Julia Justiss (11 page)

“Which is quite peril enough!”

“Come now, Captain, I’ve been in the stews of Bombay and the hovels of the Peninsula, outridden bandits and a contingent of pursuing French cavalry. I’m not afraid of what I might find on any London street. Besides,
if I am to decide what sort of funding will be required, I must review the situation myself. A lady’s eye is likely to see needs a man would never notice.”

“That may be true,” he admitted. “Mayhap I should bring a female servant along.”

“And should the necessity arise, a female servant would be better able to protect herself than I am?”

He had to concede her that point. “Probably not.”

“Most assuredly not!” she corrected. “I have more experience fighting off ambush than anyone you could enlist, save another soldier.”

“That may be so, but I still cannot permit it.”

She glared. “Do you want my assistance or not?”

He stared at her, torn between the desire to help the unfortunates and the need to protect her. When her implacable gaze did not waver, finally he said, “If your assistance comes at the risk of your person, then no, I no longer request it. I’d best get you home now.”

Belligerence fading, she lifted pleading eyes to his. “Please, my lord! I…I’ve felt so useless since leaving Brussels. This is important, Tony. Please let me help.”

Whether it was empathy for a fellow survivor of war now searching for some purpose in life—or the sweet sound of his name on her lips, he found himself weakening. “How could I live with myself if something happened to you?”

Her brilliant smile told him she knew she’d won. “Nothing will. And besides, you shall be right there to protect me. If you refuse to take me, being now aware of the situation, I might have to canvass the city on my own.”

“Good Lord, Jenna,” he cried, his stomach clenching at the thought, “promise me you will do nothing of the sort!”

“I think I shall send for Evers—Papa’s batman, you’ll
remember—to conduct the search. Besides,” she said, wrinkling her brow as she set her horse in motion, “though providing food and clothing is a beginning, these people need more than a temporary helping hand. They need homes and jobs. Should not Parliament do something about it?”

Tony set his horse to match her mare’s pace. “When the issue was brought up before Parliament, I understand, the Tories vociferously denounced the very notion of awarding pensions or provisions to veterans.”

“Could you not stand up and argue for them?”

“’Tis my father who holds a seat, not I—one I don’t believe he’s ever occupied.” He laughed shortly. “I doubt he could find his way to Parliament, unless the building also shelters either a gaming house or a brothel.”

She cast him a thoughtful glance, no doubt hearing the bitterness in his words. “Then we must do all we can. Thank goodness it’s barely noon! We should be able to get dinner cooked and delivered before dark.”

“So you are set upon going with me?”

“With you or—” her eyes took on a wicked gleam “—without you. The ‘going’ is not open to question.”

“If anything untoward happens to either of us,” he said, torn between admiration and exasperation, “I shall never forgive you!”

She gave him an upward look through her lashes that was almost—provocative. “Then I suppose we shall just have to stay very close and keep each other safe, won’t we?”

Staying very close—now that was a directive he’d have no trouble obeying. “While dinner is being prepared, I’ll summon the sergeant and some of his mates to provide an escort for when we return with the provisions.”

“Famous,” she said, nodding. “I begin to believe that we might get on well together after all.”

Spirits soaring at the idea of being able to help the soldiers—and keep Jenna near him, he couldn’t help giving her a wicked grin. “Oh, I certainly hope so.”

“Rogue!” she admonished without heat. His spirits rose higher. Perhaps he might earn her esteem after all.

As they neared the park gates, Tony spied two figures on horseback emerging from Rotten Row. Apparently spotting them as well, the couple halted. The gentleman leaned close to the lady, as if conferring with her—or trying to steal a kiss—and then rode off in the opposite direction, while the lady proceeded toward them.

The ton didn’t ride in the park until much later. Had they stumbled upon a tryst? Tony wondered with a smile.

They reached the gate at the same time as the lady. Perhaps Jenna hadn’t seen her, for it seemed as if she would continue through without acknowledging the woman.

“Why, it’s Lady Fairchild, isn’t it?” the rider called, guiding her horse to block Jenna’s path.

Not until the lady turned in the saddle toward Tony did he recognize her: Lucinda Blaine, Countess of Doone.

“L
ORD
N
ELTHORPE
!
How nice to see you,” the lady cooed.

“A pleasure to see you again, too, Countess.” Out of the alcoholic fog of the past, Tony recalled having followed his friends in pursuing the “Lovely Lucinda” after her marriage to a very rich earl. Apparently the thrill of snaring the old man’s money and title hadn’t charmed the Beauty for long, for as a bride of several months, she’d already been willing to offer him kisses—and the promise of more, though he’d had to flee London before he’d been able to try his luck redeeming them.

Lady Doone waved a graceful hand. “How formal you’ve become! You used to call me ‘Lucinda.’” She fluttered her lashes at him, an intimation of intimacy thick in the air.

Though Tony found it annoying that she’d make so blatant a gesture in front of Jenna, he also knew that Lucinda Blaine, acclaimed as one of the Diamonds of the ton since her debut season, was unable to resist trying to entice any gentleman she encountered. Probably because she’d married an old dried stick a generation her senior.

Though he had no desire to add his name to the list of cisebos she kept dangling, he didn’t mind flirting with this undeniably beautiful woman—especially if it showed Jenna that
some
women still found him attractive.

“Countess, I should not dare be so familiar with a lady of such high rank, even if she were an…old friend.”

She laughed, evidently pleased with the flattery. “But one never forgets one’s friends. One’s dearest, most
intimate
friends. Do you not agree, Lady Fairchild?”

“I’m sure you have much more experience in that than I,” Jenna replied, her voice decidedly frosty.

Given that before her marriage to the earl, the countess had been engaged to Garrett Fairchild, Tony could understand Jenna’s reserve. In fact, he recalled, when Tony had joined the Fighting Fifth in Spain, Garrett had still been pining over Lucinda’s defection.

“Oh, Lady Fairchild, I expect we have more shared…experience than you would like to think,” Lady Doone said. “Tony, I’d heard you’d finally returned from Brussels. In company with Lady Fairchild, perhaps?”

After Lady Doone’s sly jab at Jenna, whatever mild inclination Tony had to bandy words with her evaporated. And since Lucinda Blaine was not only a hopeless flirt, but the worst of gossips, he’d better squelch the potential rumor of her second comment before it could begin.

“Alas, no…unfortunately for me. I didn’t meet her again until the memorial service for Colonel Fairchild.”

“Poor, dear Garrett!” The countess sighed. “To have lost him just one battle away from having him return to us for good! We held each other in the tenderest of regards.”

“So tender, you broke your understanding with him to marry the earl,” Jenna observed.

“But Garrett understood the necessity of it—my father’s debts so great and the earl promising to be so generous. Besides, in the end—” she smiled at Jenna “—he forgave me
most
graciously.”

Observing the grim set of Jenna’s lips, Garrett decided she’d endured enough of Lucinda Blaine’s baiting.

“We mustn’t detain you further, my lady,” he began.

“Indeed, I’m sure your husband must be wondering what has become of you,” Jenna inserted.

Suppressing a grin, Tony continued, “Your devoted servant, Countess. Lady Fairchild, shall we depart?” With a brief bow to Lucinda, Tony kicked his horse into motion, Jenna immediately following.

Behind them, the Beauty sat in openmouthed astonishment that Tony had dared to ride away—before
she
dismissed
him.
He’d likely made an enemy there.

But getting Jenna away from Lucinda had seemed more important. He glanced over at her, noting that the color that had warmed her cheeks after their gallop had now vanished, leaving her looking pale and drained.

Perhaps it had been too soon after her accident to have urged her to ride. “Are you fatigued?” he asked with concern. “We could stop at Gunter’s for some ices.”

“No. I want to go home.”

Anger and frustration swelled his chest as he realized that their interlude with Lucinda Blaine had effectively chilled the air of camaraderie that had warmed him during their ride. He cast about for some way to retrieve it.

Perhaps a frontal assault would be best. Hoping he wasn’t about to make matters worse, Tony rode in front of Jenna’s mount and halted, forcing her to pull up as well.

“What’s wrong, Jenna? I hope you didn’t let the Countess of Doone’s nasty remarks upset you. She seems to need to imply every man she meets find her fascinating.”

“You gave her no reason to doubt that supposition,” Jenna snapped.

Had
Jenna been a bit jealous? Pleased in spite of himself, he said, “A man may admire a showy bauble without coveting it for his own.”

“But if it once
was
his own, does he ever stop regretting its loss?” she asked softly.

Tony threw her a sharp glance. Surely Jenna couldn’t doubt that her husband had found his way free of whatever spell Lucinda Blaine had once cast over him.

“No intelligent man keeps a shiny bit of glass after he’s discovered that ‘pearl of great price,’” he said.

When she turned to look at him, Tony was horrified to see tears in her eyes. “What if he thinks to have both?”

She did have doubts. Incredulous at the realization and torn by the obvious distress on her face, Tony protested, “You can’t truly believe Garrett had any warm feelings left for Lucinda Blaine!”

“How can you be certain?” she flashed back. “You two were never friends.”

“True. But after you were wed, I was threatened with the direst retribution if I so much as approached you. He guarded you as he would his most precious possession.”

“Perhaps he didn’t want to share this particular bauble.”

It must be her weakened physical state that made her prey to these nonsensical doubts. “Come now, Jenna, do you not think you are letting yourself make too much out of a vainglorious woman’s innuendo?”

“Perhaps not this time, but—” Catching herself, she turned away, her face coloring. “’Tis no matter. Doubtless you are correct.”

Had Lucinda Blaine plagued her on some other occasion? Tony wondered, his aggravation with the Beauty increasing. From what he knew of the woman, he didn’t doubt her capable of such malice. “What
else
did the countess say to you?”

“You are right,” Jenna mumbled, “I’m being foolish.”

Tony made no move to let her pass. “If you want a
disinterested opinion about the value of whatever she said, you might as well tell me the whole.”

He held his breath, waiting for her to brush him off and ride away. But evidently the doubts preying upon her were disturbing enough that she felt compelled to air them, even with him, for after a moment she said softly, “The other night, I encountered her at Lady Charlotte’s party.”

Understanding dawned swiftly. “So that was why you wanted to leave so abruptly. What did she say?”

“She claimed that when we were in London last spring, Garrett came to visit her. He was gone a great deal then, busy with the details of trying to mobilize an army. He might easily have stopped to see her, even…spent the night.”

“And that thought is what sent you fleeing?”

“No. Considering the possibility of it hurt, though it angered me more that she could make me doubt him. But then she said that with the death of his child, I now have even less to remember him by than she does. She sounded positively—
triumphant.
I care nothing for her gloating, but losing the babe…” Jenna took a shuddering breath.

There should be, he thought furiously, a special ring of Hades for petty, vindictive beauties like Lucinda Blaine. Aching for the pain in Jenna’s voice, he said, “As you know better than anyone, Garrett was a man of impeccable honor. Even if he harbored a trace of affection for his former fiancée—which I doubt—he would never insult you or dishonor his vows by trifling with her.”

He had the pleasure of seeing her troubled brow lighten a bit. “You truly believe that?”

“I truly do.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry to be a spiritless creature. Let us go to work now. We have din
ners to prepare, clothes to procure, and all of it to deliver before sundown.”

She nudged her mare back toward the street. Tony guided Pax to follow, conversation ceasing as they picked their way through the traffic. As they reached the townhouse, Tony asked, “Shall I see you in?”

“No, I must go purchase foodstuffs so your cook can begin work. As soon as I’ve done that, I shall shop for the necessary clothing, then continue on to North Audley Street. If that is agreeable?”

Gratified as he was that she trusted him enough to call at his home, Tony knew he couldn’t allow it. “I’m afraid it isn’t. Didn’t your cousin tell you a lady never calls at the home of a single gentleman?”

“How ridiculous! Since the food is being prepared at your kitchen, ’twould make more sense to set out from there. Your cook—and Sancha—can safeguard my virtue.” A little smile lit her eyes. “And I still carry that knife.”

“I stand forewarned,” he replied. “Still, it simply won’t do. The women who call upon my esteemed sire are certainly not ladies. If you were to be seen anywhere near my doorstep—” in his mind flashed the image of a pouting Lucinda Blaine “—the malicious of the ton would delight in making mincemeat of your reputation.”

“For calling at your kitchen?” she scoffed. “Accompanied by my maid, a handcart full of clothing and bound upon a mission of mercy? If that is the stuff of scandal, then I care little if my reputation is lost.”

“Spoken like one confident of her good name,” he replied a little grimly. “You, who have lived an irreproachable life, can have no notion of how unpleasant it can be to be considered a byword.”

She gave him a long, searching glance. “I suppose it
must be unpleasant, to have all the world ascribe to your every thought and action the most depraved of motives.”

Her observation striking too uncomfortably close to the mark, he made no reply.

“I flatter myself that my true friends have sufficient faith in my honor, and as for the ton—people will believe what they choose. Besides, I shall hardly come garbed like a ton lady. If you can contrive to find a pony cart to transport our supplies and dress yourself inconspicuously, I daresay even you may not be recognized outside your own kitchen. So, shall we say about three?”

She was coming—to him. A sense of gladness much more intense than he should have felt suffused him. Still, he made one last attempt to do the right thing. “If you insist upon coming to deliver the supplies, ’twould still be more prudent for me to meet you here.”

“Oh, Nelthorpe, give over!” she said. “’Tis nonsensical to waste time detouring here and you know it. Only recall your years in the army! Do you really want to deprive these poor unfortunates of the pleasure of having their meat and bread still warm when they receive it?”

He did indeed recall the intense delight he’d felt, after days or weeks of cold beef and stale bread, when circumstances permitted the troops to enjoy a hot, freshly cooked meal. His mouth almost watered at the memory.

She watched his face, smiling. “I shall see you this afternoon at North Audley Street.”

“Managing baggage, aren’t you?” he asked wryly.

“Absolutely.” She started up the stairs, then paused at the landing. “We shall have quite an adventure!”

In that instant, she was once again the Jenna of the Spanish plains, buoyant with enthusiasm and confidence. He couldn’t help but smile back when she winked at him before the door opened to admit her.

The warmth of knowing ’twas his project that had
brought the sparkle back to her eye and the purpose to her step glowed within him all the way home.

A
FEW HOURS LATER
,
stripped to his shirtsleeves in the warmth of the kitchen, Tony was helping Betsy load fresh loaves of bread into baskets when the maid admitted Jenna, garbed in a gray cloak over a nondescript gown of gray kerseymere, and her maid Sancha.

The scowl on Sancha’s face and the flashing look in her dark Spanish eyes told him she was none too happy about the latest scheme into which he’d embroiled her mistress.

Despite the modesty of Jenna’s apparel, with her brown eyes glowing and wisps of hair curling about her determined face, she looked incredibly lovely. Gone was the vacant-eyed, passive wanderer whose appearance had so shaken Tony on the bridge at Hyde Park. Though he knew he shouldn’t have allowed her to take part in this rescue mission and definitely should have forbidden her to meet him here, still he couldn’t help a surge of gladness at seeing her.

“You look dressed for intrigue,” he said.

“And you look—” She halted in midsentence, her eyes roving from his face to his partly unbuttoned shirt to the rolled-up sleeves that displayed the muscles of his arms.

A bolt of pure physical energy flashed between them, stirring him down to his toes and strengthening him in all the right places. He’d had hints since their reunion in London that she still felt the physical pull that had drawn them in Spain, but nothing as strong or as clearly telegraphed as this. For the first time since he awoke after Waterloo in the shattered, permanently disabled body he now inhabited, he felt—virile.