Dangerous Weakness (6 page)

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Authors: Caroline Warfield

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Chapter 10

Pembrook’s ballroom radiated heat, noise, and the odors of seething humanity. Lily sat next to Roger Heaton and tried to formulate ways to discourage the man.

“Would you join me in a refreshment, Miss Thornton?” An unfamiliar baritone overrode pretty words from Roger Heaton, who had been attentive, too attentive, all evening. She allowed him only one dance, but he hovered all evening just the same.

“Refreshment?” the stranger repeated.

Lily hesitated another moment. The young stranger’s dark face over a pristine, fashionably knotted neckcloth did not belong to an Englishman. She recognized him as one of Sahin Pasha’s aides.

Heaton watched the man sharply; he put a protective—and in Lily’s opinion, presumptuous—hand on her arm.

“Have we met?” Lily asked, removing Heaton’s hand.

“We were introduced at Chadbourn Park,” the man said with a rueful smile.

A lie, but a charming one. This is one of the “farmers” at the inn.
One of the horse thieves
, she thought.

She searched the room for Sahin Pasha and found him chatting with the Duke of Argyll. He did not appear to be aware of Lily’s presence, but she knew better.

“Of course, I remember now,” she chirped, carefully avoiding names since she had no idea what this handsomely dressed gentleman called himself. “I would indeed like refreshment.”

She thought Heaton might try to stop her, but good manners prevailed. She could feel his eyes following her. She liked Roger Heaton well enough, but she wasn’t prepared to give him exclusive attention.

“What do you really want?” she whispered to her escort when they approached the refreshment table. He smiled down at her and melted away. She turned to find Sahin Pasha helping himself to cake. The sight did not astonish her.

“Ah, Miss Thornton,” he crooned. “Always a delight.” He took her plate and began to fill it with sweets.

“And you, too, favored uncle,” she said. She made no effort to keep sarcasm from her voice.

“I know we parted on difficult terms,” Sahin said.

“Difficult, favored uncle? You underestimate,” Lily said. She leaned toward the plate and whispered for his ears only, “It might have been catastrophic.”

“Was not your marquess protective?” She followed his eyes across the room where Glenaire stood next to his mother. She watched him lead Lady Sarah Wharton to the dance floor; she saw his mother’s grim satisfaction. The girl carried herself with a perfect mix of confidence and fragility. Her coiffure and gown reflected the height of current fashion exactly.

They make a beautiful pair; Lady Sarah is born to his world.

“He isn’t my marquess,” she said, “But yes. The marquess protected me.”
From everything but himself.

“My apologies if I misread the situation,” the old man said, watching the pair caught up in the dance. “Necessity drove me.”

“I accept for myself, favored uncle, but my father—”

“Is he not in London, little one? I had hoped to see my friend, John Thornton, here.” The old man shrugged. “Travel this time of year . . .”

“Alas his travel has been delayed for repairs in Copenhagen,” she said. “The Foreign Office can only do so much.” She took the dish of sweets she would never eat and lifted her skirt. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’ll take my leave.” They had begun to draw attention.

The old man nodded gravely. “I am in your debt, I fear. If you ever have need of my help, you know you can come to me,” he said.

Lily circled the edge of the dancers and put the entire plate of sweets on the tray of a footman stationed by one wall. She wondered if she would ever seek Sahin Pasha’s help again.
The first time ended in—
In what Lily? Disaster?

Her stomach felt queasy, and she needed air. Pembrook’s ball had been the sad crush she anticipated, but no crowd of suitors surrounded her this time. Only one name other than Heaton graced her dance card. She wasn’t sure if she should be disappointed or relieved. She doubted that any of the callow young men would want a wife who had been unchaste.

What if there are consequences?

She thought she would seek out Chadbourn and his countess. The earl had come at Catherine’s insistence. He loathed balls. Lily began to see his point. Georgiana had shamed Lily into coming but stayed away herself. Lily tried not to give in to resentment. She stood in a ballroom stuffed with London’s highest society and felt more alone than she had her entire life.

She inched her way along the side until she came within feet of Catherine and the earl. She greeted her friend with a smile and walked forward, colliding with one of the dancers just leaving the floor.

“I beg your pardon,” she began. A man’s hand steadied her. She turned to find Glenaire’s intense eyes seeking hers. She took a step back.

“Miss Thornton. I didn’t know you were here.”

Horsefeathers. You know everything.

“I came with the Earl and Countess of Chadbourn,” she replied, giving Catherine a pleading look.

“We insisted,” Catherine said, coming forward.

“And we’re glad we did. Doesn’t she look lovely?” the earl added. Lily thought laughter lurked in his eyes, but she couldn’t see anything humorous. He seemed to be studying Glenaire.

“The dress becomes you,” Glenaire said, searching her person rather more thoroughly than Lily found comfortable. His eyes came to rest just where her mother’s pearls lay at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, a place his mouth had found frequently the night they—

I will not think of that
, she told herself firmly.

“It suits you,” the young woman on Glenaire’s arm added. Lady Sarah studied Lily avidly and watched the marquess with a proprietary air.

Glenaire snapped his attention away from Lily. “Lady Sarah Wharton, may I present Miss Lily Thornton. Miss Thornton’s father is in service to the Foreign Office.”

Lady Sarah nodded in acknowledgement and smiled. “It is good of you to take an interest in the people who serve under you,” she said. Her smile held no sweetness.

“The dress does become you,” Lady Sarah went on. “Most women could never wear that shade of green,” she said.

“Lily is lucky it shows her eyes to perfection,” Catherine rushed in.

“One finds that some people look well enough in gowns that are not quite the height of fashion,” Lady Sarah crooned. “You are to be congratulated, Miss Thornton. Isn’t she, Glenaire?” She sparkled up at him.

Lily’s dress had come from Saint Petersburg by way of Paris. It had subtle sophistication and none of the flounces popular in London ballrooms.

Glenaire ignored the beauty at his side. Lily squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.

“Glenaire?” Lady Sarah repeated.

“Miss Thornton does not require the changing whims of fashion to look well,” he said.

“Quite so,” Catherine agreed. Lady Sarah’s smile grew wider and less sincere.

“Your gown is exquisite,” Lily said to Lady Sarah. She told the truth.
It must have cost the moon. She will make a beautiful ornament on his arm if they marry.

Lady Sarah nodded her head as if to acknowledge the deference of an underling.
That one is born to lord it over us mere mortals. They make a perfect pair.

A discreet tug on his arm, one Lily didn’t miss, must have alerted Glenaire to his partner’s impatience. He made his bows and walked away. They moved slowly enough that Lily couldn’t miss Lady Sarah’s question as they did. “Who is that woman? Is she someone who matters?”

“An empty-headed debutante,” Catherine mumbled.

“Not so empty,” Lily said. “She is quite bright, and she knows what she wants.”

“I don’t like her,” Catherine said with characteristic bluntness.

“She’s the Duchess of Sudbury’s choice for Richard,” the earl pointed out.

“Yes, but is she his?” Catherine asked.

“He has said as much,” her husband sighed. “I don’t think he feels much enthusiasm. That may be why he delays. He seems to be waiting for something.”

Waiting for me,
Lily thought.
Waiting to hear if he must do his duty to impending offspring. What had Glenaire told Chadbourn?

“They make a perfect pair,” she said out loud. “Lady Sarah was born and bred to be a duchess.”

The earl grunted. “She’ll turn out like his mother. He will hate it.”

“I think not,” Lily said. “He will merely work around it as long as she adorns his table, just as he works around his mother.”

“All London waits for an announcement. If he stretches it much longer, he won’t be able to get out of it,” Catherine said.

If he waits for news from me, he is waiting in vain.

Lily pleaded headache and found herself escorted out in quick time by the earl and his Catherine, both relieved to be free of the heat, the gossip, and the ugly machinations of the social climbers. Lily followed in silence.

I need to tell him I’m not increasing. There is no point in waiting.

Chadbourn looked at her quizzically when he handed her into the carriage. She attempted a reassuring smile and came to a decision.

I will reassure Glenaire there is no baby—even if I’m not sure it’s true.

Richard dismissed Pembrook’s ball from his mind as soon as he ordered his man of business to send “Roses, yellow, two dozen should do,” to Lady Sarah Wharton. He found it harder to dismiss Lily Thornton.

Lady Sarah’s pedigree is sterling.
He forced himself to remember that
.
His parents had certainly forced his attention to it at least twice the evening before.
Lily Thornton brings intelligence and an independent streak that would be attractive in sons,
his rebellious mind retorted.

He pushed women from his mind and attempted to concentrate on the massive walnut desk from which he presided over the far-flung affairs of England. Its carved handles and brass fittings usually gave him a sense of order. Neatly organized stacks of reports, dispatches, and work to be accomplished surrounded him. Today, his thoughts refused to cooperate.

Lady Sarah’s perfect manners and social connections make her an ideal political hostess,
he reminded himself. Again the second thought came unbidden.
Lily Thornton understands the subtle undertones of diplomacy. She knows Turkish and Russian, and I suspect her French is—

He ran a hand over the back of his neck.
She won’t have you, Richard. Be done with it.

Castlereagh had demanded his analysis of the growing unrest in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies. He stared at the untouched notes scattered across his desk. Word from Naples sounded dire. He wondered what Lily would make of it.

Enough! Make your addresses to Lady Sarah Wharton or don’t. You can’t seriously consider Lily Thornton as the future as Duchess of Sudbury, even if she would have you.
A vision of his mother presiding over dinner at Sudbury House prodded him to look at his work.
Why not
? a traitorous voice whispered in the vicinity of his heart.

He pulled more minor affairs closer. Four embassies requested increased funds. An outpost in Canada requested troops, the seventeenth man in two months having gone absent and disappeared into the frontier. Their agent in the Duchy of Werltvelt reported dalliance between the crown prince and the consort of a neighboring baron.
Could I suggest a devious solution?
Troubling information that came from an interrogation at His Majesty’s Prison at Millbank required a carefully phrased warning to the governor on Gibraltar. A trade report from the Sultanate of Johor on the island of Singapura arrived inconveniently late; a meeting with appropriate men of business had to be scheduled.

Beneath them all lay one small note on fine vellum. He snatched it up, broke the seal, and flipped it open.

To the Marquess of Glenaire

My lord,

The business we discussed at Chadbourn Park had a positive outcome. No further action is needed.

Your obedient servant,

Miss Lilias Thornton


A positive outcome
.”
Can a woman tell as soon as a month?
Richard’s unease turned to disappointment—an irrational, absurd disappointment.
Of course she can, you fool. Lily Thornton’s folly spared her an unfortunate birth. Honor satisfied. Be relieved.

He pushed away from his desk.
It was my folly
, he chided himself. He paced to the window, something he never did, and it irritated him. His own irritation annoyed him further.
Why can’t I let it lie? I do not let petty emotions rule me
. His emotions seemed to have other ideas.

An ornate watch, pulled from a cannily designed pocket in his waistcoat, ticked steadily.
One-thirty, still time for a “morning” call
, he thought.
I may as well use the time. I’m accomplishing nothing here.

The latest in his constantly shifting parade of secretaries came running at the sound of Richard’s bell.

“I will be out the rest of the afternoon.”

Too well trained to show any surprise he might have felt, the young man dispatched a footmen to call for the marquess’s carriage. Richard retrieved his hat and tapped it on his head.

Perhaps I will call on Lady Sarah. She will have received my token by now.

The piles on his desk drew his attention. The far right, as always, indicated “Urgent Matters.” The stack looked taller than usual. He remembered Castlereagh’s demands and almost changed his mind.

“Tell Heaton and Stewart I may return this evening,” he told the secretary.

After I visit Jackson’s saloon to find someone who would like a thorough pounding.

“You needn’t wait,” he added.

Richard ignored the curious eyes of clerks, ogling the sight of the Marble Marquess leaving early, and walked directly to the main stairs.

Lady Sarah will be pleased by a call.

He stepped out into the sun to wait for his coachman.

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