Lord Sidley's Last Season (7 page)

“How do you … how do you feel, my lord?” she ventured.

“Exhilarated!”

Marian frowned as she turned to him. “You are jesting.”

“Not at all.” He gazed about at the softly moonlit gardens. “It is a beautiful evening, and I am in superior company” His glance settled briefly on her face before he
glanced up at the windows and balconies of the Formsby
town house. “I believe the former Lord Formsby had
a great deal of work done to this house. For some prolonged period the entire street was barred to traffic. But
that was many years ago”

“Oh, but I recall it. One could not visit without risking a dusting of plaster powder!”

“Perhaps our paths crossed, then”

“I should have remembered.”

He considered her warmly. “I was a most unpromising
youth, Miss Ware, and decidedly inattentive. No matter
how observant a youngster you might have been-and I
suspect you were very-I cannot vouch for my own
recollection. And lately,” he mused, looking once again
to the well-lit building, “I have become too selective with
my few memories.”

“Naturally, you must reflect-you must reminisce as
you-as you confront such a drastic-”

“I wish you would not refer to my state so, Miss Ware,” he interrupted. “‘Tis most unsettling. I should prefer you
to act as though you know nothing of it.”

“I … cannot”

A couple passing on the garden path a level below
them laughed aloud, in sharp contrast to their own
strained mood. Eager for a diversion, Marian reached
to touch Sidley’s cane, which he had propped against
the stonework between them. The cane’s tooled silver
handle was exquisite.

“This is lovely,” she said.

“Yet ‘tis flimsy enough,” he said, smiling once more.
“When one lacks use of a leg, one grasps at straws”

“You have not appeared to need-that is, I have seen
you walk without its support.”

“I test myself, Miss Ware. But I have yet to brave the
absence of its balance. You needn’t believe me overly
fond of an accessory”

She glanced down, lest he see that was indeed what
she had thought, and asked, “The wood is … ?”

“Malacca. Does it not sound exotic? In this cane’s
company I think of Malaya and the distant straits, a place
I should dearly love to visit. Imagine it, Miss Ware-lush
palms and mangroves by a sea of jade, breezes scented
with spices wafting from the islands of Sumatra and
Java-But perhaps you shall journey to see as much.
With your naval officer.”

“That is most unlikely, my lord. Will-Lieutenant
Reeves-has written that he is eager for home-to settle in Northampton.”

“And that shall satisfy you, then?”

Marian’s chin rose. “I love my home”

“In that you are hardly unique. But surely you have
some desire to see something of the world, to explore?
You would not be here in town if that were not the case”

“It is quite different. In my work I find exploration
enough.”

Sidley smiled slightly. “Let us hope you shall always
be lucky enough to think so” Again he turned to examine the Formsby house facade, so contemplatively that
Marian was surprised by his next question.

“How does he fare, then, your lieutenant? He returns
soon?”

“I cannot say. I have not heard from him since before
I left for town. He is in Gibraltar.”

“And mail from Gibraltar often goes astray”

“You would make him inattentive.”

“Yes”

“But he is not! He has been most conscientious.”

“A fine thing in an officer, Miss Ware. But I’ve not
seen this in the romantic literature-sonnets to the conscientious.”

“We are not that is, we have known each other
many years. William is my brother’s closest friend. In
many ways he is like another brother.”

“A husband is not a brother.” At her gasp, he said,
“Presumably he bested several others there in Northants
for your handsome slack-jawed swains hovering at
your doorstep?”

Marian straightened from the balustrade. “Is there a
reason,” she asked coldly, “you believe any beaux of
mine must be `slack-jawed,’ my lord?”

“Why, naturally they would be in awe of both your
beauty and your talent.”

“You know nothing of my talent.”

“I deduce it, Miss Ware. It must rival your beauty,
which is considerable.” He bowed.

“You needn’t flatter me, my lord. There is no one to
hear.”

“The only one who matters is here”

She thought he leaned closer to her. “It is wrong for
you to speak to me so. You must respect my-respect
Lieutenant Reeves”

Sidley shrugged. “We have discussed him. I acknowledge his claim. But the man is not present,” he said
softly, “and that is his misfortune.”

Marian could look straight up into his eyes. The
bright moonlight robbed them of color but not of depth
or darkness. She wondered at herself, to be considering
him so minutely, as though he were a subject she intended to paint. But her consciousness was of something else entirely-that of warmth, and closeness, and
a much too attractive temptation.

She swallowed and forced herself to break the gaze.
She looked to his nose and cheeks-and frowned. He
had to be wearing powder, for the moonlight to reflect
so little upon his skin.

“Do not peer at me so, Miss Ware. I am too shy for it.”

“Shy! Your reputation is otherwise.”

“Perhaps I do not deserve my reputation.” He smiled
and turned his head to listen to a lone flutist playing
within the ballroom. “Orpheus is practicing. ‘Tis a pleasant tune. I think we might practice as well. Come, Miss
Ware, you must help me exercise. Try some simple steps
with me. I saw Colonel Bassett dancing as I came in.
Even in my decrepit condition I ought to execute a turn
as well as old Bassett”

He moved away from the stone rail and extended a
gloved hand to her. The flutist’s tune, from an old, simple minuet, carried sweetly through the open doors.

“People will see,” Marian said, even as she compliantly extended a hand.

“We do not care,” he countered. For a moment his
smile broadened. “You have such a short time here, Miss
Ware. Will you not enjoy it?” His coaxing tone robbed
her of any objection, though she did wonder whether he
referred to her stay in London or on Earth.

For a minute they stepped slowly and carefully to the
melody. When the instrument stopped, they stopped as
well, and Marian held her breath as Sidley merely stood
and smiled at her. In that brief pause she was conscious
of a small audience, but, just as Sidley had claimed, she
did not care. As she held his gaze she knew her heart
kept pace with the vanished tune. When the flutist resumed, the music did not continue but began again, and
Sidley dutifully positioned himself to lead her through a
repeat of the initial steps. But beyond those first moves, as the music advanced to a more intricate passage, he
tried to pivot on his bad leg at a turn, and stumbled.

“Curses …” he muttered, gritting his teeth in obvious pain.

“You have done very well.”

His bright gaze was sharp. “You speak to me as though
I were twelve.”

“I speak to you,” she said evenly, “as though you have
been injured-and are recovering.”

Something in his gaze then, something more than his
customary consideration, held her very still. Marian
was scarcely aware of the few people near them.

“I wish,” she continued impulsively, “I wish you were
not ill. I wish-”

“You mustn’t wish for too much, Miss Ware,” he said
simply. “I tend to be superstitious.”

But he was looking at her so openly that Marian could
only be impatient with the suddenly distracting eruption
of noise from the ballroom. And then Lord Benjamin
stood highlighted against the brilliantly lantern-lit doorway.

“Sidley!” he urged. “Do come. It’s Vaughn!”

“Clarses,” Sidley muttered again, brushing past Benjamin. Inside all was heat, light, chatter, and companyeverything, in fact, that Sidley had gratefully escaped
out-of-doors. Miss Ware would have deserted him….
Yet as he glanced back over his shoulder, he spotted her
several steps behind him. She was holding his cane,
which she had thoughtfully retrieved. He paused long
enough to allow her to draw even with him, and he gave
her the briefest of smiles as she proffered the cane.
Though he did not need it for walking, he thought it
might serve admirably to brain Vaughn.

“Where is he?” he hissed to Benny, even as their urgency forced the ballroom crowd to give way to them.

Benny nodded toward the hall. “I’d just finished
speakin’ with Formsby,” Benny relayed in a low voice, “when I noticed Knox talking to Vaughn outside the
supper room. Both of ‘em looked steamed, though in
different ways, of course, since Vaughn never looks
much of anythin’. But then Vaughn made for the hall. I
could tell he meant to leave, Sidley, not to cause a
scene. Only Knox had to rush after ‘im, and I came for
you-”

“Well judged, Benny,” Sidley murmured just as he
entered the hall to confront a red-faced Griffin Knox
blocking the door to the Viscount Vaughn.

“I say you shall not leave here without such a promise!” Knox fumed.

“You need no promise, Knox,” Vaughn said tightly.
“You imagine-”

“Ah! There you are, Vaughn! Good fellow!” Sidley
called, forcing an obliviously cheerful smile. “I know
we were to depart ten minutes ago-”

“You should never have come at all,” Knox snapped.
“And now you’d best stay out of this, Sidley.”

Sidley’s grin lost a bit of its expansiveness. “The last
person to order me so, Mr. Knox,” he said pleasantly,
“was a general.”

“And what did he say?” Knox sneered. “Polish my
boots?”

Sidley leaned heavily on his cane to keep himself from
swinging it. “I may misremember,” he said easily. “It has
been some time, after all. But I believe we were before
Orthez, and he wished me to trounce Marshal Soult.”

He spoke carelessly, but in that happy company the comment shocked. And all recognized the battle, just
months before, in which Wellington himself had been
injured.

In the subsequent silence, Knox’s sneer fled. “This is
not your affair,” he bit out.

“Nor is it Lord Vaughn’s.”

“It should not be-but he must busy himself where
he is not wanted.”

Sidley thrust his cane across Vaughn’s boots to prevent him from surging toward Knox. Sidley was conscious of the gathering audience and most conscious,
perhaps, of Marian Ware several steps beyond his right
shoulder. That he should be so alive to her presence was
most peculiar.

“This is not the place to air your dispute,” Sidley said
to Knox. “Lady Katherine and her family can only thank
us if we remove ourselves. Will you not step outside an
instant, Mr. Knox?”

“I will not leave my wife!”

Sidley’s gaze noted Jenny Knox, attended by several
friends, at the entrance to the ballroom. “Mrs. Knox is
in good company.”

“I make certain of it!” Knox spat. “Which is why I’ll
have that promise from your friend!” He looked at
Vaughn, whose lips were tight-as though he meant never
to speak again.

Sidley glanced again at Jenny Knox, whose dark eyes
were huge in her pale face. Her ghastly pallor gave him
an idea.

“Come now, Vaughn,” he coaxed in as pompously
wheedling a tone as he could manage. He patted
Vaughn’s sleeve condescendingly. “Surely you can promise the man, fool though he is, anything he likes?”

Vaughn actually frowned. “Leave off, Sidley,” he
said sharply.

“Good heavens! That from you, when I’ve-exerted
myself so-” Abruptly he loosed his grip on Vaughn’s
sleeve and, collapsing as heavily as he could against his
friend, slid in an apparent faint toward the floor.

Vaughn was quick enough to grab his arms, sparing
him a blow to the head. Sidley kept his eyes closed and
heard all the hubbub around him: Benny’s gleefully
repeated “Get back!”; Edgar Formsby’s “What has
happened?”; and, most clearly, young Lady Katherine’s
penetrating shriek of “Sidley!”, at which he could
scarcely prevent himself from cringing.

Sidley heard Vaughn ordering the carriage to be
called, then several people were carrying him, unevenly
and most uncomfortably, to the door. He heard Colonel
Bassett’s blistering description of Lord Sidley as a “useless bit of goods,” with a dismissive, “Marshal Soult?
Most unlikely!” added for good measure.

Even in the darkness out-of-doors he kept his eyes
closed, knowing that Edgar Formsby, if not volunteering
so much as to help carry him, was enough of a host to see
an ill guest from the door. Sidley was doubly glad of his
discipline when he heard Marian Ware softly recommending that someone loosen Lord Sidley’s collar, and Vaughn’s answering assurance, “We shall see to him,
Miss Ware”

Oh, no doubt, no doubt, Sidley thought. The arms that
shoved him unceremoniously onto the carriage seat were
certainly far from gentle.

“I shall kill you for this,” Vaughn muttered darkly as
the horses started.