I wouldn't let Sandhill get away with his crimes. I have no intention of stopping now."

The earl muttered something else—this time it sounded suspiciously like an oath—then put his drink down on the mantel and stalked over to his desk.

"Neither, it seems, do any of the other participants in this gothic melodrama!" He gestured to a sheet of paper lying on the blotter. "My sister writes that she is already on her way to take up residence in my townhouse so that she will be there when we arrive."

Allegra blinked. "I most certainly understand, sir, your irritation at having any more members of your family involved in this."

"I am not irritated, Mrs. Proctor. I am furious."

"Surely you can explain to her that her presence is not at all necessary—"

"Not necessary! My dear Mrs. Proctor, if you are so blithely unaware of the rules of Society that you think I could take up residence with an unattached, unchaperoned female under my roof, then this proposed charade of yours will not last more than a day," he exclaimed.

"I am well aware of the rules," she said defensively. "I just meant, perhaps we could find someone else."

"Oh? And who might that be?" he inquired, his voiced edged with sarcasm. "I assure you, Bingham will not do."

Her lips pressed together in a tight line.

"And as for knowledge of the rules—I hope I needn't remind you that to be caught alone in a room with a gentleman would have the direst of consequences," he couldn't help but add.

A flush of color came to her cheeks. "You have made your point, sir. If your wish is to humiliate me, you may, of course, continue."

He glared at her, but left off and went on to other matters. "Olivia has already begun to make arrangements for her modiste to be ready to make up a suitable wardrobe as soon as you arrive."

"Wardrobe?" repeated Allegra, her brows coming together.

"You can hardly appear in Society in those mousy governess things you insist on wearing here. Not if you wish to be taken for a rich widow."

"I... I hadn't thought of that—"

"I'm sure there is a great deal you have not thought of concerning this foolish plan," he said acidly.

Allegra's face had gone quite pale but her chin came up a fraction. "Does your sister mention an amount that she considers sufficient to cover what is necessary. I shall have to inquire of my cousin—"

Wrexham took in the unflinching dignity in her tone as well as the slight tremor of her jaw. "I have already arranged to take care of it," he said quietly.

"No!" She shot to her feet and came towards the desk. "On no account will I accept a farthing of your... charity—"

"Consider it a bonus for the outstanding work you have done with my son. It is a common practice for an employer to reward a job well done."

Allegra bit her lip. She couldn't argue with the earl about the need for suitable gowns and such. Her cousin Lucy would no doubt be willing to come to her aid once again, but she had already been obliged to do so much....

"Very well," she said in a tight voice, blinking back a tear of frustration. "We shall decide on an appropriate sum, but any amount over that I shall pay back to you at a... future date, if that is acceptable to you."