My Wayward Lady (6 page)
As she listened to them, Harriet's wish to teach Mrs. Lovington's ladies soon expanded mightily into a burning interest in them and their lives. One by one she listened to their tales—all sadly similar—of seduction and betrayal. Over the course of a few lessons she came to know each one of the girls, her hopes and her dreams, and each time Harriet left 51
My Wayward Lady
by Evelyn Richardson
the Temple of Venus she did so with renewed resolve to help each one gain her wish.
It was only by exercising the greatest restraint on her part that Harriet did not call at Mrs. Lovington's every day, armed with her educational materials, but she knew that such frequent disappearances from the Fareham residence in Berkeley Square would arouse the suspicions of her family. Furthermore, as Rose carefully pointed out, the girls did have work, other than their lessons, that commanded their attention. So she was forced to confine herself to fewer visits than she would have liked in order to insure that she could continue her work undetected and undisturbed. Now, with the unforeseen appearance of the insolent gentleman who had caused her such aggravation, even these few precious hours a week with
Mrs. Lovington's ladies,
as they called themselves, were threatened.
Harriet had comforted herself with the thought that perhaps the unknown gentleman was not a regular visitor and therefore would not reappear to annoy her further. A few discreet questions posed to her pupils at their next session confirmed this. None of them had ever seen the man before the morning he had erupted into their schoolroom.
"And we would certainly not forget a top-of-the-trees gentleman like him," Violet, one of her most promising students, had responded slyly. "Would you like us to discover more about him?"
Harriet's brusque, "No. I have not the least interest in such a vulgar person," fooled no one. However, beyond exchanging knowing glances with each other, the girls pretended it had. 52
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What the girls refrained from mentioning to Harriet was that the gentleman they now knew as Lord Chalfont, though he had been unknown to them before his appearance in the schoolroom, had become a frequent caller after his encounter with Harriet. He had been only a little less circumspect in his inquiries as to the identity of the enchanting instructress than she had been.
After Lord Chalfont's initial reappearance Bessie had assembled the girls and lectured them thoroughly. "Now we will not tell Miss Harriet of this lest we cause her alarm. She does not need to know that Lord Chalfont has been asking after her." Bessie's tone was decidedly fierce as she had laid down the law to her fellow students.
"Yes, but what if he is courting her?" Violet had piped up.
"He is such a handsome gentleman and a lord besides. What is the harm in throwing them together?" Violet had done a little investigating on her own and Lord Chalfont's title, his ancestry, his income, and his properties were known to one and all.
"Miss Harriet is a lady who has a most superior mind and she does not intend to waste it on such foolishness," Bessie had pronounced loftily. "She is dedicating herself to higher things than hunting for a husband and you would do well to remember that. Violet."
"Very well." Violet had agreed meekly enough, but she had not entirely given up. She had seen the way the sparks had flown between Lord Chalfont and Miss Harriet during their first encounter and she knew enough to recognize two people who were drawn to each other, even if it seemed to be in mutual 53
My Wayward Lady
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dislike. If Miss Harriet had not been so very pretty and so ready to challenge his presence, Lord Chalfont would never have teased her the way he had. And if Lord Chalfont had not been so very dashing he would never have been able to provoke her in the first place. Miss Harriet simply would have ordered him out of the room or rung for Jamison to show him the door, but she had not.
Violet chuckled to herself. Oh yes, there was something between the two of them all right; it just wanted a little encouragement, and she, for one, was going to give it any encouragement she could. For all that her mind was on higher things. Miss Harriet was too attractive and too lively a person not to have a handsome man like Lord Chalfont looking after her.
Though Lord Chalfont had become a frequent caller at the Temple of Venus, he missed Harriet's next visit. It was by sheer bad luck that the auction of the Duke of Morley's beautifully matched grays required his presence at Tattersall's the next time that Harriet was due to appear at Mrs. Lovington's, and thus she was allowed to hope that his presence the first time had been an unfortunate accident and nothing more.
In fact, Harriet had almost succeeded in putting the disturbing gentleman completely out of her mind when he appeared the week after that looking far more alert than he had been at their first meeting.
His unusual amber eyes were more focused and there was none of the redness that indicated a night of carousing, but the same sleepy smile lurked in their depths as, calmly taking 54
My Wayward Lady
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his place at the back of the class, he held up a package. "I have brought my own book this time." Without further comment he proceeded to unwrap his parcel and, to Harriet's considerable astonishment, pulled out the very reader she had been using.
She could have sworn he had been too castaway at their first encounter even to remember her presence at all. Quite obviously she had misjudged the man. He was more determined than she would have given him credit for, but what was he determined upon? That was the question. Harriet was not about to give him the satisfaction of letting him see her surprise. "Very well." She acknowledged his presence with the briefest of nods. "Then you, sir, may begin where we left off."
She was testing him, the little witch. Well, she would see that the Marquess of Kidderham was no empty-headed Bond Street beau. Adrian grinned and opened to the page on which they had concluded the lesson he had last attended and began to read.
The wretch! He remembered exactly where they had left off at his last visit and he was taunting her with it. She was not going to let him get the better of her. No one got me better of Lady Harriet Fareham, especially not some worthless tulip of the
ton.
Fuming silently Harriet allowed him to continue for a few minutes before interrupting. "Thank you. Now I believe it is Fanny's turn." She directed a significant look at Fanny, hoping me girl would be clever enough to follow the gentleman's lead without letting on that the class 55
My Wayward Lady
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had met since he had last been there. She had no intention of letting him learn when and how often they met. Adrian eyed the teacher speculatively. Little as he was accustomed to dealing with those of the Quaker faith, he did know that they addressed each other as
thee
and
thou,
something which this attractive young woman definitely did not do. He also believed Quakers to be rather modest, humble folk. There was nothing the least bit humble in the haughty air the pretty instructress adopted toward her newest pupil. Her short, slender frame was stiff with outrage and she made no attempt to disguise the hostility in her tone. Adrian grinned. She was a taking little thing with huge dark blue eyes, a slight dusting of freckles across her pert little nose, a determined set to her delicately sculpted mouth, and a riot of red curls framing her face—pretty rather than beautiful—but she was definitely no Quaker, of that he was now quite certain. If she was not a Quaker, then who was she? She was obviously someone who did not want to be discovered at Mrs. Lovington's, of that one thing he was sure. Adrian leaned back in his chair examining her in a more leisurely manner. Her graceful movements and cultured accents as well as her proud carriage proclaimed her a lady, and a lady accustomed to commanding the respect of those around her. Oh, she was gentle and encouraging enough as Fanny stumbled over a word and he could see from the way her students responded that her kindness and interest in them had won their trust. But the flash in her eyes whenever they fell on him and the resolute lift to her chin left him in no doubt as to the strength of her character. She was not 56
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someone who allowed herself to be influenced by others, and he, Adrian, was most decidedly affecting her, he noted with satisfaction.
Well versed in the ways of women. Lord Chalfont could see that she was seething under the rigid calm she was so desperate to maintain. Her cheeks were delicately flushed, and the rise and fall of her bosom under the demure muslin kerchief that covered it betrayed her agitation. Lord Chalfont smiled broadly and chuckled to himself. He hadn't had such fun since he had sold out and returned to England. Unbidden, the image of his betrothed rose before him and he thought of the contrast she afforded to this young woman. Forever cool and calm, the Honorable Alicia De Villiers never allowed herself to become the least bit discomposed. In fact, now that he stopped to consider it, Adrian realized that she never reacted to anything, certainly not to him. He hastily banished all thoughts of his prospective wife as he concentrated on the expressive face of the young lady in front of him. He liked the fire in her eyes and the passionate undertones in her voice. Yes, he definitely liked all of her, even the mystery surrounding her—a mystery that he intended to solve or his name was not Adrian Julius Augustus Chalfont, seventh Marquess of Kidderham.
There was no denying it. The intruder assuredly had an effect on her, Harriet grimly admitted to herself as she struggled to regain control of her breathing. She could not understand it in the least. After all, she had grown up the constant recipient of her brother Charlie's teasing, and this gentleman, lounging back in his chair, arms folded across his 57
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broad chest, was no more provoking than Charlie ever had been, at his most irritating. Long ago she had mastered the trick of ignoring even Charlie's most exasperating behavior, but she was not having any noticeable success where this man was concerned. All her standard tactics were of no avail. Harriet was still uncomfortably conscious of those tawny eyes fixed so steadily on her, the unnerving smile that hovered around the mobile mouth, the lines of amusement etched in the deeply tanned face. Oh, he had an effect on her all right. Furthermore, he was well aware of it and, what was worse, he was thoroughly enjoying it.
With a supreme effort, she forced her mind to attend to the matters at hand. "That was excellent. Fanny. Just be sure to pronounce each word slowly and distinctly. You have a tendency to speak hastily and all the sounds become jumbled together. The more carefully you speak, the more people are likely to listen to you."
Harriet could not help glancing in the direction of a hastily muffled cough from the back of the room. It was a mistake. One dark brow shot up and the gentleman grinned in a way that very nearly overset her. She tossed her head and continued. "Now Violet, do carry on." Somehow, though she was not quite sure how, Harriet managed to get to the end of the lesson for the day without further incident. After the cough, the gentleman remained quiet, offering no further provocation beyond his intense scrutiny of her as she listened to the others performing their readings.
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At last every girl in the room had recited and Harriet was free to go. Hastily she donned her bonnet and pelisse and hurried toward the door, but it was too late. The intruder reached it before she did and effectively blocked her escape as, leaning one broad shoulder against the doorway, he offered to conduct her to her carriage.
"That will not be necessary," Harriet snapped, thoroughly exasperated. She wished for nothing more than to leave her tormentor behind, but there was no way of getting past him without indulging in an unladylike shoving match which she was not about to do.
Taking pity on her, for after all he had done his best to provoke her, Adrian at last relented. Stepping aside to let her pass, he murmured apologetically, "I do beg your pardon. I am behaving badly when what I really wish to do is to convey my deepest admiration to someone who has the courage to involve herself in the lives of those less fortunate than she, to sympathize with them and to help them." That stopped Harriet more effectively than blocking the doorway had. Her eyes opened wide as she gazed up at him in astonishment. For once the mocking smile was gone. Not a trace of guile showed in the handsome face. The amber eyes were warm with appreciation, and the tone of voice was sincere rather than teasing. Her anger evaporated and she was left with nothing to say. "Why—why, thank you," she stammered, mesmerized by the expression in those amazing eyes.
Then, realizing that she was gawking up at him like a perfect ninny, she blushed furiously, ducked her head, and 59
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hurried out to the waiting carriage. What was wrong with her she wondered as Rose closed the door behind them and she leaned back against the cushions. Ordinarily she was never flustered. She had managed to ignore the rude heckling of the stranger in her classroom, yet when he had spoken kindly to her she had fallen to pieces.
You are turning into a
ninnyhammer allowing someone to overset you like that,
Harriet,
she scolded herself. Shaking her head at her own weakness, she resolved not to let such a thing happen to her again.
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Meanwhile, the disconcerting stranger was subject to his own unsettling reflections. The blush had thrown him as it transformed the feisty little Quakeress from a tigress into an adorable young woman. Those eyes, so dark a blue that one could drown in them, had stopped him dead in his tracks. Their overriding expression had been one of surprise, but underneath that was intelligence and curiosity. Truly the force of her character was reflected in their sapphire depths. Adrian had encountered many people in the course of his varied and colorful existence and he had gazed into the eyes of countless women, but he could not recall ever before having felt that he was seeing so much of the person behind them. In fact, he was so struck by the thought that for some moments he completely forgot his intention to follow her and discover more about her.
