Lady Beware (20 page)

A
s the next week progressed, Thea's mother remarked at regular intervals how satisfactorily things were going. Thea had to agree, even though she missed Darien. She hardly saw him, and if she did encounter him at some social event, he was engaged with a Rogue and friends of Rogues.

Military men with Major Beaumont, though that sector was mostly on Darien's side anyway.

Reforming politicians with Sir Stephen Ball.

Diplomats with the Earl of Charrington.

Even when she didn't meet him, she could follow his adventures in the press.

While Thea was enduring an afternoon literary salon featuring Mrs. Edgeworth, Darien was racing horses at Somers Town under the aegis of that famous horse breeder and heir to an earldom, Miles Cavanagh.

While she was at a very dull dinner, he attended a gathering of scientists called the Curious Creatures. She'd never heard of them, but wasn't surprised to discover that Nicholas Delaney was a founding member and that many eminent men of science belonged.

He attended a one-night party thrown by the Duke of St. Raven at his country house called Nun's Chase. The journey there and back was a horse race. Lord Arden won in one direction and Van in the other.

Maddy was the one to tell her that Nun's Chase had been the scene of scandalous goings-on before St. Raven's marriage, and that this one had been tame by comparison.

“Strictly gentlemen only,” Maddy said to Thea and two other fascinated young ladies at Lady Epworth's Venetian breakfast.

“How do you know?” Thea asked, feeling dull again.

“Cully was there. Disappointed that there were no Cyprians at all. All riding, fencing, shooting and such, which he enjoyed as much or more, but he wouldn't admit it. Darien's a dead shot, but so is Lord Middlethorpe, apparently. They dueled over it forever.”

“Dueled!” Thea said in alarm.

“Only in the sense of contested. Shooting at targets at greater and greater distance.”

“No wonder Almack's was thin of company that night,” Alesia said. “It really is too bad, and he is, after all, a Cave. I still don't trust him.”

Thea managed not to argue, but only because it would do no good. Alesia was a twit.

But then good news swept everything else from Thea's mind.

Dare was through the worst and recovering. He planned to soon travel to Long Chart to complete his recovery there before the wedding, which was fixed for June 24.

He made all sound very well, but Mara wrote separately to say he'd lost an alarming amount of weight and was weak as a kitten, so he would need to rest for a while before any journey. Even so, Thea and her mother hugged each other and even cried a little for joy.

When Thea met Darien at a rout that night, the good news spilled out before she remembered the enmity between him and Dare.

“You must all be delighted,” he said.

“Are you?” she asked, surprised to realize she could ask such a question now. “Or is Dare still your enemy?”

“No, I've outgrown that. I truly wish him well.”

She smiled. “I'm glad.” She wished they could talk longer, in some place other than this hot room, with people all around.

She missed him. That was startling.

“I gather you've been attending scientific gatherings,” she said.

“Submarine warfare, no less.”

“Does such a thing exist?”

“Yes, actually. The Americans almost got it to work in the late war, and there are records of attempts going back a century or more. Even a theoretical plan for a man to go underwater and apply a bomb to the hull of a ship.”

“You needn't sound so enthusiastic,” she complained, but smiling. “What if you were on the ship at the time?”

“That's the trouble with advances in warfare. The other side always catches up.”

They chuckled together. Thea saw her mother waiting to leave, but she lingered.

Darien was so much more relaxed now than when she'd seen him at the Netherholt rout. She couldn't say he was surrounded by universal approval, but even the members of the ton who were still cool had wearied of shock and horror.

“So, how does the campaign progress?” she asked.

“Well. Your mother's beckoning. Let's work our way toward her.”

“So keen to be rid of me?” she dared to tease.

His look was quick but intense. “Never.” But then he smiled at a young man who came over. “Thea, do you know Lord Wyvern?”

Thea had to smile at the young earl when she'd much rather have had a few more minutes of Darien alone. “Yes, of course. He's from my part of the world.”

She dipped a curtsy and Wyvern bowed, but rolled his eyes at the same time. “Don't know why I allowed myself to be persuaded up to London. Give me the country and the coast any day. I'm off in search of fresh air, if such a thing exists in London at all.”

“His arrival in Town provided an excellent distraction,” Darien said, watching him depart, “given the furor over his inheriting the title. As he's brother-in-law to Amleigh, I assume the Rogues arranged it.”

“Wheels within wheels,” Thea said. “How clever.”

The new Earl of Wyvern had been the previous earl's estate steward, unaware that he was the man's legal son. Of course the old earl had been completely crazy, so no one was completely surprised that he'd created a mess even of marriage and offspring.

They'd arrived at her mother. There, Darien took Thea's hand and bent over it, his eyes holding hers. “Remember,” he said softly, “I'm dutifully paying my price, and you must do your part.”

“I will,” Thea said, and he turned to disappear into the crowd.

I can't wait,
she thought after him. At the Harroving masquerade, she would have him to herself for a whole evening. But for now she had to go in a different direction, to a poetry reading that held no appeal whatsoever. Tomorrow, however, was Friday.

Only one day to wait until her reward.

Friday itself seemed to plod along, but at last Thea could dress in her goddess costume. She found herself both excited and nervous. Soon he'd be here, but what if he thought this costume absurd?

What if his attentions to her had always been manipulative and he felt no attraction toward her at all? What if he
was
as strongly attracted to her as he seemed, and took this outré costume as encouragement to be wicked?

At least she was armed, though the point and blade of her halberd were sadly blunt.

But how much did she want to fight him off? This could be one of their last encounters. They'd not received word yet that Dare had left Brideswell, but it couldn't be long. She and her parents might leave Town for Long Chart as early as Monday. Her father would return to London for parliamentary business, but she and her mother would stay in Somerset with Dare until going to Brideswell for the wedding. By then the season would be over.

This insane adventure would be over.

Her life would probably return to order and calm. She wanted that, but not quite yet.

She surveyed her appearance one last time, suppressed temptation to back out, and went downstairs, helmet on head, weapon in hand.

Her father waited at the base of the stairs with a twinkle in his eye. “I remember this costume,” he said.

The duchess blushed.

Thea turned and saw Darien. He was a cavalier in a blue satin coat, heavily braided in gold, and full breeches with knots of ribbon at the knees. Lace frothed at his wrists and neck, and a long, curling periwig of pale blond hair along with a white half mask gave a completely different look to his features. He swept off his wide black hat and bowed deeply in the court manner.

Truly, she might not have known him.

He straightened and looked her over, eyes bright with something. “Britannia?”

Dry-mouthed, she said, “Goddess.” The brightness flared. “Armored,” she added firmly.

“So I see.”

Harriet came forward to drape a white cloak around Thea for the journey, and they went out to the coach.

“I'm not sure if a gentleman should offer to carry a goddess's weapon,” he said.

“I have no intention of surrendering it. I think I might need it.”

He laughed as he assisted her into the coach. It wasn't easy, with halberd and helmet to manage, not to mention six inches of silver owl on top.

Once she was settled in the coach, Harriet beside her, he took the opposite seat.

“Lovelace?” she guessed, studying his costume again.

“The warrior or the rake?” he asked as the coach started off.

“Perhaps both. That's an impressive costume. Where did you find it at short notice?”

“Where did you find yours?”

“In the attic.”

“Mine, too. In your attic. The duchess didn't trust me and sent this around.”

“Lord, that probably means it was last worn by my father. Or just possibly Dare. That would be suitable, as you promised to behave like a brother.”

“Not here,” he said, and she realized he referred to Harriet, who was pretending to be deaf and blind, but assuredly was neither.

But he might mean, “My promise doesn't hold for this event.”

Which did she want?

They didn't have to travel far, and as she extracted herself from the carriage, she wondered if it wouldn't have been easier to walk. Impossible, of course. Even cloaked, she created a stir as she entered the house, among both other arriving guests and the people gathered to watch.

Once inside, she went to the cloakroom to shed her cloak and have Harriet check that all was in order. She turned to the mirror there, and then wished she hadn't. The robe really was almost transparent. She was committed now, however, so she sent Harriet off to the servants' quarters, where there would doubtless be a merry gathering, and returned to the hall.

Darien was waiting, looking relaxed and so very dashing. She didn't know if his ornate, beribboned sword was sharp or not, but he looked well able to use it. As he doubtless was. She could almost wish there'd be a duel so she could see him in action.

He saw her and smiled. She returned the smile brightly and took his hand in the old style to stroll with him into one of a series of reception rooms. She knew that during this part of the evening guests were supposed to parade, showing off their costumes and admiring those of others. Everyone was also supposed to act their part, so she had, as her mother advised, memorized some wise sayings.

She found the costumes fascinating. She saw a sultan, a clown, and a number of Robin Hoods. The latter all carried bows and arrows, and she hoped they wouldn't attempt to fire them.

There were ladies in costumes of all periods, many looking very strange, as the wearers had kept to the current fashion for a high waist. One lady wore the Indian draperies called a sari and Thea wondered if it might be the Duchess of St. Raven. A number of guests merely wore dominoes—hat, mask, and concealing cloak.

“I think that very cowardly,” Thea said.

One of the men in a domino stepped in front of her and said in a gruff voice, “And which fair goddess are you?”

“That is for you to guess, sir.”

“Only when you guess who I am.”

“But you give me no clues,” she said rather disdainfully.

“Do I not?”

She saw laughing blue eyes behind the mask and said, “Cully?”

He grinned and said in his normal voice, “I have to attend a military do, so I have my uniform on, but I wanted to drop by. This is supposed to be tremendous fun. Is that really Canem with you? More or less with you, anyway,” he added.

Thea turned and saw her cavalier being distracted by a bold Nell Gwyn. She grabbed his arm and dragged him, laughing, back to her. She already felt a difference—in her, in him. In everyone around them, because no one knew who they were.

No one was casting him suspicious looks—though any number of ladies were sending interested ones. No one was whispering of old, dark scandals or recent dark reputations.

“You're anonymous here,” she said.

“Until midnight at least. You're incognito, too. How does it feel?”

She tested it. “Liberating.” Here, she realized, she could be bold as she pleased.

But no. At midnight, less than two hours away, she would be cognito again, with anything she did here stuck to her reputation. Alas.

A Roman centurion tried to steal her by right of nationality, but she parried by saying a goddess could not be commanded.

Another Nell Gwyn tried to tempt Darien with an orange, but he said his goddess commanded his escort.

A medieval lass with long plaits offered them a wild rose from a basket. Darien tried to give it to Thea, but she said it would spoil her costume and tucked it into one of his ornamental buttonholes.