Duel of Hearts (6 page)

Aunt Laurelia and Sarah have been most Kind and Welcoming and have given me the Rose Bedroom again, a room which I particularly like for its Ornate Furnishings and wonderful feather bed. I'm sure that they would have sent their Best if they had known I was writing you
.

Well, Papa, I shall say Goodnight, even though I don't think I shall sleep a wink knowing that London lies right outside my window. Thank you again for Letting me Come. Your Most Loving Corianne
.

By the time Corianne climbed into bed, the clock in the hallway was striking two. She was asleep before the sound of the chimes had faded away.

Sarah, in the bedroom down the hall, found sleep more difficult to capture. She couldn't keep herself from wondering if Corianne's
Edward
was indeed the fascinating gentleman who had come to her rescue that night two years ago and whose face was so indelibly etched on a page of her memory. Edward Middleton. If Corianne's escort were truly the man she remembered, the name suited him. But why had she jumped to the conclusion that Edward Middleton and her erstwhile rescuer were one and the same? Just because in each case the man had been described as “a neighbor from Lincolnshire”?

Of course, how many neighbors could one have in such a remote, thinly populated area? And of the few neighbors one might have, how many would be
bachelors?
(The man was obviously a bachelor if he was free to leave his home to jaunt to London in Corianne's wake.) These were the clues that led Sarah to believe that Edward Middleton was the man.

On the other hand, the gentleman she remembered had been completely besotted over Corianne. Would such a man be likely to escort the girl to London to help her accomplish what was obviously her purpose—to catch herself a husband? No, it was not at all reasonable to think a man would cooperate in a program designed to destroy his hopes. Therefore, it was quite possible that Sarah was lying awake and troubling her mind about nothing.

But if Edward Middleton
did
turn out to be the man, it could certainly be an awkward moment for Sarah when they met again. If he
remembered
the humiliating situation in which they'd last met, she would be hideously embarrassed; if he did
not
remember it, it would be even
more
painful to her, for it would be devastating to realized that she'd made no impression on the man at all!

She tossed about in bed, realizing that she was upsetting herself for very little cause. Nevertheless, if Edward Middleton
should
turn out to be the unknown rescuer, and if he
should
show signs of remembering the dreadful scene at which they'd met, Sarah felt the need to prepare herself. If she could only find the right words to say when she greeted him on the morrow—something carefree and witty and casual—she could ride smoothly over a potentially mortifying moment. But how
should
she greet him? Should she use the straightforward, direct approach? (“How do you do, Mr. Middleton? It's been so long since you rescued me from ravishment in a back room.
Do
let me offer you my belated thanks.”) Well,
that
would hardly do.

Should she pretend to have forgotten the entire matter? (“Squire Middleton, you say? No, I'm sorry, but I can't say I remember you at all.
Where
did you say we'd met before?”) But she couldn't carry that off. She disliked that sort of insincerity.

Should she brazen it out with a joke? (“You say you rescued me from the advances of a
bounder?
Oh,
la
, my dear man, someone's
always
doing that!”) She giggled to herself, but she knew that such a remark was too unladylike.

Nothing she could think of seemed suitable. After struggling with the problem for most of the night, she decided to banish the subject from her mind. She would leave the entire matter to fate … where in truth the matter had always been anyway.

Chapter Four

C
ORIANNE WAS IN
a state of quivering agitation the next morning. If only Edward would make an appearance before noon, so that she would have a chance to convince him to permit her to go to Lady Howard's luncheon! If he did not come in time, Lady Stanborough would leave without her, and she would be forced to spend the afternoon either at home with her cousin Sarah or on a sightseeing tour with Edward. She didn't know which of those two choices would be the greater bore! At the luncheon, on the other hand, she would be able to meet Lady Howard's splendid guests, she would play a card game or two, she might find an opportunity to begin a flirtation, and she'd undoubtedly receive an invitation from someone for some other festivity. It was a chance to begin the social “round”—and
that
, after all, was the reason she'd come to London.

Calculatingly, Corianne dressed herself in her best jaconet round-gown (its ruffled collar admirably accenting the curves of her breasts, and the azure color accenting her remarkable eyes), knowing that Edward particularly liked this dress and would more easily be persuaded to permit her to go. Then she waited in the drawing room in agonizing suspense for the sound of his carriage to arrive at the door.

As noon approached, her nervousness increased. With a kind of desperate optimism, she picked up her hat and went to the mirror which hung over a table near the door. It was the perfect bonnet to wear at an elegant luncheon: a straw-colored bergère hat with a thick, softly curled blue feather pinned to the front. She put on the hat, tied it in place with a blue satin ribbon and smiled at her reflection with satisfaction, Edward would never be able to refuse her now! If
only
he would
arrive
!

She resumed her pacing, crossing from the window to the doorway (stopping at the former to look out for Edward's carriage and at the latter to listen for her aunt's footsteps), the enticing little plume on her hat bobbing impatiently as she moved. The clock in the hallway struck noon, and shortly afterward she heard a step on the stair. The sound made her wince—her aunt was ready to leave. She flew to the doorway to try to persuade her aunt to wait a few more minutes, but it was only Sarah who was descending the stairs. “Oh, Sarah!” Cory cried in perturbation. “He hasn't yet arrived!”

Sarah patted the girl's shoulder sympathetically. “Don't worry about it, Cory. If you
should
have to miss the luncheon, it will not be so dreadful. I always find Lady Howard's luncheons to be quite tedious.”

“
Tedious
! How can you say so? The one I attended when I was last here was perfectly
thrilling!
”

Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Well, you were much younger then. It is quite possible you will feel differently now that you're a grown-up young woman of twenty.”

Corianne looked at her cousin doubtfully. “Will I? That is hard to believe. Sarah, do come into the drawing room with me and keep me company. I'm as nervous as a cat.”

Sarah hesitated. “Well, I
had
intended to go to the study to work on the household accounts …” she demurred. The truth was that Sarah intended to hide away until Edward had paid his call and left. She had not had a pleasant morning and had finally decided that the better part of valor was to retreat.

She had arisen earlier with every intention of dressing with special care and facing the meeting with Edward with all the charm and self-confidence at her disposal. But when she'd looked into her mirror and had seen the damage her sleepless night had done to her appearance, she'd been considerably discouraged. Her eyes were darkly underlined, and her cheeks seemed almost ghostly. To add to her frustration, her hair resisted all attempts to tame it into a semblance of neatness. She'd tried three different arrangements, all without success, and had finally given up in discouragement, piled it on top of her head, pinned it firmly and covered it over with her cap. Then, since she already looked so old-cattish, she had pulled out of her wardrobe the morning dress she liked least in the world—a loosely fitting, faded yellow muslin—and had made up her mind to hide from the world for the rest of the day.

She'd breakfasted in her room, spent the morning with the housekeeper mending linen in the little sewing room on the third floor, and had then determined to pass the entire afternoon with her account books. Now Corianne was asking her to sit with her in the most public room of the house, where Edward Middleton would be certain to be shown the moment he arrived! It would be quite rude of her to refuse Corianne's request for her company, but surely fate did not intend for her to have to face the gentleman looking her very worst!

But fate is not to be anticipated easily. Her mother's footsteps on the landing above them gave her a blessed reprieve. “Oh, there's Mama,” she said to Corianne in relief. “She'll keep you company, I'm sure.” And without giving Corianne a chance to reply, she whisked herself down the hall to the study.

Lady Stanborough appeared at the top of the stairs, her costume indicating that she was quite ready to leave. Her bonnet was in place, her velvet spencer had already been thrown over her shoulders, and she was buttoning the last button of her glove. Corianne's hopes were completely dashed. But the knocker sounded at that very moment—Edward had arrived in the nick of time! He handed his hat to the butler just when Lady Stanborough reached the bottom step. “
Edward
!” Corianne clarioned ecstatically.

Lady Stanborough stared at the gentleman in considerable surprise. “You
can't
be Squire Middleton!” she exclaimed.

Edward grinned broadly. “That news comes as a great shock to me, ma'am. I've spent many years under the impression that I was.”

“But … Corianne gave me to understand that you were quite
elderly
.”

Edward's grin became mocking as he threw Corianne a sardonic look. “Did she indeed?” he asked drily.

Corianne giggled and ran to him eagerly. “I
never
said you were elderly,” she whispered as she enveloped him in a hug of delighted relief. “I'm so
glad
you've come. I was beginning to be afraid I would have to spend the entire
day
at the window watching for you.”

Lady Stanborough, while waiting for her niece to complete her effusive greeting, used the time to examine the Squire from the top of his cropped hair to the bottom of his blunt-toed boots. The man was certainly a surprise to her. In spite of his coat (which had obviously
not
been cut by a London tailor), his britches (which were far from being in the latest mode), and his boots (which were so worn that they might almost have been termed
shabby
), the man was really quite presentable. Very attractive, in fact. If he could be made a little less “countrified” in his manner of dress, he might be very useful to have on call. It was always far more pleasant to attend evening functions under the escort of an impressive man than to arrive unescorted. Perhaps his presence in London might be less of a nuisance than she'd thought.

The gentleman having acknowledged Corianne's puppy-like greeting with avuncular propriety, Lady Stanborough advanced on him with her hand outstretched. “Well, well, Mr. Middleton, how delightful that you've come in time. I understand you wish to speak to me before Corianne and I go out this afternoon.”

“Yes, Lady Stanborough, if you can spare me a moment or two.”

“Several, my dear sir, several. Come into the drawing room, and we shall have a comfortable coz. You must tell me how my brother does. I've not had a word from the man in months.”

Edward hesitated. “I wonder, ma'am,” he said, throwing a look at Corianne which told her plainly he wanted her to leave, “if our … er … interview could be private.”

Corianne, who had already crossed the threshold of the drawing room, pouted. “I don't see what you have to say to my very own aunt that I can't hear.”

Edward glared at her and then turned to Lady Stanborough. “You must excuse Corianne, your ladyship. I only hope you will not believe, from her example, that country manners are so unequal to those of town.”

“Mr. Middleton is quite right, my dear,” Lady Stanborough told Corianne flatly. “One must take the greatest care not to appear in the least vulgar.”

Corianne lifted her chin haughtily. “I was not aware that expressing one's feelings was vulgar. I apologize, Aunt Laurelia.”

“There's no need, my love,” Lady Stanborough assured her. “Just excuse us for a few minutes. I'd be much obliged if in the meantime you'd try to find Sarah and tell her I wish her to make herself known to Mr. Middleton.”

Corianne nodded and curtseyed, but her expression remained piqued. Edward ignored it and followed his hostess into the drawing room, turning to close the door behind him and flashing a teasing grin at the irritated Corianne before shutting her from view.

Lady Stanborough sat down on her favorite striped-satin loveseat. “Well, sir, what is it you wished to tell me that Corianne should not hear?” she asked frankly, motioning Edward to the wing chair opposite.

He took his seat and looked at her in some awkwardness. “I feel you deserve some explanation of my position here, Lady Stanborough. I've escorted Miss Lindsay here at her father's request. He feels that she is too young and inexperienced to be left to her own devices in London, and he's asked me to … how can I put this?… keep a fatherly eye on her.”

Lady Stanborough fumed. “My brother is an overstrung, jittery
fidget
! Doesn't he think
me
capable of taking proper care of his precious babe?”

Edward had anticipated just this sort of reaction and was quite prepared to deal with it. “Of course he does, ma'am. You misjudge him. You see, he surmised—being quite familiar with Cory's little tricks—that the girl had wormed her invitation out of you. He wishes me to tell you how grateful he is to you for your kindness in granting her this London holiday, but the last thing in the world he wants is for you to take on the same burden you so obligingly assumed during the month of her presentation.”