Cupid's Choice: She's a shy beauty in distress. He's a chivalric gentleman. (15 page)

While Lord Holybrooke invited Sir Frederick again into the front parlor and the butler went off in search of refreshments, Guin excused herself so that she could go upstairs to put off her hat. Once she had reached the first landing and turned the corner where she knew she could not be seen by those below, she flew to her room. With her maid’s help, she changed quickly out of her carriage dress into a fresh day gown and dragged a brush quickly through her crushed curls.

When she returned downstairs, she found not only her brother and Sir Frederick in the front parlor, but Colonel Caldar as well. They each held a glass of fine brandy and were conversing in a companionable fashion. There was a burst of laughter at some witticism made by Sir Frederick.

Upon seeing Guin enter, Lord Holybrooke said, “Guin! You’re just in time. Sir Frederick has proposed a treat. There are to be fireworks at Vauxhall. He has asked us to make up the numbers of his party for supper.”

“It does indeed sound delightful, Sir Frederick,” said Guin, flashing the smile that was so like her brother’s. Her eyes glowed with anticipation as she looked at Sir Frederick. She sat down on the settee and her brother seated himself carelessly beside her. Sir Frederick took the chair opposite, but Colonel Caldar remained standing near the hearth.

“Then it is something you would enjoy, Miss Holland?” asked Sir Frederick, an answering gleam in his own eyes. There was appreciation in his gaze as he looked at the attractive picture made by the twin brother and sister. However, his eyes rested mostly on Miss Holland. He thought he had rarely seen her look more lovely than she did in the cerulean-blue gown that she had put on. The color deepened the shade of her eyes and was a striking contrast to her dark ringlets.

“Oh, yes!” exclaimed Guin. “There can be no question. I have not been to Vauxhall yet, and I have heard so much about how beautiful and entertaining it is.”

Colonel Caldar claimed her attention. “My dear, even though it is rather early in the day, Barlow brought in tea. Would you like some?”

Guin shook her head and smiled across at her uncle. “No, thank you, dear sir. After the splendid ice you treated me to at Gunther’s, I don’t wish for anything.”

“Then it is settled. We shall certainly join your party, Sir Frederick,” said Lord Holybrooke, never having lost sight of the main topic.

“And pray allow us to return your hospitality in advance, Sir Frederick,” said Colonel Caldar. “We go to the theater this evening. I am certain we shall all be delighted to have you join us in our box.”

“What a capital notion!” said Lord Holybrooke with enthusiasm. He looked over at Sir Frederick, somewhat diffidently. “I hope you have no prior commitments, Sir Frederick?”

“None which I cannot easily break, my lord. I shall be honored to join your party,” said Sir Frederick easily. He glanced toward the earl’s sister as though to gauge her reaction.

Guin was aware of Sir Frederick’s gaze, but it did not make her feel at all ill-at-ease. She smiled at him. She was truly glad for her uncle’s spontaneous invitation. She could not think of anything she would rather do than spend an evening in Sir Frederick’s company. Now she would have the opportunity to do so both that evening and again when they joined him for supper in Vauxhall Gardens.

The door opened and Mrs. Holland entered the front parlor. Guin tensed, anxiously scanning her mother’s face as she recalled how they had parted. But it seemed that Mrs. Holland had put off her anger for she wore one of her lovely smiles.

“Sir Frederick! What a pleasant surprise. I am sorry to have missed your arrival. I trust that Percival has made you suitably welcome?”

Sir Frederick had risen at Mrs. Holland’s entrance. With his habitual grace, he bowed over her outstretched fingers. Civilly, he said, “Quite welcome, ma’am. I find you well, I trust.”

“Oh, I am well enough for one of my sensitive constitution,” said Mrs. Holland, taking a chair and adjusting the folds of her skirts. “I shall do even better now that Lady Smythe has offered to bear some of the burden of launching my daughter into society. You cannot conceive what a comforting thought it is that her ladyship is willing to oblige me in this! I have just come from telling my particular friends about it.”

Colonel Caldar spluttered on a mouthful of brandy and began coughing. “Pardon!” he gasped, turning red. He turned away to the hearth, presenting his broad shoulders to the company as he got himself under control.

“Mama, you didn’t,” exclaimed Guin, dismay and embarrassment rising up in her breast. It was bad enough that her mother had aired her shortcomings to Lady Smythe in the privacy of their own parlor. Now she learned that Mrs. Holland had confided the particulars to all of London.

“Why shouldn’t I, my dear? I am sure it is no great thing, and I can conceive of no reason to keep secret her ladyship’s kindness,” said Mrs. Holland in a reasonable voice, pulling off her gloves.

“What are you talking about, Mama?” asked Lord Holybrooke in puzzlement. He glanced from his sister’s coloring face to his mother’s complacent expression. “What’s this about Lady Smythe and Guin?”

Guin’s embarrassment escalated. She avoided Sir Frederick’s eyes as she hastened to say, “Mama, I doubt that Sir Frederick would be much interested in her ladyship’s expression of kindness. May we not discuss it at another time?”

“On the contrary, Miss Holland! I am most interested, especially since Lady Smythe is quite one of my oldest friends,” said Sir Frederick, his brows quirking upward. He swirled the brandy in the bottom of his glass.

“Oldest! How droll of you, Sir Frederick!” said Mrs. Holland on a laugh. She flashed a roguish look at him. “I shall not betray you to Lady Smythe, on my honor.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Sir Frederick civilly. There was nothing in his demeanor to hint that he had borne the least anxiety over the possibility.

Guin jumped up. Hoping to divert her mother’s thoughts, she asked, “Would you like some tea, Mama? Shall I get it for you?”

Lord Holybrooke looked up at her with a gathering frown.

“Why, thank you, Guin,” said Mrs. Holland, accepting her daughter’s offer to serve her without surprise. She turned to Sir Frederick. “I don’t care to boast, you must understand, Sir Frederick. However, it is really too good of Lady Smythe, and I cannot express my gratitude enough.”

“I quite understand, Mrs. Holland,” said Sir Frederick with his charming smile.

Seeing that there would be nothing to save her, Guin fled with reddened cheeks to the occasional table.

Mrs. Holland needed little encouragement to trumpet abroad anything she perceived as a social boost. In short order, she laid out for Sir Frederick the particulars of Lady Smythe’s visit earlier that day. Against her will, Guin glanced back often and saw that Sir Frederick was listening with every appearance of interest. He put in a suitable comment or question now and again, which only served to spur Mrs. Holland to further disclosure and boastful speculation.

Guin had rushed to the occasional table, but now she dawdled over the tea tray. She was embarrassed by her mother’s aggrandizement and wished that she was courageous enough to either interrupt or flee entirely from the parlor.

Lord Holybrooke walked over to her and asked in a low voice, “What the deuce is Mama talking about, Guin?”

“You have only to listen, Percy,” said Guin with a flash of irritation. She arranged for the fifth time the tea things on the tray.

“One would think to hear Mama talk that Lady Smythe is in a fair way to adopting you, and all because you are the sister of an earl! Next she will be saying that you have wheedled your way into her ladyship’s confidence,” said Lord Holybrooke, frowning as he glanced over his shoulder.

“Hush!” exclaimed Guin, afraid that her brother’s frank speech might be overheard by Sir Frederick. She picked up the tray in trembling hands. The teacups clattered on their saucers while the plate of biscuits slid to one edge of the tray.

Lord Holybrooke deftly took the tray from her. “Better let me have that. You’ll tip it over onto the carpet the way you are shaking. You stay here, Guin. I am going to say something to Mama to make her stop making such a cake of herself in front of Sir Frederick!”

Guin plucked at the sleeve of her brother’s coat. “Percy, pray do not!”

Colonel Caldar came up in time to hear his nephew’s angry mutter. He set down his emptied wineglass and decanted the bottle of brandy. He said calmly, “Don’t go off half-cocked, Percy. Think of your sister.”

“I am thinking of her, sir. I’ve no wish for her to figure as a conniving baggage in Sir Frederick’s eyes. Or in anyone else’s, for that matter,” said Lord Holybrooke in a grim voice. “I wonder how many others she has told this stuff?”

“Oh, no!” said Guin, distressed. “Pray do not say anything to Mama in front of Sir Frederick, Percy!”

“Well, I shall! I can correct his impression, at least,” said Lord Holybrooke.

“I suspect Sir Frederick is more savvy than you give him credit for, Percy,” said Colonel Caldar dryly. He refilled his glass and then poured a measure of brandy into another.

“You’re mighty cool of a sudden, sir,” said Lord Holybrooke swiftly, “when just a minute ago you choked over it!”

“Take my advice and leave well enough alone for now. It won’t harm Guin to be around Lady Smythe and away from your mother,” said Colonel Caldar. “Don’t queer it for her, Percy.”

Lord Holybrooke’s eyes met his uncle’s, an arrested expression in them. “I see. You’re quite right, sir, of course.” He threw a glance toward his mother and Sir Frederick, and the frown descended again. “Yet I can’t but wish that Mama would not expose herself so.”

“Then, perhaps we should join her and Sir Frederick again,” said Colonel Caldar. He picked up the two wineglasses. “The poor fellow must be glazing over with boredom by now.”

Lord Holybrooke laughed and carried over the tea tray, Guin right beside him. Guin glanced anxiously at Sir Frederick’s face. He did not appear in the least bored by Mrs. Holland’s boastful confidences. Instead, there was a pronounced expression of amusement in his eyes.

Guin felt ready to sink.

Colonel Caldar had followed with the wineglasses, one of which he now offered to Sir Frederick. “My apologies in taking so long, Sir Frederick. I had a bit of trouble decanting the bottle.”

“Not at all, Colonel Caldar,” said Sir Frederick, accepting the glass of brandy. The amusement in his eyes deepened. Despite his apparent absorption in what Mrs. Holland was saying to him, he had not missed the intense murmured conference at the occasional table.

“Well! I trust the tea is still warm,” said Mrs. Holland pointedly, throwing a disapproving glance at her daughter.

“I imagine it will be found to be just as you like it, Mama,” said Lord Holybrooke gravely. “I made certain that Guin fixed it to your taste.” He met his sister’s fulminating gaze with bland innocence.

“Thank you, Percy. I may always trust you to see to my comfort,” said Mrs. Holland, at once in charity with everything around her. She tasted the cup of tea which Guin handed to her. “Quite perfect, Percy.”

Lord Holybrooke sketched a bow before lounging over to the mantel and laying an arm along it. “Mama, my uncle and I have invited Sir Frederick to join us this evening in our box at the theater. Sir Frederick has very kindly assented.”

For an instant, Mrs. Holland looked startled. Her expression smoothed into a smile. “What a pleasant notion. You must come to dine with us also, Sir Frederick. We are sitting down only twenty couples, but another gentleman can never be counted amiss.”

Sir Frederick was too old a hand not to realize when his presence would be
de trop
. Sensible of the fact that Mrs. Holland had mentioned couples, he made a graceful disclaimer. “I am unfortunately already engaged for dinner. However, I shall certainly present myself later this evening at the theater.”

“Excellent,” said Colonel Caldar jovially.

Sir Frederick rose to take his leave, and the ladies rose with him. He made a pretty speech to each before he shook hands with Lord Holybrooke and Colonel Caldar.

As Sir Frederick left the front parlor and retrieved his hat from the butler, he was well pleased with his visit. He had gleaned much from Mrs. Holland’s disclosures. He had also discovered that Colonel Caldar was willing to advance his niece’s interests through Lady Smythe.

It was shaping up very nicely, Sir Frederick thought. Soon Lady Smythe would have the polishing of Miss Holland, and he would naturally do his part.

A reminiscent smile played over his mouth. Miss Holland had been acutely embarrassed in becoming the topic of discussion. He would have thought less of her if she had not shown self-consciousness. He hoped, however, that the young lady would quickly learn to get over much of her tendency toward discomfiture. It was the nature of people to talk about other people.

The toast of the town necessarily had to have more than poise, more than beauty, more than quality. She had to have a thick skin. It remained to be seen if Miss Holland had the fortitude to acquire it.

Guin had known that Lord Holloway was to be one of the guests that evening. Despite Mrs. Holland’s oft-repeated approval, she did not particularly like Lord Holloway. Apparently her brother shared her feelings because Lord Holybrooke was not far distant when Lord Holloway sought out Guin’s company. The earl engaged Lord Holloway in polite conversation, his hand resting upon Guin’s chair back. Guin was grateful that her brother hovered over her, for she had no ambition to further her acquaintance with Lord Holloway.

Lord Holloway eventually bowed and walked away to join some of the other guests.

Lord Holybrooke watched the gentleman’s sauntering progress with narrowed eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t have anything to do with his lordship, Guin.”

“I don’t wish to, Percy, I assure you,” said Guin quickly. “But Mama considers Lord Holloway to be a suitable
parti.”

“I have been given reason to believe that he is not,” said Lord Holybrooke shortly.

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Guin, turning her head to look full into his face.

However, Lord Holybrooke only shook his head and repeated his statement. Guin assured him that she would do her best not to encourage Lord Holloway. She really did not know how to accomplish that without incurring her mother’s wrath, but simply hoped that something would come to mind or that his lordship would lose his seeming interest in her.

Half an hour later, Guin was dismayed when she discovered that her mother had designated Lord Holloway to be her dinner partner. His lordship held out his arm to her, his heavy-lidded gaze on her face. “Shall we go in, Miss Holland?” he inquired in his mincing voice.

Guin hid her consternation and rose to her feet. “Of— of course, my lord,” she murmured, her stammer in strong evidence. Without glancing upward into his long handsome face, she laid her fingers delicately on his elbow.

Lord Holloway escorted Guin toward the dining room. The other couples going before and coming after them were exchanging animated pleasantries. “You are quiet, Miss Holland. But then, it is my observation that you are generally restrained from speech,” said Lord Holloway lightly.

“My lord?” Guin looked fleetingly up to meet his inscrutable gaze. She saw the half-smile on his thin-lipped mouth. There was something about his expression that made her shiver suddenly. “I—I don’t quite understand you.”

Lord Holloway waved his scented handkerchief in a languid manner. “Pray do not fear that I am offended, Miss Holland. On the contrary, I think it an admirable quality.”

Guin shook her head, still in the dark as to his meaning. She was intelligent enough to realize that there was more underlying the impersonally uttered words than there would seem to be on the surface.

They entered the dining room, and Lord Holloway ushered her to her place, politely pulling out the chair and seating her. Guin felt his fingers brush featherlight across the back of her neck, and she looked around quickly.

Lord Holloway did not glance her way as he pulled out the chair beside her. Guin decided it had been an accidental contact on his lordship’s part, and she put it out of her mind.

Guin looked up and down the long elegantly set table. Candlelight lit the scene, catching the gleam of plate and silverware, as the guests settled into their places. Most of the guests were ones Guin had previously met at her mother’s rout. There was much loud talk and laughter, the lone exception being the pool of silence existing between Colonel Caldar and his dinner partner.

Colonel Caldar maintained a polite expression, but Guin perceived the boredom that underlaid it. She was sorry that her uncle was finding the dinner party so tedious. It was her mother’s fault, of course, for saddling her uncle with such a terrible choice of partner. Anyone could have seen that Colonel Caldar and Miss Baker were ill-paired. If she had been the hostess, Guin thought, she would have discreetly rearranged matters. However, she understood how her mother’s mind worked.

It chanced that Miss Baker was a relation to Lord Holloway and, knowing that her brother was always civil and could be relied upon to make an effort to entertain a guest, Mrs. Holland had assigned Colonel Caldar the task of making the evening agreeable for Miss Baker.

Several days previously, Lord Holloway had told Mrs. Holland of his cousin’s visit to London and asked the favor of adding the lady to Mrs. Holland’s dinner party. Mrs. Holland had graciously assented, even though her numbers would be uneven, and extended her invitation to include Miss Baker. She told Colonel Caldar that she would not be backward in any attention toward Lord Holloway.

“For I am convinced that his lordship intends to offer for Guin,” said Mrs. Holland. “I could wish better, of course, but Lord Holloway will do very well for Guin. He is a peer and his estates are extensive.”

Colonel Caldar had frowned, his eyes narrowed. “I wish you would not encourage anything from that direction, Aurelia. There is something about Lord Holloway that I cannot like.”

“Nonsense! What is there not to like? His lordship is a fine gentleman, always well dressed, and he possesses such exquisite manners,” said Mrs. Holland, putting up her well-formed brows.

Colonel Caldar barked a laugh. “I would call him rather a pretty gentleman, and his manner is that of a fop! That scented handkerchief he is always waving about! What affectation!”

“You are obviously biased, Arnold. Just because you do not admire the cut of his coat—”

“It is the cut of the man that I do not admire,” interjected Colonel Caldar.

“Nevertheless, I trust that I may rely upon you to entertain Miss Baker?” asked Mrs. Holland with a determined smile.

Colonel Caldar had agreed to it, rather impatiently. However, as Guin had seen, he had cause to regret his acquiescence.

Miss Baker was a colorless creature. Though she was dressed elegantly enough, she had no beauty, either of face or of personality. She made little effort at conversation and replied to questions in monosyllables. There was not a hint of animation in her expression or her presence. She sat like a block, mechanically eating what was put before her.

Guin glanced several times during the course of dinner down the table toward her uncle and Miss Baker. Anxiously, she regarded the lines that were gradually forming about Colonel Caldar’s mouth. She knew her uncle for an amiable gentleman, seldom roused to wrath, but she got the distinct impression that he had about reached the end of his patience as far as Miss Baker was concerned.

Her assumption was proven correct when the other dinner guests had departed and only Lord Holloway and Miss Baker remained. Mrs. Holland had invited Lord Holloway and his cousin to accompany them to the theater. Colonel Caldar cornered his sister for a private word, which became something of a heated exchange, and ended only when Colonel Caldar returned to the company to make his apologies and excuse himself from making one of the party that was going on to the theater.

At once Guin spoke up, her sympathy fully aroused on Colonel Caldar’s behalf. “It is quite all right, dear sir. You will be missed tonight, but there will be another time.”

Mrs. Holland darted a wrathful glance at her daughter. There was high color in her face. She started to say something, but she was forestalled.

Lord Holloway smoothly accepted Colonel Caldar’s excuses. “I concur precisely with Miss Holland’s sentiments, sir.” His lordship’s cousin sat silent, her hands folded and with not a flicker of emotion in her eyes.

Colonel Caldar eyed Lord Holloway for an instant, almost as though he wanted to retract his decision, before he bowed and went out of the room.

Mrs. Holland made an attempt to smooth over what she obviously felt to be an awkward moment. Lord Holloway seemed perfectly ready to accept whatever platitudes she chose to utter.

Lord Holybrooke bent down to whisper in Guin’s ear, “Anyone could see in what direction it was going. What a muff Mama made of it!”

Shortly thereafter a message was received from Sir Frederick, conveying his apologies that his own appearance at the theater would be delayed. Guin put up a brave front, but her spirits sank. The evening was going from bad to worse.

A few minutes later the reduced party set out for the theater in separate carriages. The entire ride was enlivened by Mrs. Holland’s bitterly expressed opinion of her brother’s defection. Guin was never more glad of anything than when they arrived and were able to descend from the carriage. Naturally, Mrs. Holland’s whole demeanor changed once they rejoined Lord Holloway and his cousin, and they went inside the crowded theater to find their box.

The play was a good one and kept Guin entertained, though she had to lean uncomfortably forward to see the entire stage past the heavy velvet curtain that draped across the side of the box. She was seated in the far corner, her brother slouched in the chair beside her. Lord Holybrooke yawned from time to time, and Guin once shushed him. Lord Holybrooke shrugged with a rueful smile. He was not a theatergoer, preferring more lively entertainments, as Guin well knew.

When the curtain came down for intermission, the house lamps were lit. A knock sounded on the door, and an elderly admirer of Mrs. Holland’s came in. She received him with pleasure, and they swiftly entered upon a light flirtation.

Lord Holybrooke was bored with the company. His mother was engaged in conversation, as was Lord Holloway with his cousin. After exchanging a few observations with his sister about the play, Lord Holybrooke felt that there was little else to inspire his interest.

Looking idly down into the pit, he exclaimed that he saw a couple of his friends and left the box.

The elderly admirer offered to escort Mrs. Holland out for refreshments, and she acquiesced. She glanced over at her daughter meaningfully. “I know that you won’t care to come with us, Guin.”

“No, Mama,” said Guin, knowing full well what was expected of her.

Mrs. Holland stood up and placed her fingers on her gallant’s arm. Her gaze swept across Miss Baker’s wooden face and lingered on Lord Holloway. “I know that you will be perfectly safe with Lord Holloway and Miss Baker, Guin, so I do not feel guilty for leaving you with them for a few minutes.”

“Pray do not feel any need to rush back on your daughter’s account, Mrs. Holland,” drawled Lord Holloway. “My cousin and I will take very good care of Miss Holland.”

“I am certain of that, my lord,” said Mrs. Holland with the flash of her lovely smile. She left the box in company with her gallant.

Lord Holloway exchanged a few desultory remarks with Guin. She was civil to his lordship, but she felt unaccountably nervous at being the sole object of his conversation. She felt a flash of irritation toward Miss Baker, who had subsided once more into silence. Really, the woman was beyond anything.

Guin leaned forward so that she could better see the lady past Lord Holloway. “Do you like the play, Miss Baker?”

Miss Baker stared back at her, before giving a bare nod.

Lord Holloway laughed indulgently. “You must forgive my cousin, Miss Holland. She is not good in company.” He gave a slight signal with his head.

Without a word, Miss Baker rose and left the box. The door closed behind her with a small snap.

Guin had watched Miss Baker’s exit with astonishment. Surely the lady knew that she was entrusted by Mrs. Holland to enact the role of chaperon. Guin turned her troubled gaze to Lord Holloway “My lord! Your cousin—”

Lord Holloway shook his head. “My cousin is completely rag-mannered, Miss Holland. You must forgive her.”

“Of course, but—”

“I fear the torchlight must be hurting your eyes, Miss Holland,” drawled Lord Holloway. He had turned in his chair and was regarding her with a half smile.

“Oh, no! I am quite all right,” said Guin. She threw a glance toward the door of the box and began to rise from her chair. She was convinced that it was better to brave her mother’s annoyance at having her own tête-à-tête interrupted than to remain alone in the box, unchaperoned, with Lord Holloway.

As though he had not heard her, Lord Holloway got up and pulled the curtain partially closed. He was blocking the way toward the door, and Guin sank down again onto the chair.

Lord Holloway did not take his former seat but sat down again beside Guin in the chair vacated by her brother. A smile played over his mouth as his gaze slid over her. “Now we may be comfortable, Miss Holland.”

Shielded from view behind the heavy curtain, Lord Holloway abruptly reached out and took Guin in his arms, half dragging her from her chair. Guin scarcely had time to realize what he was about. With an efficiency quite at variance with his usual lazy air, Lord Holloway pinioned her arms behind her with one ruthless hand. With the other he captured her head to hold her still for a bruising, very thorough kiss.

Guin made an inarticulate protest and tried desperately to free herself. But Lord Holloway’s arms tightened until she was practically bent backward over the chair back. Tears started to her eyes with the stabbing pain in her captured wrists and arms. She was utterly helpless as he possessed her mouth avidly.

When Lord Holloway at last raised his head, he stared down at her with a hot-white light in his eyes. He was breathing rapidly. His words were soft, insidious. “You will not say anything, will you, Miss Holland? You will not say anything to your dear mother. No, not when she so ardently wishes me to wed you. She would be so very angry with you, would she not?”