Midnight Bride (28 page)

Elizabeth
cannot refuse to see you." Charles smiled mischievously. "And Mama will ask us to luncheon."

When they entered Lady
Ramsburg's
drawing room a few minutes later, both of them were surprised at the crowded room. At one end of the room was a settee where Elizabeth and Louisa sat, surrounded by a bevy of men in uniform. At the other end Lady
Ramsburg
visited with friends. Waving off the butler, who would have announced them, Charles walked toward his mother, bent and kissed her cheek. "Charles, dear one, when did you arrive?" she asked, her face lighting as it usually did when she saw her son.

"Last evening.
Mama, may I present Robert Clarendon, the Viscount Dunstan. He came to Brighton with me." Dunstan bowed.

For a moment Lady
Ramsburg's
face seemed almost a mask, her eyes widened until they were almost too large for her face. She inspected him carefully, wondering if his presence meant the beginning of more problems. Then she nodded pleasantly, deciding to reserve judgment until later. She glanced at Charles, her look thoughtful. "I am surprised to see you again, Lord Dunstan," she said quietly, continuing her inspection. He maintained his poise with effort, realizing that Elizabeth must have told her everything. He fully expected to be asked to leave, but what she saw reassured her. She smiled, one of those breathtaking smiles that had made her so popular both in her Season and as a widow. Dunstan stood talking to her quietly for a few minutes, his eyes wandering from her face to the group across the room only occasionally. Noting the direction of his gaze, Lady
Ramsburg
finally said, "Would you like to renew your acquaintance with my daughter, Lord Dunstan?"

This time it was his face that changed. He smiled, his dark blue eyes sparkling. "Yes," he said quietly.

"Charles, take this young man across to your sister. Then you come back so that I can talk to you," Lady
Ramsburg
said. Charles understood exactly what she meant and nodded, hoping that she would agree with his plan.

When they crossed the room, Elizabeth was still unaware of their presence, but Louisa had noticed. She did not tell her cousin what she saw, preferring to wait and observe Elizabeth's reactions. Elizabeth was laughing at the antics of the officers. To her surprise, she felt comfortable around them, not even worrying when she occasionally forgot a name. The officers seemed to take the situation lightly, laughing with her, rather than showing any annoyance. Had she realized the amount of money that was won or lost when she remembered or forgot a name, Elizabeth would have been horrified. Lord Hathaway had instigated the bet. Noting the arrival of two more people, he signaled the others unobtrusively. Quickly and quietly the wagers were made by prearranged signals.

The officers stood back, allowing the gentlemen to approach Elizabeth one by one. "Charles," she said delighted, "does Mama know you have arrived?" He bent and kissed her cheek and then Louisa's.

"She welcomed me with open arms," he assured his sister. The officers who had bet against Elizabeth's recognition of him shrugged. Then Charles stepped aside. "I brought a friend with me, Elizabeth."

Lord Dunstan walked up to her from where he had been standing behind two officers. "Miss
Beckworth
," he said, his eyes fixed on her face. He kissed her hand, his lips lingering for a moment.

From the first moment she saw him, Elizabeth felt her heart race. She blushed slightly, but her eyes never left his. When his lips touched her hand, a fire began racing through her. "Lord Dunstan," she
said,
her voice even lower, more husky than usual. Almost as if he were drawing it from her, she
smiled,
her face and eyes reflecting her delight at seeing him again.
Their fingers lingered in each other's
a moment more.

Louisa,
determined that Dunstan should have another chance, rose. "Charles, I am certain your mother has hundreds of questions to ask you. And rather than answering them twice, you can tell us both at the same time. Why don't you, Lord Dunstan, take my place? I am certain my niece wishes to talk with you." She walked away, leaving confusion behind her.

Quickly Dunstan took his place beside Elizabeth. The clock chimed the hour. Startled, everyone looked up. Realizing that their visit had extended beyond the polite limits, the officers made their farewells. "I must protest, Miss
Beckworth
," Lord Hathaway said as he made his farewell.

"Why?" she asked, her eyes twinkling as she waited for his answer. The tall redhead, though careful to make certain she knew he was not in love with her, enjoyed knowing that he had her attention.

"You are not proceeding in a fair manner." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows but did not answer. "You did not forget Lord Dunstan's name." The other officers, their faces solemn though their eyes were laughing, nodded.

"But I have known Miss
Beckworth
for several years," Dunstan said, not certain he liked all the attention they were giving the lady he planned to marry.

"Then I suppose you must be forgiven, Miss
Beckworth
," the captain said, his face breaking into smiles. The others agreed. Then they made their bows to the ladies. "Until this evening," they promised.

"Until tonight," Lady
Ramsburg
said, noting the disgruntled look on Dunstan's face. As soon as the officers had gone, she turned to the other two gentlemen. "We will have to tell you farewell, gentlemen," she said kindly. "We are expected for
luncheon
elsewhere." This time even Charles looked disturbed. She patted his hand consolingly. "You may escort us along the
Steine
this evening and stay for supper afterward."

Before Dunstan and Charles could do more than utter a few words of farewell, they were outside, their hats in their hands. They looked at each other and then laughed ruefully. They walked slowly down the street. "Should have told the carriage to wait," Dunstan said, searching the street for a hackney. Reaching the corner, they stopped for a moment, their eyes on the passengers alighting just down the street.

"Can I interest you in a bird and a bottle, your lordship?" Charles asked as he held open the door of the hackney. Dunstan laughingly agreed. For the rest of the afternoon they walked about Brighton, inspecting lodgings for their stay. One night at the inn had convinced them they needed something more permanent. Finally they discovered comfortable rooms with adequate stabling for both the carriage and their horses. Paying their shot at the inn, they were installed there without delay, leaving Graves and Porter to arrange for a cook and someone to clean.

While her brother and Dunstan were finding a place to stay, Elizabeth attended the luncheon with her cousin and stepmother. Although she tried to keep her mind on the conversations at the table, she kept feeling Dunstan's lips on her hand, seeing his thick brown hair and blue eyes, so deep and mysterious. More than once she had to apologize for her inattention. Both Louisa and Lady
Ramsburg
noticed. As drawn as she felt to him, she still was not certain she was ready to trust her future to any man.

Arriving home, the ladies retired to their rooms to rest until teatime. Elizabeth, her mind in a whirl, lay down. The soft crisp sheets beneath her reminded her of a morning several weeks earlier. Too disturbed and confused to sleep, she lay there for a time, remembering every word Dunstan had said to her that morning as well as the morning weeks later. His eyes had followed hers, making her heart race as it was racing now. Her breath came faster when she remembered the feel of his lips on her hand. What would it be like to feel those lips on hers?

Elizabeth slid from the bed, too restless to stay there any longer. Why did he make her feel this way? She remembered his letters, the way he had told her what he had been doing,
his
proposals. Even when she had been engaged to Jack, her feelings had not been so strong. The thought of Jack brought her pacing back and forth to a halt. Her
fiancé
had told her he loved her, yet he had betrayed her. Would Dunstan behave differently? The question made her sink to the chaise, her face in her hands.

Finally she sat up again, her back straight. Her decision never to marry had been correct, she told herself, ignoring the fever in her blood whenever she thought of Dunstan. She would enjoy her stay in Brighton, enjoy the company of the gentlemen who seemed to find her amusing, and worry about going home to the manor later. Firmly she put away any thought that the scandal would be discovered in Brighton, refusing even to consider the possibility. Putting Dunstan out of her mind was impossible.

When Miller arrived a short time later, the gown she had been pressing thrown over her arm, she discovered her mistress seated in front of her mirror, pulling on her curls. "Why did I ever let Amelia persuade me to cut my hair? Miller, is there anything you can do to make it longer?" The latest
la belle
assemblie
lay open in front of her. She stared at herself in the mirror and then turned to read about the latest, longer hair styles. "He must have thought I looked a quiz," Elizabeth said in despair.

Miller carefully laid the dress out where it would not become wrinkled and crossed to her mistress. "You always look lovely, Miss
Beckworth
," she assured Elizabeth. Then she walked around her, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Which style did you prefer?"

"Oh, I do not know. They all look as though the hair must be much longer." Elizabeth pulled out one curl and let it bounce back.

"We could try this one," Miller told her, pointing to a style that allowed curls around the face, but pulled the rest of the hair high on the top of the head. She put her curling stick near the fire to heat.

"Hmmm.
It is different." Elizabeth looked back in the mirror. She pulled her hair up and looked at each side. "Yes, let us try that.'

By the time her hair was arranged to her satisfaction, it was time to dress for their promenade. Miller pulled the petticoat over Elizabeth's curls, careful not to disarrange any. She looped the bows, tying them into knots. Then, glancing at the deeply cut neckline of the dress, she selected a different chemise, one that had a tie around the top to hold it in place as well as the ties to separate and lift her mistress's breasts. That garment in place, she lifted the thin golden muslin undergarment over Elizabeth's head. A few moments later the white muslin gown with sprigs of gold and green followed. Tying the last bow, Miller stood back to get a view of her mistress. Her curls, except for the few at her neckline and around her face, were caught up with golden ribbons, leaving her long, slender neck bare and elegant.

Elizabeth too looked at herself in the mirror. She eyed the long expanse of neck and shoulders with hesitation. "Get me a cashmere shawl," she said, not certain she liked the look she saw. Miller handed her the one that echoed the colors of her dress, draping it artistically about her. This time when Elizabeth looked in the mirror, she smiled. "Thank you, Miller," she said quietly. The maid flushed and smiled.

Like Elizabeth, Lady
Ramsburg
and Louisa had not rested much that afternoon. After they had rested for a time with carefully prepared masques of strawberries and cucumber on their faces, they met in Lady
Ramsburg's
room for a talk. "Is he here to offer for Elizabeth again?" Lady
Ramsburg
asked
,
her blue eyes faintly shadowed with worry.