Corey McFadden (3 page)

Everywhere she looked were signs of neglect and disrepair. The walls were badly in need of new paint; several pieces of once fine furniture had nicks in them or pieces knocked off, large enough to be noticed from a distance. Nothing had been reupholstered in this room since her mother had died eleven years ago, and while Maude had been perhaps relieved that her mother’s taste still lingered, now she could see the corruption that time and neglect had wrought.

Maude had asked Aunt Claire several weeks ago if the drawing room shouldn’t be spruced up a bit since all these guests were coming. She had received a dressing down by the woman for interfering. Aunt Claire had told her there wasn’t enough money for that sort of frippery, considering the cost of Amelia’s Season, so Maude had held her tongue after that.

Maude’s eyes again wandered to the corner of the drawing room where Amelia and the earl were still huddled together, looking for all the world as if they were alone in the universe, Amelia, coy and confident in her obvious conquest. Neighborhood whispering had it that Radford was quite the ladies’ man in London. That was hardly surprising, Maude had to admit to herself, because he certainly cut a handsome figure with his finely tailored dark blue frock coat and his snowy-white linen, not to mention the dun-colored breeches which showed off a well-muscled and trim physique.

And probably more to the point, she thought wryly, he had become the new Earl of Radford upon his father’s death seven years ago, an honor not lost on the astute mamas of London. Now, at twenty-eight years old, he remained unencumbered by a wife and the competition for his favor was fierce as this new Season was getting underway. Aunt Claire had considered it a rare coup when the young earl had accepted her invitation to her small soiree, an “unofficial” neighborhood introduction for Amelia. Romney Manor was a modest neighbor to the rather grand Radford estate, seat of an earl for many generations, but Claire was conscious of the propinquity and felt that the family gained in reflected glory.

There was no doubt that Amelia had grown into a real beauty. Her raven hair which reached her hips when unpinned was arranged in graceful swirls, swept up in the back to cascade to her pretty neck in curls intertwined with satin ribbons.

It was unpowdered, according to the latest fashion. Curling tendrils set off her lovely face with its pink cheeks and rosy lips, slightly augmented with a rouge pot, Maude knew.

No expense had been spared on Amelia’s dress for this evening, or, in fact, on her wardrobe for the entire coming Season. Maude had marveled at the quality of the material, and the elaborateness of each design. A much-patronized London dressmaker had come to the manor with two assistants and yards and yards of splendid silks, satins, and laces. They had flustered and buzzed about Amelia, pinning, nipping, and chattering on and on about this young lady or that, all of whom seemed to have come to grief socially, some for minor misdemeanors, others for gross breaches, which required that husbands be found posthaste.

Claire and Amelia had seemed to relish each gossipy tidbit dropped by Madame Denis, treating her as if she were near-royalty, and so proud that she had condescended to come such a distance north from London to the byways of Bedfordshire. Maude had wondered if it had occurred to her aunt or to her cousin that Romney Manor would also be the object of mirthful scorn and snide derision at Madame Denis’s next stop.

Amelia’s dress tonight was a stunning rose satin, daringly cut at the bosom, with the merest excuse for a lace fichu pretending to hide the décolletage. Her wasp-like waist was set off by panels of a darker rose which ended in layer after layer of expensive lace to the hem. Amelia wore garnets, flashing on her white neck and at her ear lobes.

Maude had never seen these jewels before, or several of the others Claire had brought forth recently to match to certain dress materials. Maude’s innocent expression of surprise at the jewels had brought a scornful snap from Aunt Claire. “They’re from my family, girl. We don’t all live like beggars.” Still, it was odd, thought Maude, that Aunt Claire, who had such an obvious appetite for pretty things, carping at James for his failure to provide her with such, had not worn these jewels all these years.

Amelia’s beautiful blue eyes flashed with amusement at some witticism Radford had just uttered. Maude sighed. It was not that she cared a fig about her own appearance or even that she was jealous of the favorable attention Amelia was getting. If Maude never had a Season of her own, it was fine with her. Such a lot of bother and expense anyway. It was just that she wondered if these young men who were so smitten by Amelia’s soft, purring loveliness had any idea how those eyes could flash in ugly temper with little provocation, and how the soft, fluted voice could grow shrill and shrewish in frequent anger.

Maude glanced down at her wrist which still bore the red welts from earlier this evening when Amelia had dug her fingernails into Maude’s flesh, dragging her younger cousin up the stairs. Maude had been desperate to get away from the arguing and carrying on in the house this afternoon. Amelia’s dress did not fit properly, it was too tight here, it was too loose there, the color was not right for her complexion; the food would be inadequate for the crowd; the weather was too warm. Between Amelia and Aunt Claire, the household had been in an uproar of last-minute screeches and slaps. A glorious romp over the hills on the manor’s one good horse had been worth the lambasting Maude had endured, returning in her usual state of dishevelment, so late that an early guest had seen her come in looking like a stablehand. At least the two harpies had been too pressed for time to shriek at Maude for long.

Well, one of these hapless men would learn the dark secret about Amelia soon enough, but not, Maude reflected ruefully, until after the property settlement and celebration of the nuptials. She feared it might be the earl who would be caught in the web, paralyzed by the venom, unable to escape. Still, she shrugged to herself, it was none of her affair if he wanted to make an ass of himself, and a marriage would get Amelia out of this house.

“I see Amelia has made quite a smash with Radford tonight,” said a voice at her elbow. “That should please Mama no end.” Cousin John, as usual, leaned too close as he whispered in Maude’s ear.

“I should think Aunt might wish Amelia to be somewhat less obvious in her preference,” answered Maude, tartly. “She shouldn’t be so forward; he’ll think her too easy.”

“Jealous, Maudie? I notice he’s paid no attention to your charms tonight. Did you think he might prefer your carrot top to my sister’s ebon glory?”

“I think he’s a pompous bore!” Maude declared. “I am not the least bit interested in where he bestows his favors.”

She glanced hotly at the offending young earl, only to notice as she pronounced him of no interest whatsoever that his breeches molded tightly to his well-muscled thighs, setting them off to great advantage, particularly as compared to the fat, pastel be-satined thighs of Cousin John. Thighs and breeches! Of all the irrelevancies to come popping into her mind!

Maude shook her head slightly as if to clear the silly thoughts. She started to head toward a group of girls who were, alas, giggling in the corner. Anything was better than the too-close, overly perfumed presence of her stepcousin, John, who always made her feel as if someone had put a garter snake down her back.

She was stopped in her progress by the sight of Amelia and Radford disappearing beyond the doors which opened onto the darkened terrace. Well, really! Did her cousin have no care for what people would say? Maude glanced quickly at Aunt Claire to see if she had noticed the breach, and was startled to see that her aunt was gazing at the doors with a smug, gloating look. Didn’t anyone in this family have any brains? If Amelia gained a reputation for being loose even before the Season got underway, there would be no match for her, great or small, not to mention the embarrassment to the family name. Maude had no illusions about their small country society. Neighbors who would enjoy one’s hospitality one evening would twice as much enjoy cutting one to ribbons the next, were there a whisper of scandal.

What to do? Maude shuddered at the thought of walking out on the terrace herself; she would look so obvious. In fact, she doubted if she could even get that far before her aunt’s hissing voice and pinching fingers obstructed her path, since it was so clear this scenario met with Aunt Claire’s approval. There had to be another way to interrupt the
tête-à-tête
, but without receiving any blame for it.

A plan in mind, Maude made for the stairway as unobtrusively as possible, ascending swiftly to the second floor. She walked quickly to John’s bedroom where a small balcony at the window overlooked the terrace. Now all she needed to do was step out onto the balcony and have a loud, if fake, conversation to warn the errant couple that they were not alone and drive them back indoors.

Maude stepped out into the mild early October evening and gazed carefully over the balustrade. It was almost too dark to see. The only light spilled out from the lower windows, making squares on the stone paving but not reaching into the shadows. Maude scanned the area, peering into the darkness and at the hedges that bordered the stone balustrade.

Just as she was about to give up and hope they had gone back inside, she heard the low murmur of voices below her. She leaned forward slightly and could just make out a bit of the rose satin of Amelia’s dress, but the couple seemed to be standing almost directly under the balcony and she could see nothing more. The cad! This part of the terrace was utterly dark and as far from the open doors to the house as one could get. It was perfectly obvious the earl was up to no good.

Gripping her hands tightly under the stone railing, Maude leaned out as far as she could. Fortunately, the upper balcony was deep in shadow, minimizing the chances that she would be detected. Yes! Now she could see them and she stared, stunned. Radford and Amelia stood pressed as tightly together as they could be, from their groping lips to their knees. Amelia’s arms were wrapped around his neck, but he had one hand cupping her buttocks, pressing her to his loins, while his other hand, horror of horrors, fumbled in her décolletage.

Ruined! Amelia would be the laughingstock of the Season if wind of this shocking conduct got out, and the whole family would suffer in the bargain.

“What an enchanting sight you are, cousin, in my boudoir and bottoms up to the world.”

Maude bit off a cry as John’s fat fingers goosed her rump. She jerked forward in horror, leaning too far out, and gasped as she felt her satin shoes slipping in the dust on the balcony. She scrambled frantically but her feet could not find a purchase. Before she could regain her balance, she pitched forward, head first over the balustrade. Her underhand grip on the railing saved her from a broken neck as she found herself dangling precipitously, clinging to the rail, her legs flailing.

“Help me, John! I can’t hold on!” she cried as John whooped with laughter and made no move to come to her aid.

“I’d say you deserve to fall right in the middle of the little love scene, cousin.” He laughed, peering over the side. “Bon voyage, Maudie!” He turned and disappeared into the dark room.

Maude felt her fingers slipping as she grasped with all her might, but to no avail. In a tumbled heap, she landed on the terrace below, a fall of only some few feet given how far she had hung from the balcony. Her first sight as she slowly raised her gaze were a pair of fine Hessian boots, then the well-molded breeches standing over her. Her eyes traveled further upward, coming to rest on his face. His blue eyes were mocking and his mouth twitched as he fought the urge to smile. That he was vastly amused rather than angry was small consolation. No mortification she would ever suffer again in her life would rival this hideous night!

“May I compliment you, Miss Romney, on your underthings this evening?” the earl drawled. “Lovely petticoats...and such a lacy shift. And while I cannot say that your conduct is much improved, you are far cleaner than you were at our last encounter.”

A furious blush suffused Maude’s face. Underthings! He not only had seen her underthings, he had the effrontery to comment on them. And she had thought Amelia ruined by a kiss! She would emigrate to Australia! Tomorrow!

“May, I assist you to stand. Miss Romney? I trust you were not hurt in your little fall from the balcony? What can you have been doing up there?”

His amusement was boundless. Obviously, he would entertain his friends for years with this tale. Australia was too close. Perhaps Tibet....

“Leave her be, Edward! If she’s hurt, she deserves it,” Amelia spat. “Can’t you see that the little sneak was spying on us?” Amelia grabbed a handful of Maude’s curls and gave a nasty yank, wrenching her head up. “How dare you! I shall see to it that Mama leaves scars on your back for this!”

A curious expression crossed the earl’s face. “Amelia,” he said coolly, gently disengaging her fingers from Maude’s hair, “I’m sure the child merely wanted a breath of air. It’s close inside with all the guests. There’s no harm done, after all.”

He shot Amelia a look as if warning her to silence, and again extended his hand to Maude. She took it in abject misery—‘child’, again—and allowed him to hoist her to her feet. He was surprisingly gentle under the circumstances.

“Ah, I believe you are hurt,” he said as Maude winced in pain.

Indeed, she was not able to put any weight at all on her wretched ankle which had struck the ground first. It was hot and it throbbed badly. Maude wanted nothing more than to sit back down and cry.

The misery must have shown in her face because he stopped smiling and put his arm around her shoulder. “Here, now, lean against me and I will help you in. Amelia, you must come, too. Really, you know, Amelia, Maude has done us a great favor,” he continued, settling the girl in the crook of his arm. “It was foolish of us to come out here alone for air. People will look for something to gossip about. When the three of us walk in together, no one will think a thing of it.”