June Calvin (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

I
f Davida had been disturbed by the encounter with Elspeth at Vauxhall, she was almost devastated when, two evenings later, she entered the withdrawing room at the Duke of Ormond’s ball to discover Elspeth following right behind her.

“Miss Gresham, may I speak with you?”

“Of course, Lady Elspeth. What may I . . .”

Abruptly Elspeth began to cry bitterly. “Oh, I love him so much. Why did I give him up? Why?”

There was a great deal more in this vein. Davida awkwardly attempted to comfort the girl. At last the blonde gained control of herself and stepped away, her back to Davida.

“It’s me he loves, you know,” she murmured.

Davida said nothing. She couldn’t assert the contrary. Though Pelham seemed very fond of her and openly appreciative of her good qualities, he had certainly never pretended to love her. She felt her heart beating heavily in her breast, a sense of dread weighing her down.

Correctly interpreting her silence, Elspeth turned to Davida, a look of triumph on her face. “He does! He loves
me
! He’d marry me in a moment if we were free!”

“But you aren’t, Lady Elspeth. By your own choice, I might add.”

“I would break off with Whitham. I know now it was a terrible mistake to become engaged to him. I only did it to punish Monty. But you’ll never let him go, and he’s far too honorable to break off himself, even though it’s me he loves.”

Davida drew back in horror. This was what she had most feared. Struggling for self-control, she measured her words carefully.

“I would never hold Monty against his wishes. My parents, my father would cut up rough if I cried off, but you see, I love Monty, too. I want him to be happy. If his happiness truly lies with you, I’ll break our engagement somehow, if I have to run away to do it.”

Elspeth reached impulsively for Davida’s hands and squeezed them. “Oh, thank you, thank you, Miss Gresham. You are the best of friends to us both. He said you were a good-hearted girl.” She turned and swirled out of the room, leaving Davida feeling as if she’d been thrown and trampled.

She found her mother and told her she had a headache. “I’ll get Monty,” her mother said.

“No, let’s just go and leave a message for him. He is enjoying himself in the card room. I hate to call him away.”

Her mother gave her a strange look. “I don’t think he will like that.”

“Truly, Mama, I don’t want to cling to him too tightly. He may come to chafe at being forever in my pocket, whether he realizes it or not.”

So they ordered Monty’s carriage, leaving a message with their hostess that they would send it back for Lord Pelham as soon as they reached their destination.

In the carriage Davida told her mother what had happened. Lady Elizabeth protested, “Oh, my dear, she
can’t
try to reclaim him now. We are little more than two weeks from the wedding.”

“I tried to tell you and Papa how it would be.”

“And besides, she will surely find your fiancé unwilling to end your engagement. I am persuaded he is very fond of you, Davida, and then it is not at all the thing . . .”

Davida dropped her head back against the squabs. “Fond, Mother! How can that weigh against a deep attachment? And do you think I can bear to trap him in a marriage he doesn’t want, merely out of propriety?”

“Say nothing to your father, Davida. He will not be at all easy to deal with. No sense upsetting him unless we know it is absolutely necessary. You must discuss the matter with Monty and determine that it is truly what he wants, first.”

Pelham was on their doorstep at ten the next morning. “I’ve come to inquire of Davida’s health. She left the ball early last night complaining of the headache,” he informed her father, who was still reading the paper over his breakfast.

“Ah, yes. Davida is lying abed this morning. I think she is a little pulled by all of this activity. Elizabeth has gone off already on one of these eternal fittings. Be glad you’re not a female, m’boy. They spend half their lives buying clothes and the other half changing into and out of them!”

Pelham grinned his agreement and companionably accepted his future father-in-law’s invitation to join him for coffee. “Then I’ve got to push off. Know you won’t credit it, but I’ve got a fitting, too. Blue coat.” He groaned. “Why do weddings have to be in the morning?”

Pelham’s first hint of Elspeth’s broken engagement was just as he was leaving the master tailor Weston after his fitting. Lord Threlbourne and Arnold Lanscombe called to him from across the street.

“What’s to do, Gil?” Pelham asked after he dodged traffic to join them.

It was Lanscombe who replied. “Town’s buzzing. Lady Elspeth has broken off her engagement with Whitham.” He watched eagerly for some sign of emotion in Pelham.

“So Elspeth is playing off her tricks on Donald, eh? Well, glad it’s his problem now and not mine.” Whatever was in his mind, Pelham’s countenance was perfectly composed and gave away nothing to the gossiping dandy.

“Betting is already going into the books at White’s, Monty, that it
is
your problem.” Threlbourne’s look was accusatory. “Odds on favorite that you’ll break off with Davida Gresham and take a run at Gretna with Elspeth or some such.”

“Gretna? With Elspeth?” Pelham’s astonishment was genuine. “Surely you didn’t lay your blunt on that side, Gil.”

The red-haired lord shook his head sadly. “Not betting on this one. But the word is, Davida left without your escort last night, just after a tête à tête with Elspeth in Ormond’s withdrawing room. The two of you have been joined at the hip since your engagement, so it’s not surprising people are wondering.”

Fury was Pelham’s primary emotion at this moment. “The witch,” he exploded. “It would be like her to tell Davida her plans, and worse. I must be going.” He turned abruptly and dashed for his curricle, held at the ready for him by his tiger.

At the Greshams’ he found confirmation of his fears in Davida’s face. Her shadowed eyes looked at him with anxiety as he entered the drawing room. Several people were seated there, callers avid to share the latest
on-dit
with the Greshams, no doubt. With great effort, Pelham forced his expression to be pleasant and relaxed.

The silence that descended when he entered told him all too clearly what was the topic of discussion.

Briskly crossing the room, Pelham took Davida’s hand and drew her to her feet under the watchful eyes of her parents and their visitors. “Sorry to rush you away from your guests, dearest,” he drawled, kissing her fingertips lovingly. “But we are invited to tea with my mother. I believe she wants to show you the Pelham jewels this afternoon. Had you forgotten?”

The relief in her parents’ eyes and the quick murmur around the room told him his strategy was successful, at least with everyone but Davida. She walked ahead of him like a condemned woman to her execution.

It was a cool, misty day, more like March than May, and Pelham had brought his landau, with the top up. He handed Davida inside and took his seat beside her before she could protest the lack of a chaperon.

“I am sure your reputation will survive a three-block drive with your intended,” he responded when she became agitated.

“That does not signify just now. Oh, Monty, is it possible you haven’t heard?” Davida searched his face anxiously.

“Heard what, Davie? I’ve heard nothing that concerns you or me.” He picked up her hand and drew off her glove.

“Don’t Monty. Listen. Lady Elspeth has cried off.” She tried to tug her hand away, her voice choked.

“Oh, that. Yes, I’d heard. She’s getting to be a regular jilt.” He carried her hand to his lips and began to press light kisses on her wrist and palm.

It was wicked of him to tease her so. Indignantly she confronted him. “Don’t pretend it’s nothing to you, Monty. I know . . .”

“You know nothing if you think I still want Elspeth! I wouldn’t have her. She is fickle, in addition to all her other faults.”

“Give over!” Davida cried. “If ever there was a time for complete honesty, this is it. You know you want me to cry off so you can marry her, and I will. I won’t hold you to your engagement, Monty.”

“No, you won’t cry off. Now, Davie, listen to me.” Pelham spoke vehemently. “If you were to cry off, and I were perfectly free to do so, I wouldn’t marry Elspeth Howard. I decided the day of the picnic that she and I wouldn’t suit. I won’t pretend it didn’t cost me some pain to give her up, but it was the only solution. We are chalk and cheese. I thank goodness that I found out in time.”

“Oh, Monty, are you sure?” Davida felt a rising tide of joy within her as she crept into the arms Pelham gently wrapped around her.

“Not only am I sure and certain that Elspeth and I
won’t
suit, I am equally as sure that you and I will. My delight with you has grown day by day, Davida Gresham.” He tilted her chin up so he could look her squarely in the eyes. “I am literally counting the hours now until you will be my bride.”

Davida sighed and raised her head for the kiss he was intent on bestowing. She savored the delicious fiery bubbling sensations that ran through her. “I can hardly wait, either.”

Thus delightfully occupied, it was several minutes before the couple became aware that the carriage had stopped outside the Pelhams’ town house, an imposing mansion in the most fashionable street in town.

“Do I look disheveled?” Davida tested her hair and patted at her clothes.

“No, though I am afraid you do have a look about you.” The mischief was dancing in those cobalt eyes.

“What . . . what sort of look?”

“Oh, the look of a girl who’s been thoroughly and expertly kissed.” He smiled smugly as he handed her down from the carriage.

Davida gasped, cheeks pink. “I can’t face your mother like that!”

“Nonsense. If she’s heard this latest
on dit
, nothing is like to reassure her more.”

“Reassure? I am persuaded she would far rather have Lady Elspeth for a daughter-in-law.”

“You are fair and far out there, my girl. She already had her doubts, and when Elspeth got herself engaged to Whitham, Mother washed her hands of her.”

Though Davida was dubious, Pelham’s mother had never been less than completely cordial to her, and it seemed that she bent over backward to be gracious this day. “Perhaps she hasn’t heard yet,” Davida whispered as she stood frowning at her reflection in a mirror. Pelham was arranging an elaborate collar of diamonds around her neck as his mother sorted through jewelry boxes laid out on a long table in the back drawing room.

“Let’s find out. Have you heard the latest, Mama? Lady Elspeth has ended her engagement to Lord Whitham.”

“Yes, you wretch, of course. Several tabbies practically broke down my door to tell me this morning. Did she have the town crier spread the news, I wonder? Here, Davida, these emeralds will become you far more. That piece is too heavy. Monty, you must have them remounted for her. I never liked them either.”

“Exquisite,” Pelham applauded when Davida had donned the ornate gold-wire-and-emerald necklace.

“Yes,” his mother agreed. “It’s an old piece, but not as heavy as the other. Davida wears it well. My dear, you must wear it for your come-out. Or, no, I collect it will not go with your gown?” At Davida’s nod, she suggested, “Then to the Raleighs’ ball?”

“Oh, but should I, before we are married?”

“It will be little more than a week away by then. I don’t see why not, unless it won’t go with your gown. Ah, I knew there were matching earrings.” Lady Pelham lifted them triumphantly from the cascade of precious stones before her. “Try them, too.”

Feeling truly relaxed and happy for the first time since her betrothal, Davida cuddled next to Pelham in the landau on the way home, the box containing the Pelham emeralds in her lap. She was finally convinced it was she Pelham wanted to marry, and she felt truly accepted by his mother.

“What a wonderful day,” she sighed as she leaned against Pelham’s shoulder.

He grinned and put his arm around her, drawing her close and dropping a quick kiss on her lips.

“You look happy, for once.”

“I
am
happy. Oh, Monty. I will try to be a good wife. I think we can deal very well together, don’t you?”

“I grow more sure of it with each passing day.” A surge of tenderness went through Pelham at her radiant face tilted up to him. She was a delight. How lucky he was to have found her.

In this self-congratulatory mood, Pelham took Davida home and then returned to his own to dress for dinner.

That life was not always going to be quite so pleasant he quickly realized when his butler greeted him with a bit of unwelcome news. “There is a . . . ah . . . person, to see you, my lord,” Hilton informed him. “She is in the library.”

Chapter Seventeen

“
A
‘Person,’ Hilton?” Lord Pelham stared at his dignified butler. He was not accustomed to such visitations as were so many other pinks of the
ton
, and he felt somewhat nonplussed.

“Yes, sir. A young lady, it is, veiled. Didn’t give her name, but I am sure you’ll want to see her, my lord.”

It’s Elspeth, as Hilton damn well knows
, Pelham guessed with a sinking feeling. The wily butler would have been unlikely to put an unknown female in Pelham’s favorite retreat. He entered the library reluctantly.

“Close the door,” a too-familiar voice commanded, and then the veiled hat was tossed aside to reveal Elspeth, dressed in an almost transparent leaf green muslin that heightened the green of her eyes and displayed her charms blatantly.

“What are you doing here, Lady Elspeth? You must leave at once.” His coldly angry voice lashed out at his visitor.

“Don’t, Monty. Please, listen to me. You obviously haven’t heard.” Lady Elspeth held her hands out to him dramatically. “I’ve broken my engagement to Whitham.”

“Of course I’ve heard,” Pelham responded coolly, ignoring the invitation to embrace her. “Is there anybody in England who hasn’t?”

“I thought . . . you might be more pleased to see me.”

“I am engaged to be married, Elspeth. Your being here is a serious embarrassment.”

“But you can break off your engagement. I know that Miss Gresham will agree. She told me so last night. She told me she wanted you to be happy. She’s a very generous, good-hearted person.”

“Yes, she is, and a great deal more than that, and I haven’t the least desire to end my engagement to her. Moreover, I am furious with you for approaching her. She was most upset.”

Pelham had warily kept a tall-backed sofa between himself and Elspeth. Upon hearing these discouraging words, she collapsed in a heap upon it and began weeping inconsolably.

“I’ve lost you forever. It’s all my fault. Oh, I am so miserable I want to die,” she gasped out between sobs.

So affecting was her desperate sobbing that Pelham came to sit beside her and pat her shoulder ineffectually. “Don’t, Elspeth, please. We shouldn’t suit, you know. All we ever did was quarrel.”

“Oh, Monty.” She turned toward him, lifting a tearstained but very lovely face to his. “Please forgive me. I know I’ve been difficult, but surely you still love me. Can love die so quickly?” She pressed herself against him, throwing her arms around him and bringing her lips to his.

“Here, now.” He took her arms and tried to push her away. “Quite some behavior from the miss who wouldn’t even let me kiss her when we were engaged. Didn’t even seem to like it, now I think on it.”

“I know I seem cold to you. But I’ve been brought up so strictly. I thought it was wrong. I asked my mother, and she explained about men and the . . . the intimacies of marriage. You’ll have to teach me, to show me how to make love.” Her eyes seemed huge in her lovely face. “I’ll be a willing pupil,” she whispered, pressing against him again.

It was very difficult for Pelham to resist this shapely, gorgeous creature when she offered herself to him so openly. He felt the dull throb that was the beginning of desire. How often had he dreamed of sharing passionate kisses with this delectable beauty? When Elspeth put her lips to his again, he gave in to temptation and bent to return the kiss, drawing her fully into his enfolding arms.

Her fervor was overwhelming. She kissed him back, running her hands through his hair and writhing against him. Aroused by her response, he deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue past her open lips and probing within.

Elspeth gasped and drew back, rigid with shock. “How can you! You did that deliberately to give me a disgust of you.” A look of horror on her face, she dealt him a hard slap.

Pelham recoiled, his face flushed except for the imprint of her palm on his cheek. “No, Elspeth, God forgive me. What I did was let passion overcome me for a moment. Men have a tendency to do that when curvaceous young females throw themselves at their heads.”

A dull red suffused Elspeth’s face. “You cannot mean I’m supposed to
let
you do such a disgusting thing to me? Does
she
let you do that to her? Davida Gresham must be a wanton degenerate to . . .”

Suddenly Davie’s trusting face as she had looked up at him full of joy not many minutes before flashed before Pelham’s eyes.
What am I doing?
he wondered.
Not only am I betraying her trust, I am about to hand her over to the tabbies.
He was under no illusions as to how Davida’s reputation would fare if Elspeth began spreading such notions about. He jumped up.

“No, she doesn’t. Miss Gresham hasn’t so far forgotten herself as to tempt me into such behavior.”

Elspeth gasped indignantly, but he continued without mercy. “She would never present herself alone in a man’s library, nor throw herself at him, as you have done with me. Have a care, Elspeth, or you will become scandal broth.”

“A
m
I supposed to let you kiss me that way?” Elspeth was truly puzzled.

“No, no more than you were supposed to come here in the first place, Elspeth.”

“Then
she
won’t let you either, if she is so proper!”

“There is a time and a place for such lovemaking. I am quite confident that when I do kiss Davida passionately, after we are married, she will not be disgusted. She is a loving, warmhearted girl, and you, Elspeth, are cold and shrewish. Now, please leave.”

He took her hat and placed it firmly on her head, drawing the veil over her astonished face as she gasped for words. “You can’t mean that,” she wailed. “You love me. I love you.”

“No, Elspeth, I don’t love you. If I ever did, which I begin to doubt, it’s gone now. And you don’t love me. I doubt if you can. You just want me to dance to your tune again. But I never will. If for no other reason, I would not do anything so shabby to Davida Gresham. But there are many other reasons, so give it up.”

He finished tying the veil firmly in place and propelled her to the door. “I hope you find happiness, Elspeth, but it can’t be with me. Now please go, and do not come back.”

After his unexpected visitor departed, Lord Pelham sank into his favorite leather chair and brooded gloomily on the fact that he had so easily fallen prey to Elspeth’s charms.
Pray God Davida never knows of this incident
, he thought.

That evening as they arrived at the Malcolms’ ball, Davida was happier than she could ever remember being before. Not only was Pelham attentive, but he obviously took pleasure in her company. Feeling the security of knowing he truly wanted to marry her, Davida let her love show. She blossomed into a radiant creature so alive to Pelham’s every mood that it seemed to her that he was already the other half of herself. Even though he had never spoken of love, she felt sure he cared for her. Surely love would follow, as her mother had suggested.

It wasn’t difficult for Pelham to maneuver his willing fiancée onto the terrace and tempt her into a stroll in the Malcolms’ garden. Some part of Pelham wanted to know the answer to the question Elspeth had raised in his mind. What would Davida’s response be to a truly passionate kiss?

She giggled and came willingly into his arms when he pulled her off the lighted path and into the shadows. At first he kissed her as he always had, gently rocking his lips over hers until she melted against him. Then he deepened the kiss. At the touch of his tongue she opened her mouth almost instinctively. When he plunged inside, she was startled. For an instance she stiffened, and then on a long, shuddering breath opened fully to his exploration. When he finally pulled away, breathing heavily, she was gasping for breath, too, her nostrils flaring with passion. She clung to him, weak-kneed.

“Oh, Davida, what you do to me.”

“
I
do to
you
!” She snapped, mock-indignant. “I like that. You kiss me almost senseless, then accuse me . . .”

“Not accuse you, my love. Praise you. You thrill me with your affectionate nature. I can’t tell you how much I look forward to our wedding night.” He pressed her against himself, letting her know how much he desired her.

Davida was glad of the covering darkness, for her cheeks were aflame. She turned a little away. “Monty, please! How am I supposed to compose myself?”
He called me his love
, she thought, her heart soaring.

Pelham looked wildly around. “Forgive me. I almost forgot where we were.” He led her to a strategically placed bench. “Sit here with me a moment and then we’ll go in.”

Shyly she looked up at him and nodded, and he sat sideways, facing her, holding her hands and gently swinging them. The moon lightly gilded her dusky curls and kissed her heart-shaped face. He let his eyes roam all over her possessively. “This is a little taste of hell,” he murmured.

“I beg your pardon, sirrah.” She flashed those brilliant eyes at him, tossing her head.

“Yes, to have just a taste of heaven when one cannot enjoy the entire dish is a kind of hell.” He grinned at her. “Let’s go back in before I kiss you again.”

***

The following morning the ladies Gresham returned to their modiste, Madame Poincarré, for what Davida devoutly hoped would be the last fitting of her come-out ball gown. This gown, so long planned, had to be refitted because she had, in the frenzy of activity of the last few weeks, lost weight.

As Madame Poincarré clucked over the changes, Davida regretted once again her mother’s insistence that she wear white for this occasion. She liked it as little as she had liked her court gown and all those hideous white ostrich plumes.

But if ever a girl must be completely proper and conventional, it seemed, it must be at her coming out ball. So Davida had allowed herself to be draped in white satin, overlaid with white spider gauze. To be sure, the gown was trimmed with blue satin at the bodice, high waist, sleeves, and the hem, where the gauze was caught up in scallops with large blue rosettes. Her father had presented her with an exquisite necklace featuring sapphires to help reconcile her to the gown, which she had complained made her feel like a wedding cake.

But Davida felt considerably less grumpy now as the dress was refitted. The thought of weddings was no longer distasteful or even unsettling to her, and she daydreamed a little about her coming nuptials.

The alterations were minor, and Lady Elizabeth arranged to have a footman pick up the gown late in the afternoon.

As they entered the carriage, Davida’s mother studied her daughter’s face. “I believe we will stay home tonight. We could do with a quiet evening,” she suggested. Monty had already informed them that he had long since accepted an invitation to dine with his mother at the home of one of her oldest and dearest friends. Since the lady was reclusive, he had not felt comfortable requesting the inclusion of his fiancée.

Davida agreed gratefully to her mother’s suggestion. With preparations for a ball and a wedding underway, in addition to a full social calendar, she was nearly exhausted. And last night, after they had returned home from the Malcolms’ ball, she had been unable to sleep for reliving, over and over, that astonishing kiss that Monty had given her.

She wished she could discuss the sensations it had caused in her body with her mother, but she had a notion that it had been a very improper kiss, and was afraid to broach the subject.

On the way home from the modiste, they called on Sarah, to see what progress was being made with the ball. The duke’s very capable secretary had come to town two weeks earlier to open the Harwood mansion and see to any redecorating that was needed.

When the Greshams were announced in Lady D’Alatri’s drawing room, they found a very downcast Lady Sarah awaiting them. “What is the matter,” Davida asked, rushing to her friend’s side.

“My father writes that he is not coming to London for the ball, after all.” All of Sarah’s usual bounce was gone; she was the picture of dejection.

Lady Elizabeth let out an exclamation of dismay. Sarah’s aunt nodded her head vigorously. “It is just too bad of Justin. It is understandable that he hates the mansion where his wife died. It has such unhappy associations for him. But he has a daughter. He owes her something!”

With heavy hearts the women completed plans for decorating the ballroom in flowers that would echo the ducal colors of blue and cream. Streamers of silk in the same colors would drape from the ceiling, and be hung with shimmering silver stars. It was not the most original decorating scheme in the world, but Sarah had had little interest in anything elaborate, and the Greshams had been forced to follow her lead.

After completing their conference, the ladies sadly departed, Lady Elizabeth exclaiming over the duke’s defection all the way home. “It is just wrong, for Sarah’s sake. And then—gracious! The Prince Regent is coming. How will it look to him?”

When they reached the Gresham home, Davida’s mother headed straight for her father’s study and poured out the tale to him. Davida stood in the doorway, listening. Her mother told the story almost as if her father could do something about it.

To her amazement, Sir Charles behaved as if he could, too. “That won’t do, won’t do at all. He shall have to come. One doesn’t invite one’s sovereign to a ball and then not show. Send Robert to me.”