How To Build The Perfect Rake (12 page)

‘Ollie! I mean… Miss Grayson,’ Luc began,
appalled.

She cast him a wry look, biting her lip. ‘Oh
dear. Too honest?’

‘Very much so!’

Lord Howe, however, was not in the least
offended. In fact, he appeared to be completely charmed. ‘Miss
Grayson,’ he drawled, a smile curving those long lips, ‘you are
delightful. Refreshingly so. I hope to come to know you
better.’

‘Perhaps, if you are very discreet you might
manage it,’ she twinkled back at him. ‘My aunt is remarkably
watchful but she has been known to lower her guard upon
occasion.’

‘Then I must bide my time and take my
opportunities,’ Howe murmured. And with a bow to Olympia and a nod
to Luc, he left them, along with a sense of considerable disquiet
in the exasperated Luc.

Chapter Six

‘Honestly Ollie, that was… was…’

‘Was what?’ she demanded, watching the tall
figure of Lord Howe disappear into the crowd.

‘That was hoydenish!’

‘How so? I thought I was perfectly
polite.’

‘You called him a rake and told him that
your aunt did not think him a suitable acquaintance.’

‘All of which is true.’

‘Yes, but you don’t
say
so!’

Olympia turned to look up at him, slightly
exasperated. ‘Oh don’t be such a fusty creature Lucien St James. He
was not in the least offended.’

‘No,’ Luc agreed bitterly, ‘but I’ll tell
you what he was. Interested.’

Olympia arched an eyebrow. She had been
feeling much better ever since the arrival of her brother. With
Jasper in tow, she and Aunt Flora had come along to the fete fully
expecting to have a good time. She had been anxious to find Luc,
knowing that she had been rather short with him earlier in the day
and keen to make amends. He had called around at Martin Street with
an olive branch, after all and she had been less than agreeable. So
she had been delighted to spot him in among the crowd. It had been
rather a treat meeting the wicked Lord Howe but now it seemed Luc
disapproved of the exchange.

‘I am not about to be seduced by a rake, you
foolish creature. Mama wouldn’t approve at all.’

Fortunately, this was exactly the right
thing to say for he relaxed and laughed, despite himself. ‘I cannot
believe she would have approved of your conversation with him
either.’

‘Yes, but she didn’t hear it, so it does not
matter. Although she’d hear about me falling for such a scamp fast
enough and then I would have the wrath of my entire family fall on
my head. Besides, Jasper is about somewhere and he is even more
disapproving than you of unsuitable men.’

This diverted him, as she had known it
would. ‘Jasper is here? When did he arrive?’

‘This afternoon. It was a surprise, but a
delightful one.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Oh, about somewhere.’ She waved a vague
hand, not at all inclined to tell him that her brother had gone in
search of Carisse to evaluate the situation and perhaps make
himself known to the Beauty. She was feeling a little guilty about
interfering with her friend’s chances but, as Jasper had pointed
out, if the girl was silly enough to cast her eyes – and her
attention – on to the next man who took an interest in her then she
hadn’t really been keen on St James in the first place. It had made
perfect sense, but it still did not stop Olympia from feeling a
tiny bit traitorous, just the same. She linked her arm through his
and tugged him forward. ‘Come along. You can show me the other
pavilions and this extraordinary contrivance that the prince is
apparently holding court in. I must say, I’m very glad I came. It
is all quite wondrous.’

Together, they explored more of the night
fete and the more they saw, the more entertaining it became. There
were acrobats and fire eaters, jugglers and a troupe of exotic
dancers dressed in scarlet and gold, their eyes heavily lined with
kohl, circlets of jangling gold coins around their wrists and
ankles. Olympia stopped to watch them, wide eyed as they undulated
with the smooth movements of serpents to music that was played on
harps and cymbals, double pipes and bells, while the deep, driving
beat of drums drove the sensual sound forward. The dancers, six
exotic beauties that rippled and rolled to this alien sound flashed
bare bellies and a great deal more dusky naked skin than Olympia
was used to seeing, while the male musicians playing were similarly
attired.

‘My goodness,’ she whispered, ‘how
extraordinary!’

Luc tugged her away after a few minutes,
inwardly wriggling with discomfort. ‘I think we’ve seen more than
enough of that!’

‘On the contrary, I feel
singularly enlightened. What an
interesting
performance.’

‘It seems hardly proper for public
entertainment.’

‘It must be. I am sure the prince would not
put on anything of questionable moral value.’

Luc gave a snort of laughter, knowing full
well that the Prince Regent was far too fond of questionable
pursuits. Much of the time it was left up to his courtiers to rein
him in and curb his more dubious excesses for it was doubtful that
he could identify what was appropriate any more. Still, it was a
night fete and a little bit of risqué was only to be expected,
perhaps.

Each of the pavilions had
been given a different theme; the first had been a magnificent
flower bower, of course and the second a forest glade, complete
with small children dressed as fairies who flitted around offering
tempting morsels of food to guests as they set foot inside. The
enormous tent had been constructed around a large tree and smaller
ones had been brought in to create a forest-like effect. The third
pavilion beyond that was an Egyptian themed arena – where the
dancers were enthralling the fascinated crowd – and beyond
that
, the last and most
splendid of all; a miniature reproduction of the famous Hall of
Mirrors to be found in the French court at Versailles. A glittering
spectacle greeted their stunned eyes as they looked at the arching
columns on either side of the space that had been designed to curve
towards the ceiling above them. A magnificent chandelier hung in
the centre, with smaller ones placed along the length of the room.
To one side, a stringed orchestra played Viennese music while
couples twirled to the strains of a waltz. It was by far the most
brilliant display so far and Olympia paused on the threshold to
gasp, truly astonished.

The spacious wooden parquetry floor that
contained the dancers stretched all of one hundred feet in length,
along which ran arched mirrors, miniature replicas of the real
thing, lining either side of the room and throwing the light of the
dangling chandeliers back at them. Above them a painted ceiling, a
smaller rendering of the rather splendid scenes that covered the
ceiling of that extraordinary apartment in Versailles, although
instead of the French heads of state greeting royal dignitaries in
the original, the Prince Regent had had himself inserted rather
prominently in various friezes redolent with a sense of august
ceremony. Olympia stared around her, awestruck.

‘Have you ever seen the like of it?’

‘No,’ Luc replied, voice wry, ‘nor can I
imagine what it all cost. Our Prince Regent is like enough to
bankrupt the monarchy before he even takes the throne.’

The man in question, George Augustus
Frederick, was not to be seen for it seemed that there was one
other wonder to behold. The hall of mirrors was but a path to a
final piece of artistry. They traversed the length of the room,
avoiding the couples that were immersed in the magic of Mozart,
emerging on to a kind of light bedecked terrace. From here a path
wound down to the Serpentine itself and it was here that Prinny
sat, surrounded by his favorites who tended to laugh uproariously
at anything he said. Olympia paused, looking at the small barge
that had been designed in the shape of a swan, hovering on the dark
surface of the water. It was very impressive, long swathes of white
silk caught up along its sides in the shape of sweeping feathers.
The graceful neck and head had been fashioned on the prow, the
artistry so good that it really did seem that there was a giant
bird floating on the Serpentine.

‘Oh… my goodness!’ Olympia whispered,
astonished.

Luc merely shook his head. There was no
doubt that their future monarch had a flair for the dramatic, among
other things. His talents would have done better in Drury Lane than
on the throne, for he certainly knew how to put on an event.

‘Do you want to go down and make your
curtsey?’

Olympia looked at the
small crowd dubiously. There were rather a
lot
of people, paying their respects
to the Prince Regent, undoubtedly congratulating him on such a
spectacular display. They clustered on the riverbank and the barge
itself, crossing over the water by way of a flower festooned arched
bridge.

‘Do you know,’ she said meditively, ‘I do
not think I care to interrupt him at this time? He is obvious very
busy.’

Luc feigned surprise. ‘Why ever not? He
likes nothing more than to pinch the cheeks of pretty young things
and invite them to tell him how wonderful he is.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed, having already received
no less than two cheek pinches since coming to town, ‘that’s
exactly what he likes. Let’s go and find Jasper and Aunt Flora
instead.’

Luc chuckled but readily turned around and
headed back the way they had come. ‘Coward.’

‘You try having your cheek pinch by a rather
smelly middle-aged man before you pass judgment,’ she advised.

‘Smelly?’

‘Have you never noticed? He reeks of
expensive scent with something rather more nasty lurking
underneath.’

‘It is said that too many bathes cause
illness.’ Prinny was well known for his terror of illness and,
consequently, his reluctance to embrace regular bathing.

‘It might be said, but not having a regular
wash is a very unappealing trait in a man, even if he will be the
king of England one day.’

‘Poor Prinny,’ Luc shook his head, ‘how
fortunate he cannot hear such unkind comments. He thinks he’s all
the crack.’

‘I know. Extraordinary, isn’t it?’

They found Jasper before they found Aunt
Flora for he was far more obvious, dominating a small group of –
mostly males – who were glowering at him with varying degrees of
disgust. It quickly became clear why for he had engaged Miss
Houghton in animated conversation. Somehow, he had repelled her
devoted ménage and was standing a beside her, murmuring what
Olympia presumed were the sweet nothings in her shell pink ear.
Whatever he said was clearly pleasing for she was laughing, looking
up at his handsome face with delight. Olympia was familiar with her
brother’s smooth line of patter; he and Thaddeus had been using it
to woo susceptible females since they had emerged from the
schoolroom. It went over well back in Warwickshire and, if
Carisse’s expression were anything to go by, it was going over well
now.

Beside her, Luc groaned. ‘Dear God! The
devil is making up to my intended!’

‘She’s not your intended yet,’ Olympia
pointed out. ‘And I’m sure that he is doing no such thing. Well,
not seriously anyway. Jasper is not yet in want of a wife. Or so he
tells me.’

‘He’s the same age as I am.’

‘Yes, but not nearly as serious. He has
specifically informed me that he intends to flirt with as many
females in as many counties as he can before he is leg-shackled and
so far he’s only managed four of them. He still has a great deal of
ground to cover.’

‘Which is exactly the kind
of thing your wretched brother would say!’ Luc observed ruefully,
approaching the pair just as Carisse put back her head and gave a
silvery laugh. Mentally, Olympia rolled her eyes. Some females
sounded like jackdaws when they laughed but of course the Season’s
Beauty
would
tinkle melodically.

Jasper saw Olympia first and grinned, before
giving Luc an affable nod. ‘There you are sis. I was wondering
where you had disappeared to. I see you’ve found St James.’

It was most unlikely that he had been
wondering anything of the kind, but she forbore to comment.
Instead, she turned her attention to Carisse who was looking
unusually mellow, even offering Olympia a brilliant smile. Olympia
knew her duty.

‘Miss Houghton, how lovely you look
tonight.’

‘Why thank you. You’re dress is very… ah…
pretty,’ Carisse said vaguely, before shooting Jasper a look from
beneath her lashes, ‘I confess, I did not realize that you had a
brother Miss Grayson.’

Which was odd, as Olympia had mentioned her
siblings on at least three occasions that she could recall,
although probably more often than that. She did tend to rattle on
about them. ‘Now how could I have forgotten to mention it? I have
four of them and they are so difficult to forget.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Jasper reassured her,
‘I always like being something of a surprise.’

Luc, who had been standing
to one side observing all this with grim blue eyes, raised an
eyebrow at Mr. Grayson. ‘What are
you
doing in town?’ It came out
rather more sulkily than he had clearly intended it to and he
flushed a little.

‘Why come to call on my sister, what else?
You’re looking very dashing St James. You must give me the name of
your tailor.’

It was a generous thing to say, especially
as Jasper Grayson personified dashing. His tall person was clad in
a blue satin coat, black knee-breeches and a rather elegant
waistcoat of Chinese silk that bordered on being daring. Like
anything he wore, he carried it off with aplomb. When they wanted
to, the Grayson boys could brush up very nicely indeed.