Never Miss a Chance (13 page)

“We’ve missed you so,” said Jane as she gave her
sister-in-law a hug.  “Vi has been ever so excited to see you – as have we
all.  She’s been able to talk of little else other than coming to see her Aunt
and Uncles.  But Vi, now that you’ve seen Lizzie, I think it’s time for bed.”

“But I want to show her my drawings and tell her about Merry
Man and we have to play,” said Vi, stifling a yawn.

“You can do all of that tomorrow, sweetling.”

“But Mama, I missed Lizzie.”

“What about if you get some sleep now, then we can all go to
Gunter’s tomorrow,” said Ned as he gently pulled one of her braids. 

Lizzie considered the marked difference in Ned’s life since
he’d found his family.  Gone was the restlessness that even the Foreign Office
had been unable to quell.  In its place was a contentment and love for his wife
and child that brought Lizzie to the verge of tears.  If only her marriage had
a chance to be that happy.

“Oh Papa, I would love to go for an ice, as long as Aunt
Lizzie and Uncle Liam and Uncle Arthur and Uncle Hal come too!” said Vi, this
time not even trying to hide her yawn.  “Will you come up and kiss me
good-night?”

“I’ve never missed a kiss yet, have I?” Ned replied.  “Miss
Hill will take you to the nursery.  Your mama and I will be up directly.”

Lizzie gave one more squeeze to Vi, then let the governess
take her up to the nursery.   Jane and Ned looked on, their arms around each
other. 

As soon as Vi was out of earshot, Ned turned back to Lizzie.

“We came as soon as we could get away.”

“I’m afraid I was the delay,” said Jane.  “One of our
tenants was due to deliver and she’d had a very difficult pregnancy.  I didn’t
feel I could leave her.”  Jane served as the primary midwife and de facto
surgeon in their village of Marston Vale.                 

“Now how can we help?” asked Ned.

“You might start,” said Lynwood, who’d just joined them in
the foyer, “by telling our sister how unwise it is to go out unaccompanied at
night.”

Lizzie should’ve known she wasn’t going to get away with it.

“What the devil are you talking about, Liam?  Lizzie, you
wouldn’t go out alone, would you?” asked Ned, using his best military tone.

“Arthur and Hal stay out all the night and it’s perfectly
acceptable for them.  Why shouldn’t I be granted an hour or two of freedom?”

“An hour or two…what are you…?” Ned, usually the calm
brother, couldn’t quite get the sentence out.  “Liam, why are you letting the
girl go anywhere?  Obviously, she should be under lock and key.”

“Dearest, this isn’t helping,” said Jane to her husband as
she put her arm around Lizzie’s waist.  “No one likes to feel under siege.”

“Just as no one likes to fear for his sister’s safety, as I
did tonight,” said Lynwood.

“I’m sorry,” said Lizzie with genuine contrition, even if it
was laced with some irritation.  “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Lynwood not notice a missing family member?” asked Ned,
with a glint of mischief in his eyes.  “He probably knows what I’m doing at any
moment of the day and I don’t even live here.”

“I did worry,” said Lynwood to Lizzie, “until our coachman
told me where you were.”

“He told?  You knew?”  Lizzie wasn’t sure which was worse. 
Being betrayed by the servant or the fact that Lynwood knew she’d been with
Marcus.  On further contemplation, she knew which was worse.  Much worse.

“It put my mind at ease about your safety.  I knew Riverton
would never let any harm come to you.  But it did raise other concerns, almost
as troubling.”

Lizzie forced a yawn.  “I’d like to kiss Vi good-night
before she falls asleep.”

“Why were you with Riverton?” asked Ned, having missed out
on some family developments.

“A question I’ll ask him first thing on the morrow,” said
Lynwood.

That wasn’t a conversation Lizzie wanted to take place. 
While she knew he would never actually challenge Riverton to a duel, she had no
doubt any – or all – of her brothers were perfectly capable of getting into a
brawl with him.  She had to do something to prevent it, so she might as well
tell her news.  “I told him yes.  I’m going to marry him.”

“You’re marrying Riverton?” asked Ned, incredulously.  “I
didn’t even know he was courting you.”

“Congratulations!” said Jane, as she hugged Lizzie.  “I’m
sure you’ll be very happy together.”

“Yes,” said Lynwood with a thoughtful look. 
“Congratulations.  I must remember to congratulate Riverton tomorrow, right
after I plant him a facer for meeting with you in secret at night in his home.”

Damn.  Lizzie could only hope Marcus knew how to protect his
face.  She was beginning to grow quite fond of it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lady Charlotte Redmond rarely rose before noon.  It wasn’t
unusual for her to remain in her bed at Riverton House until two of the
o’clock.  On one or more occasions, she’d been known to sleep until three.  But
that was followed by such a rush to get ready for the afternoon drive in the
park that it was too stressful for the constitution she told everyone was frail
but could likely withstand a cannon blast.

It was, however, almost impossible to sleep with such
banging on her bed chamber door.   She was mentally preparing the speech that
would discharge on the spot – with no character – the lackwit servant who was
waking her up, when the door burst open and her sister Edith charged in.

“Get out!” hissed Charlotte.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” said Edith, looking even more
frightful than usual.  “I’m hardly the help.”

“I don’t care if you’re the King.  No one disturbs me from
my rest.  I value my beauty sleep.  Something you wouldn’t understand.”

A direct hit, if the look on Edith’s rather plain face was
any indication.

“Don’t waste your ire on me.  You’re going to want to hear
this.”

“I’m sure whatever you have to say can wait,” said Charlotte
as she turned in such a way to block out the sun peeking past the curtains.

“Shut it, Charlotte,” said Edith as she plopped down on the
foot of the bed.  “Our brother has got himself betrothed to Elizabeth Kellington.”

Charlotte sat up remarkably quickly for someone just
awakening.

“That means I’ll see Lynwood on a daily basis.  We’ll be
family.  Marcus can put in a good word and I’ll be a duchess.”

Edith watched her beautiful, vain, dullard of a sister for
exactly half a minute before picking up the latest copy of La Belle Assemble
from the floor and hurling it at her head.

“Since when has Marcus ever put in a good word for either of
us where Lynwood’s concerned?”

“Well, he wouldn’t put one in for you, would he?” sniffed
her sister.  “Lynwood’s tastes are a bit too refined.  No doubt his duchess
will be younger and more, shall we say, comely than you.”

“Tell me, Charlotte, when was the last time you saw Lynwood
court a lady who set a servant on fire?  You do recall he was here for that
incident, correct?  After all, he is the one who extinguished the man.”

“I didn’t set the man on fire on purpose.  I just shoved him
and he was oafish enough to fall into the candelabra.  He wasn’t even burned. 
And with the settlement Marcus gave him, he was able to retire to the country. 
Servants should beg me to shove them if that’s the reward they get.”

“You’re missing the point.  If Marcus marries that creature,
he’s likely to move back to Riverton House.”

Charlotte picked up one of the mirrors on her bedside table
to confirm she was, as Sir Lucas Winchester had so winningly said, prettier
each day than the last.  “It shall be easier to ask for advances in pin money.”

“And how often do you think that request will be granted
with Elizabeth here?  She hates us.  Do you really think she’ll let Mama and us
remain in this house?  We’ll have to move into that town house he lives in
now.  Or, worse yet, back to the country.”

 Charlotte almost dropped the mirror.  “He wouldn’t dare!”

“He would.  We have to stop this engagement before it goes
any further.  We’ll get him to marry Lady Isabelle.  She’d never have the will
to stand up to us.”

“True.  She is the dreariest milksop, even if that mother of
hers is enough to make one go screaming into the night.  But how ever do you
think we can influence Riverton?  He never listens to us or takes our counsel.”

“We must find a way to force his match with Lady Isabelle. 
Our very comfort depends on it.”

Charlotte knew the best incentive for Edith to do anything
was one that served her comfort and self-interest.  If there were a way to
marry off their brother to Lady Isabelle, Edith would find it.  She was a
sneaky one, that Edith.  With a face that would frighten pit bulls.

“Well, off you go,” said Charlotte.  “I need to rest before
I begin my day.  But if there’s anything I can do to help, pray tell me during
the evening hour.”

Edith left Charlotte’s bed chamber with renewed commitment
to her mission, then mentioned to a maid that her sister had requested a pot of
chocolate in exactly half an hour.  That should give the chit just enough time
to fall asleep only to be awakened again.

It was shaping up to be a very pleasant day.

*                    *                    *

Riverton had received the summons from Lynwood first thing
that morning.  It had been phrased as an invitation, but had the tone of a
royal command.  As Riverton sat in the duke’s study he regarded his friend who
was about to entrust his sister into another man’s care.  While Riverton would
be only too glad to see his own sisters married, he knew just how close Lynwood
was to Lizzie.  In many ways, the duke had been surrogate parent to her. 
Riverton hoped he could live up to the faith Lynwood had in him.  He had to. 
He couldn’t think of letting Lizzie down.  He also hoped Lynwood had no idea
where Lizzie had been the previous evening. 

“I understand I’m gaining you as a brother,” said Lynwood,
seated opposite Riverton in a chair near the chess board. 

“Yes,” said Riverton, clearing his throat.  “I know it may
seem a bit sudden, but I wanted to formalize things are soon as possible.”

“And how exactly did this proposal come about?”

Riverton took a moment to study the chess pieces beside him,
despite having seen them countless times before.  “Has your sister spoken to
you about this?”

“I’m more interested in what you have to say,” said Lynwood,
leaning back in a deceptively relaxed pose.

“Do you have an objection to the match?”  Riverton wasn’t
sure what he’d do if Lynwood did, but it would likely involve a quick trip to
Scotland. 

“I have absolutely no objection to the match.”

Riverton relaxed at last.

Lynwood continued.  “I just want to know what event – or
events – transpired that brought you into contact with my sister at such a late
hour of the evening.  It was, to say the least, highly irregular.”

Riverton cleared his throat.  “And Lizzie didn’t say
anything to you?”

Lynwood had no response, other than the clear-eyed gaze that
awaited a confession.  It was a tactic the duke had used to his advantage time
and time again in the House of Lords.  Now Riverton finally had some empathy
for those poor sots who’d been on the receiving end of it.

“Lady Elizabeth had some questions about my motivation in
wanting to marry her.  I believe she was afraid I’d offered solely to be of
assistance to her and her family.  And while I certainly do want to help in any
way I can, I assured her my interest extended beyond that to more personal
factors.”

Lynwood raised one eyebrow.  “How personal?”

Riverton rather wished the duke would pick up his dueling
pistol and be done with it.    “I esteem your sister.  I respect her very
much.  I admire her intellect and her desire to better the lives of others,
although I disagree with how she channels that energy.  She is kind, witty and beautiful. 
And I look forward to making a life with her.”  Which was true.  But it was
astonishing how much he was looking forward to his marriage, when he’d spent
most of his adult life avoiding that state.

“And there’s nothing else you’d like to tell me?” asked
Lynwood with a severity that made Riverton wonder whether a pistol really would
be presented.

“No,” said Riverton.  “I believe that is everything I’d ever
want to admit to you.”

There was one silent moment when Riverton calculated how
quickly he could run for the door if Lynwood attacked.  Under normal
circumstances, he and Lynwood were evenly matched in fisticuffs, but he
couldn’t hit back at a man who was defending his sister’s honor.  Especially
when Riverton had so thoroughly enjoyed compromising that sister the previous
evening.

Then Lynwood broke out into a grin.  “I won’t torment you
further, Marcus.  I’m sure you were the perfect gentleman with my sister last
night.”

Funny, thought Riverton, how those words of faith tormented
him more than an actual punch would have.

Lynwood made his way to the brandy.  “I believe this calls
for a toast, regardless of the early hour.”  He poured each of them a drink,
then held out the glass to Riverton without letting go.  “Just always remember
that she’s my sister.  Be gentle and treat her like the lady she is.”  Then,
with a warning glance, he released the glass into Riverton’s hand.

Riverton’s heart sank.  Lynwood’s request was true and all
things correct.  Lizzie was a gentlewoman, born and bred.  She might have the
natural curiosity of a virgin, but Riverton had no business fantasizing about
doing things to her that would make a dockside whore blush.

And he’d been doing a great deal of fantasizing.  He’d gone
to bed hard last night and relieved himself three times during the course of
the night, just thinking of the many ways he and Lizzie would make love.

“What have we here?”  Arthur asked as he entered the study,
with Hal behind him.  Hal appeared as if he’d barely slept the night before,
and Arthur looked like he hadn’t been to bed at all.

“I was welcoming Marcus into the family,” said Lynwood, as
he poured his brothers a drink.

“You’re not adopting him are you?” asked Hal.  “How about a
little more brandy?”

Lynwood moved the decanter out of Hal’s reach, as Arthur
took his glass.  “Arthur, are you all right?” asked Lynwood.  “You look
decidedly unwell.”

“It’s nothing, I’m sure,” said Arthur, as he raised his
glass to his future brother-in-law.  “Congratulations, Riverton.  You’re
gaining a fine wife, even if she will keep you on your toes.”

“I look forward to it.  And where is my fiancée?”

“Out shopping for a trousseau with Aunt Prue,” said Hal.

“Already?” asked Riverton.

“Your future wife loves to shop,” said Lynwood.  “Something
you should keep in mind as we draw up the marriage contracts.  You’re likely to
become a good deal lighter in the purse, despite her not unsubstantial dowry. 
Sure you don’t want to reconsider, old boy?”

“Believe me,” said Riverton with a slow smile.  “I look
forward to being wed to your sister, just the way she is.”

*                    *                    *

“Here is the finished treatise,” said Lizzie, as she handed
it over to a clerk at the Examiner.  “However, this time, I should like you to
give the piece better placement.  And if you must allow one of those men who
draw the caricatures to sketch my likeness again, I prefer he capture my right
side and not the left.  My curls don’t seem to grow quite so wild on the
right.  I looked quite a fright in that last cartoon, wouldn’t you agree, Mr.
Carter?”

Mild-mannered Mr. Carter was as bewitched as the last time
she’d visited the paper.  He was hardly able to utter a word in the presence of
such a fine lady, even if she did have the sense of a peagoose.  An all together
delightful, beautiful and kind peagoose, but peagoose nonetheless.

“Permit me to say, milady, that even in a cartoon, you
looked elegant and refined.”  Mr. Carter cleared his throat.  “Are you sure you
want to publish another treatise?  Things still haven’t calmed down since the
last one.  Did wonders for our circulation, it did.  But I can’t think it was
easy for your ladyship.”

“Don’t worry a thing about me,” said Lizzie with a blinding
smile for the clerk.  “I only hope they increased your pay for putting it in
the paper in the first place.  Seems only fair, especially if the treatise
helped sell more copies.  Perhaps I should have a word with your boss.”

“Oh, no, milady.  I thank you, but I don’t think he’d take
kindly to that.”  In fact, mused Mr. Carter, it would likely do more harm than
good.  The paper’s editor Mr. Roberts had almost had apoplexy when he realized
Carter had printed Lady Elizabeth’s treatise.  Treason is what he’d called it. 
Against God and nature.  He’d tried to retract the evening edition, but it was
too late to get them back from the news boys.  But once Mr. Roberts realized
how many papers were sold and the subsequent surge in subscriptions, he’d said
he wished more ladies of quality would take to writing and lunacy.  One more
lady nutter and he’d be able to retire to Brighton.  Mr. Carter had taken
umbrage silently at the implication that Lady Elizabeth was a nutter.  She was,
but she was also quite nice for a lady of quality.

He hoped society would be nicer to her this time than the
last.  But he didn’t think it would.

*                    *                    *

“Another treatise!” said Aunt Prue, as she and Mariah waited
in one of Madame Juliette’s dressing rooms with Lizzie.  Madame and her
assistants were out of the room gathering dress samples and no doubt salivating
– in a refined French way – over how much money they would make if they were
the ones chosen to design Lady Elizabeth’s wedding gown and trousseau. 

“Of course I wrote another treatise,” said Lizzie as she fingered
the light pink peau de soie Madame had delicately suggested might be an
excellent choice for a night rail.  Lizzie could only imagine Marcus’s reaction
to it.  She imagined it in such vivid detail, that soon her skin was the same
color as the silk.

Aunt Prue cleared her throat, her eyes smiling at her niece.

“Of course I wrote another treatise,” said Lizzie again,
hoping she hadn’t lost complete track of the conversation.  “You didn’t think
I’d stop after the one.”

“I had rather hoped you would,” said Prue, as Mariah looked
on in concern.

“But it’s not like these problems are going away.  Just the
other day I overheard one of the maids saying a friend of her cousin’s had been
beaten by her husband yet again and nothing could be done about it.  It’s an outrage
how this is tolerated.”