Marchington Scandal (4 page)

“I kept it all locked away in my heart,” he replied, putting a hand on his chest. “Too precious for the eyes of the world.”

“Oh, Tony, take a damper. You know I hate these transports.”

The man grinned again. “Well, I do, but as you were calling me ‘Mr. Tillston' in that frigid way, I thought you deserved some punishment.” In the corner, the orchestra struck up the first set. “Come and dance,” he added.

Katharine hesitated. Though she was not in deep mourning, it had been less than a year since her father's death. But the sound of the music, and the knowledge that her father would have roared at the idea that she should refrain from dancing for his sake, finally made her nod, and Tony led her into the set forming nearby.

She enjoyed the dance. Tony remained, as she remembered him, an amusing, scatterbrained companion. And it was pleasant to move and turn in time to the music after such a long time. When the set ended, Katharine encountered several other old acquaintances, and she was soon the center of a chattering group. The novelty of her reappearance, combined with her very real charm and others' memories of her earlier success, made her an object of interest for many of the
ton
. Katharine herself was soon feeling bored, but whenever she thought of slipping away, she turned her eyes to the corner where Tom Marchington was now competing with several other gallants for the attention of the Countess Standen, and her chin came up.

The second set had ended, and the third was not begun, when a deep voice behind Katharine said, “Miss Daltry.” She turned and looked up, an unusual thing in itself, for Katharine was a tall woman. But the man who stood before her was a good six inches taller. His height alone would have made him striking, but it was combined with a dark handsomeness and a commanding air so pervasive that it nearly obscured his other attributes. His assurance was so complete that many, meeting him for the first time, wondered at it audibly.

He said nothing further, seeming to scorn the platitudes usual in such a situation. He simply held Katharine's eyes with a bland expression in his very dark blue ones.

Katharine, coolly surveying his impeccable evening dress, did not look as pleased as one would have expected a young lady addressed by an extremely attractive man to look. She bowed her head slightly and replied, “Good evening, Lord Stonenden.”

He raised one dark eyebrow. “I came to beg the honor of a dance. I see you are not engaged.” And before Katharine could reply, he had put an arm around her waist and pulled her onto the floor, where a waltz was just beginning.

His action was so abrupt that she was speechless for a moment. He guided her firmly and expertly down the ballroom as she angrily framed and discarded a number of caustic remarks. Finally she said, “You haven't changed, I see.”

Lord Stonenden laughed. “Nor have you, Miss Daltry. Your eyes still glitter when you're angry. I had nearly forgotten those amazing amber eyes. But not quite.”

“I withdraw my statement. You
have
changed. You are worse than ever.”

“Worse?”

“More insufferably arrogant and, if possible, even less careful of others' feelings.”

“Miss Daltry! You can't have forgotten that your feelings, at least, were once of the greatest concern to me.”

“Nonsense!” Katharine's reply was so emphatic that a gentleman dancing near them turned in surprise to look at her. “You never cared a straw for anyone or anything but yourself. Why did you force me to dance in this absurd way, merely to be irritating?”

Lord Stonenden's dark blue eyes flickered, but he said, “Of course, Miss Daltry. Have I not said that your eyes are extraordinary when you are angry?”

Katharine looked up at him, an equally sharp retort on her lips, but before she could speak, a picture out of memory intruded between her and the man in whose arms she circled. She saw Lady Eliza Burnham's drawing room as it had been five years ago, and herself, a thin large-eyed girl, sitting on the sofa with folded hands. This man stood before her, looking much the same, and he was saying, “You are everything I desire in a wife, Miss Daltry. Will you do me the honor of becoming Lady Stonenden?” And before she had said a word in reply, he had stepped confidently forward and taken her hand.

He had looked positively stunned when she had pulled it away again and stood up, refusing him in a few curt phrases. “What?” he said when she finished.

“I cannot accept your offer,” Katharine repeated.

“What do you mean?”

“I believe I spoke very clearly.”

“You are refusing
me
?”

She had merely nodded, very annoyed.

“But why?” Stonenden's incredulity had obviously outweighed his disappointment.

“I do not return your regard,” Katharine had begun.

“Nonsense. I can offer you every luxury. And I know myself to be far from repulsive. What is your true reason?”

Goaded by his manner, Katharine had spoken her mind perhaps too freely. “You are the most odiously arrogant man I have ever met!” she had snapped. “I have been trying for weeks to let you see that your proposal was unwelcome, and you have been impervious to the most blatant hints. You care only for yourself, and that is not the sort of husband I look for.”

His handsome face had frozen as she spoke, and when she finished, he bowed. “I beg your pardon,” he had said then, and left the room without another word, to Katharine's vast relief. As soon as she had spoken, she had been frightened at her own temerity, and at the flash her words had brought to Stonenden's eyes. She might despise his arrogance, but that did not prevent a healthy respect for his tongue. She had seen him give more than one unlucky offender a blistering set-down, for affronts much slighter than hers, and she had expected something of that sort herself.

But to her amazement, Stonenden seemed to blot out the incident entirely. She had seen him again, of course—it was inevitable that she should, in the small world of London society—and she was astonished to find that he acted just the same. He asked her to stand up with him and chatted at parties as if nothing unusual had passed between them. Indeed, he seemed, if anything, more amused by her company. To Katharine, this had appeared a further example of his utter disregard for others. She had no idea what he felt about their changed relation, but she did know that he cared nothing for her embarrassment and awkwardness. This had made the whole affair much worse. She could not have endured it for any length of time, but, soon after, she had left the country with her father, never thinking of Stonenden again until this moment.

The memory fading, Katharine looked up, again wondering what thoughts passed behind those inscrutable dark blue eyes. It was no good asking him, of course. He would not say, and he would take malicious amusement in her curiosity. It was not worth thinking about. Smiling slightly, she shook her head. “In that case, my best defense is to refuse to be angry, is it not? So, I am all compliance.” Her smile broadened with false sweetness.

“Bravo! Still an opponent worth one's steel, I see.”

But Katharine had abruptly ceased to attend and was looking over her partner's shoulder with a frown. Her expression held such unmistakable concern that he glanced quickly back to see what she was looking at. “What is it?” he asked.

“What?” answered Katharine, clearly distracted.

“Whom are you watching with such a black look? I pity the poor soul from the bottom of my heart.”

Katharine sniffed. She wished there were some grounds for pity, but she had been looking at Tom Marchington waltzing with the Countess Standen, holding her much closer than was customary or proper, and though she could easily believe that her look had been black, she was only too aware that the countess had nothing to fear from her. She continued to gaze at them, and Lord Stonenden now isolated the subject of her stare. “Are you wondering at Elise Standen's new flirt? We all are, I promise you. He is quite the country bumpkin, and not at all in her usual style.”

The condescending amusement in his voice so infuriated Katharine that she snapped, “That country bumpkin happens to be newly married to my cousin!” As soon as she said it, she could have bitten her tongue in irritation. After urging Elinor to be discreet, she herself had just exposed the whole matter to one of the most sardonic critics in the
ton
.

“Ah,” replied Lord Stonenden. “So that's it, is it?”

Katharine struggled to cover up her slip. “Yes, isn't it amusing? He is indulging in a bit of light flirtation, quite unlike him. My cousin is delighted to find he has such skill.” She looked down as she finished, her excuse sounding lame even in her own ears.

“Is she?” answered her partner dryly. “What an unusual girl she must be, to be sure.”

Katharine raised her eyes and tried to frame some light reply.

“Oh, for God's sake, don't look so stricken,” he said. “I promise not to tell anyone what you have said, if that is what you are worried about. Do you think me a gossip too?”

Katharine was too surprised to answer him, and at that moment the music ended and they were surrounded by couples moving to the edge of the floor. Lord Stonenden escorted her to a chair and was about to speak when they were joined by Lady Eliza Burnham.

“Katharine!” she said. “The very person I wanted. I must speak to you.” She took the chair next to the girl. “Go away, Stonenden,” she added, waving him off with her hand. The gentleman smiled wryly and walked away.

“How utterly insufferable he is!” exclaimed Katharine when he was out of earshot. “I truly cannot abide him. And why he asked me to dance, I shall never understand.”

Lady Eliza looked surprised. “Stonenden? Don't you like him? Why, he is the chief object of every girl in London. They have begun to call him Stoneheart, you know, because he is never caught by any of our beauties, though he flirts with them all.”

“A very good name for him,” retorted Katharine, “though ‘No Heart' might be even better.”

“But I find him quite charming. And terribly attractive, of course. He has such an air of…I don't know what to call it, really.”

“Consequence?” offered the other. “Self-satisfaction?”

“You
don't
like him, do you? I shouldn't call it either of those.” Her friend suddenly remembered something. “Didn't he dangle after you when you first came out?”

“Some thought so. I was never deceived. He was so full of himself that I don't believe he ever really
saw
me. He must have felt it was time he settled down, and he lit on me as a proper candidate for the immense honor of his hand. I have never understood why. I daresay a hundred other girls would have fallen at his feet in gratitude.”

Lady Eliza gaped at her. “You mean he
offered
for you? Oliver Stonenden? Katharine!”

Uncharacteristically, Katharine Daltry flushed crimson from forehead to neck. “I didn't mean to say so much. I was angry. Please disregard it, Eliza.”

“My dear, you know I would never repeat anything you told me. And you cannot leave me in such suspense. Did he?”

“Well…well, yes.”

“And you refused him? Stonenden! The earldom? And that immense fortune?”

This brought back Katharine's irritation. “Yes, I did. And I pity the woman who becomes his wife, in spite of all those things. He will never care a straw for anything she may think or want.”

“Well, but, Katharine…”

The girl's jaw hardened. “This can't have been what you wished to say to me.”

“No. Oh, no, but…”

“Well, I would much rather hear what that was. I am sick of the subject of Lord Stonenden.”

“But his asking you to dance this evening. He almost never dances, you know. Perhaps he still—”

“Eliza!” exclaimed the younger girl, revolted.

Seeing that she was really incensed, Lady Eliza dropped the subject. “Yes, well, it meant nothing, I daresay. I wanted to speak to you about your cousin, Katharine.”

“Elinor?”

“Yes. Or rather, her husband. He is making himself very conspicuous, Katharine. People are beginning to notice the way he hangs about Elise Standen.”

“Are they?” replied Katharine bitterly.

“Yes, and I thought I should just give you a hint.”

“Hint? Why do you think I dragged myself here tonight, Eliza, after all my efforts to remain quietly at home?”

“You had heard, then?”

“Elinor came to me for help.”

The older woman looked doubtful.

“Of course it is ridiculous,” said Katharine in response. “I do not see what I can do. But I could not refuse.”

“Perhaps his parents?”

“I am assured that that would be the worst possible solution. I am thinking of speaking to Tom myself.”

“Katharine, no! That would be extremely improper.”

“I don't care about propriety. But I doubt that he would listen to me. I would not, in his position. Who am I to lecture him?”

“Very true, dear. Young men do not like to be scolded, particularly by a female.” The two women contemplated the problem in silence for a few moments. “You know,” added Lady Eliza then, “I have just remembered that Stonenden is fairly well acquainted with Elise Standen.”

“Undoubtedly,” replied Katharine.

“Oh, not in
that
way. Though I think it was when one of his friends was… But that is by the by. He does know her, and he is just the person who might be able to help in this awkward situation. People listen to him. He would know how to handle Elise, and all the young men look up to him. Perhaps…”

“I would sooner ask the dustman for help,” snapped Katharine.

“But, my dear—”

“Eliza, please. Do not mention it again. It is out of the question. I shall think of something.”