Never Miss a Chance (14 page)

“It is truly outrageous,” said Prue, as she quietly took
Mariah’s hand.  “But your brothers will be most displeased about your latest
treatise as will your fiancé, unless I miss my mark.”

“But now that I’m getting married I don’t have to fear for
my reputation anymore.  Everyone was so worried I wouldn’t find a decent husband,
but now I have one.  Well, almost.  And he’s most proper.”  Except for those
passionate kisses and caresses he’d bestowed on her the night before.  Nothing
the least bit proper about any of it.

Thank goodness.

“My dear,” said Prue, “while you no longer have to worry
about finding a husband, you should take some care about pleasing the one
you’re getting.  Lord Riverton is the very notion of propriety and I can’t
imagine he envisions his wife taking such a public role in politics.”

“He admires my intelligence and passion for my causes.”  He
also seemed to enjoy her passion for him.  Why oh why was it so difficult to
keep her mind on the matter at hand?

“All I know,” said Prue, “is that I’m not sure this was a
good time to publish another treatise.”  She stopped talking as madame and her
assistants walked back into the room.  And Mariah quietly pulled her hand away.

“
Maintenant
,” said Madame Juliette, “let us see what
is good enough for the beautiful bride-to-be.”

Right behind Madame, her two shop girls exchanged a pointed
look, then went about the business of pleasing one of their richest clients.

An hour later, as Lizzie, Prue and Mariah were leaving
Madame Juliette’s, they met Lady Martin and Lady Isabelle who were entering. 
The girl’s face lit up.

“Lady Elizabeth!  It’s such a pleasure to see you again.”

“And you as well,” said Lizzie with genuine fondness for the
girl.  She’d proven to be an apt student at the play, despite her mother’s
attempts to block any knowledge from getting into her head, at one point
hissing “Gentlemen do not care for bluestockings!” That prompted Riverton to
ask Lizzie for an explanation of what had just transpired on stage, then he
praised her knowledge of it.

Riverton was a man of great depth.  And broad shoulders.

“Aunt Prue, Miss Mariah, I trust you know Lady Martin and
her daughter Lady Isabelle?”

“Lady Martin and I are acquainted,” said Aunt Prue coolly, “but
I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Lady Isabelle.”  She turned a warm smile
on the girl.

“And you won’t, either,” said Lady Martin, as she ushered
her bewildered daughter into Madame Juliette’s.

“If only every overbearing matron could be got rid of so
easily,” said Lizzie as she set off down the street.  “What say you to
Gunter’s?  Ned, Jane and Vi should be there within the half hour.”

“I’d say that’s a lovely idea,” said Mariah quietly.

*                    *                   *

“But Mama,” said Vi, with all the anguish a six-year-old can
muster, “how can I possibly choose among all the different ices?”

“I don’t think you should have to choose,” said her doting
papa.  “Why not have one of each?”

“Ned!” said Jane, who could barely be heard over the squeals
of Vi’s delight, “we cannot possibly order that many ices.  It would give her a
terrible stomach ache.”

“Then she need eat only one bite from each.”

“Do I have to have only one bite, Papa?  I can eat all of
them, really I can.”

“But poppet,” said her mother with an eye on Ned, “I don’t
want you to feel ill.”

“I won’t!  I promise!”

“And it would be very wasteful,” continued Jane, as she
brushed Vi’s hair out of her eyes.

“I can certainly afford it,” said Ned.  “There’s nothing I’d
rather spend my blunt on than my two favorite girls.”

Lizzie watched as Jane simply shook her head and gave his
hand an affectionate squeeze.  Having missed the first few years of Vi’s life,
Ned was doing everything in his power to make it up to her now.  It was rather
endearing, really, and made Lizzie wonder what kind of father Riverton would be. 
Frightfully efficient, she thought.  Then she wondered about the process that
would get her with child, and found she had absolutely nothing to add to the
ice debate.

“I have an idea,” said Aunt Prue.  “What if everyone ordered
a different flavored ice, then Vi could sample each of them with us?”

“That’s a great idea, Aunt Prue!  Can we do that Mama and
Papa, please?”

“Of course,” said Ned.  “And I shall order their very best
eel ice.”

“What?” exclaimed a clearly dismayed Vi.

“Your papa is teasing you, poppet,” said her mother, as Ned
winked at his worried daughter.

“May I join you?” 

Lizzie awoke from her reverie to see a particularly well
turned out Riverton standing near the table, wearing fawn trousers, a light
blue waistcoat and matching jacket.  It was as if she’d conjured him from her
thoughts, even if he was a bit more formally attired than what she’d been
imagining.  He was much more attired in general.

Her thoughts coupled with his very presence had the
disconcerting effect of robbing her of speech. 

“Riverton,” said Aunt Prue, “you’re just in time.  Please
sit down.  We were ordering ices – what would you like?”

Riverton took a seat next to Mariah, giving him a clear view
of Lizzie.  “Chocolate, if you please.”

“I’m afraid that’s quite impossible,” said Prue.  “Vi has
already ordered it.”

“Pardon me, Miss Violet.  I didn’t realize they only had one
serving left.”

“You can have it if you want, my lord,” said Vi as sincerely
as she was able, with disappointment written plainly across her face.

“You miss my point, Riverton,” continued Prue.  “We’re all
having different flavors, so Vi can sample each of them.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan.  Perhaps I should
choose lemon.”

“My beautiful wife already chose it,” said Ned.

“Coconut?”

“That’s mine,” said Lizzie, proud of herself for finally
finding her voice.

“But you could share with her,” said Vi.

“I look forward to it,” said Riverton, as he flashed a smile
at Lizzie that thoroughly warmed her.  Everywhere.

“Mint?”  At the look of Vi’s obvious distaste, he asked. 
“What flavor would you suggest, Vi?”

“We haven’t had strawberry yet, Lord Riverton.”

“Then strawberry it is.”

After they placed their order, Jane turned to the ladies. 
“How was the shopping?  Did you order your trousseau?”

“What’s a trousseau?” asked Vi.

“Something you won’t have to buy for many, many, many years
because your papa won’t let any boys near you,” said Ned.

“I don’t like boys.”

“No words could possibly make me happier,” said her papa, as
he kissed the top of her head.

“Unfortunately, we didn’t get to do quite as much shopping
as we would’ve liked,” said Prue.  “We had to make a stop along the way.”

Lizzie nudged her aunt under the table, as the ices were
served.

“Minsberg Millinery?” asked Jane.  “I saw a beautiful bonnet
in the window earlier today.”

“No, we weren’t shopping,” said Prue.  “It was more of an
intellectual pursuit.”

“A trip to Hatchard’s?” asked Riverton.  “I would’ve liked
to have joined you there.”  He dipped his spoon into Lizzie’s ice, brushing her
hand as he did so.  It was both innocent and undeniably erotic.

“The Examiner,” said Lizzie with a sigh.  “We stopped at the
Examiner.”

“What?” asked her brother.

Riverton just stared at her, as he swallowed his spoonful of
ice.  “May I ask what business took you there?”

“The same business that took me there before, my lord.  I
gave them another treatise.”

The table then erupted with the kind of spirited discourse
rarely seen at Gunter’s.  The adults were trying to keep their voices down,
which made the other patrons strain even more to hear.  Alliances were drawn on
gender lines.  Vi didn’t know what the fuss was about, only that it gave her unimpeded
access to the ices around the table because the grown-ups were talking too much
to eat.

In the end, she did get that stomach ache her mother had
predicted.

And so did Lizzie.  And so did Marcus.  But not from eating
too many ices.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The carriage was exactly as described in the anonymous
note.  Unmarked, parked at the end of the block.  It was obviously expensive
and the Earl of Stalford wondered which lady of the ton awaited him inside. 
The note had been written in a feminine hand, probably belonging to yet another
bored matron looking for diversion.  He certainly wasn’t opposed to such a
thing.  Lord knows he’d bullied enough of his peers into submission in Lords by
day, then cuckolded them with their wives at night.  Or sometimes in the
afternoon.  Morning assignations weren’t exactly unheard of, either.  He just
hoped whichever lady awaited him was comely enough to entice him.  In truth, it
didn’t take much to get him in an amorous mood, but it was always preferable to
be able to keep his eyes open.

He reached the carriage then, as instructed in the note,
knocked three times in rapid succession.  After a brief pause, but surely
longer than it had to be, a voice inside bade him to enter.

As Stalford entered the carriage, two things became clear. 
The first was that the lady sitting opposite was quite plain in the dim
lighting and was likely something to frighten goats in bright sunshine.  The
second was that her obvious wealth made her distinctly more attractive.    She
banged on the roof in an imperious manner to signal the driver.  The carriage began
to move immediately after being given the signal, which meant her coachman was
either highly efficient or scared of his mistress.  Judging by her stern
demeanor, it was likely the latter.  Stalford was a bit nervous himself.

“You are ten minutes late,” said the lady, whom Stalford
vaguely recognized as being an unpopular choice for a dance partner. 

“My apologies,” said Stalford, as he fixed his cuffs and
calculated whether he could summon an erection if ordered by the goat
frightener – for he had no doubt it would come as an order and not a request –
to get one.  “Have we been introduced?”

Irritation flashed through the woman’s eyes, but no
surprise.  She was probably used to being overlooked.  Perhaps in favor of a
more comely sister.

“I am Lady Edith Redmond,” she announced with great
importance.  “My father was the Marquess of Riverton.”

Of course, thought Stalford, that prig Riverton’s sister. 
The elder.  He had another sister who was quite a looker, even if she was
reportedly of a most unpleasant disposition.  This one wasn’t any more
personable and had plaguey looks on top of it all.  Hopefully he could complete
his business with the shrew quickly, whatever it was.  Then maybe look up the
sister at the next rout.

“Let me come to the point,” said Edith in a thin, whiney
voice.

“Please do, madam.”

“Your estates are close to ruin, your luck at the gaming
tables is, shall we say, ‘suspicious,’ and will likely see you on a dueling
field at dawn.  And you are perilously near point non plus, if not there
already.  Is that an accurate summation?”

Completely.  He resented the fact that some unpleasant spinster
had the audacity to confront him and even more surprised to hear her
allegations of cheating.  Had Riverton heard something?   But surely Riverton,
being the upright prosy bore that he was, would’ve come to Stalford with the
allegations instead of carrying tales to his hideous sister.  Unless Riverton
was behind this preposterous meeting for some reason.  

“Your recitation of my sins grows tedious.  What do you want
from me, madam?” he said coolly, then fought a momentary panic.  What if she
was about to propose marriage?  Riverton’s sisters would be extremely well
dowered, even the homely one.  Especially the homely one.  How much would she
have?  How much would Stalford sell his name for?  He’d known for years that
his only financial salvation would be a rich bride.  But in the imaginings of a
randy young man, said anonymous female would be as pleasing in form as she was in
an account ledger.  Clearly, Lady Edith Redmond wasn’t pleasing in anything but
dowry.  Stalford would have to ensure his future mistresses were as beautiful
as Edith was plain.  Thank God he’d have the blunt to do it.

“Good God man, you look like you’ve taken leave of your
senses.  And from what I can tell, you have little enough to spare,” said Edith
to Stalford’s obvious surprise.  It was a rare lady indeed who ever stood up to
him.  “I have a business proposition for you.   I want you to seduce Elizabeth
Kellington.”

Stalford was a born cynic, able to size up most people
immediately, which was a decided asset at the tables.  But of all the propositions
he’d have expected to issue forth from Edith’s thin, pursed lips set in her
frowning, fleshy face, this wasn’t one of them.

“Excuse me?  I don’t believe I heard you correctly.”

“I’m certain you did.  And once it sinks in you’ll no doubt
be relieved that I’m not suggesting a marital alliance between us.”

Edith paused just long enough to gauge his reaction. 
Stalford had the presence of mind to look like he was about to deny the
statement, while ensuring he didn’t say anything quite so ridiculous aloud. 

“Just as I thought,” said Edith.  “Unable to think with
anything other than your cock.”  At his look of surprise, she continued.  “I see
I’ve shaken you out of your lamentably transparent ennui with my language. 
Good.  We have much to discuss and not much time in which to do it.  My brat of
a sister expects to use this carriage for a visit to the modiste.  If we’re
late in returning, she’ll blister John Coachman’s ears.”

“You care for your servant’s welfare?” asked a skeptical
Stalford.

“About as much as you care for your doxies, but whenever our
brother hears of us abusing the servants in any way our allowances get
reduced.  And that I do care about.  Mama is hosting a house party at our Kent
estate.  You need to ensure Elizabeth Kellington is there, then you need to get
her to marry you.”

“While I certainly have no objection to pursuing Lady
Elizabeth, I thought she had an understanding with your brother.”

“Are you always this much of a lackwit?  I’m trying to
detach my brother from that bluestocking but need help accomplishing it.   You
take her from him, and I’ll ensure a suitable bride is made available to him.”

Stalford eyed the woman with the abrasive tongue.  No wonder
Riverton spent so much time in Lords.  Who would go home to family such as
this?  “What do I get out of it?”

“Besides a rich bride and a powerful brother-in-law?  I
should think that would be quite enough.”

“Ah, but I’m a lackwit who’s never been satisfied with
‘quite enough.’”

Edith considered him for a long moment, her eyes roaming
over him appraisingly.  In most ladies, it would be seductive.  With Edith, he
felt rather like a horse at Tattersall’s with problematic teeth.

“I suppose some sort of monetary reward might be in order,
providing you accomplish what I’ve told you to do and don’t muck things up.”

“How sizable of a reward?”

“Don’t push your luck, Stalford.  You need to reserve as
much of it as you can for the tables.  Just find a way to get her to the
party.  You’ll get your blunt when you break her away from my brother.  Now get
out.  Charlotte needs the coach.”

After banging on the roof again, the coach stopped
alarmingly quickly.  When Stalford stepped out he found himself on the other
side of the park, quite far from where he needed to be.

“How will I get back to my own carriage?” he asked Edith.

“If you can’t figure that out, you have no chance in hell of
taking that woman away from my brother.   Don’t be a total failure, Stalford. 
It’s quite ugly to witness.”

With that, Edith slammed the door in his face, then pounded
on the ceiling to the beleaguered coachman.  Stalford barely had time to jump
out of the way.

The woman had more personality than her brother.  He’d give
her that.  But then, most people did.

*                    *                    *

“I cannot believe,” said Lynwood, for what Elizabeth thought
was surely the sixth or seventh time, “that you would be so foolhardy again!”

Ever since arriving home a quarter of an hour earlier, her
brothers had been taking turns telling her exactly what they thought of her
judgment.  Or, as they put it, her complete lack thereof.

“Foolhardy doesn’t come close to describing it,” said Hal. 
“It’s not enough to spout such ridiculous notions once, but to do so again is
beyond the pale.  I know you’ve never been in favor of using a switch on any of
us, Liam, but I believe now might be as good a time as any to start.  I’ll go
cut one myself.”

Riverton took a protective step toward Lizzie.

“For heaven’s sake, Riverton, I was only kidding,” said
Hal.  “Although I do think she has less sense than a headless chicken.  I’m
surprised you’re so sanguine about the situation.  Your reputation is at stake
now, too.”

“I believe we should all take a deep breath and look at
things more calmly,” said Prue.

“Maybe that’s her problem,” said Hal.  “Too little oxygen to
her brain.”

“My brain is perfectly fine, thank you very much,” said
Lizzie.  “And I hardly need to take lessons in propriety from a man who had to
jump out a boudoir window to avoid an angry husband.  Twice in one night.”

“How do you hear of such things?” asked Hal.

“I have my sources,” said Lizzie.

“Lynwood, you really should banish the chit to her room
until the wedding,” said Hal.  “Then she can be Riverton’s problem.”

“God help you man,” said Ned to his future brother-in-law. 

“Ned!” said Jane.  “Apologize to your sister.”

“Perhaps,” said Riverton, before the discussion could get
even more out of control, “I should have a word alone with my fiancée.”

Lynwood hesitated, clearly unsure whether to cede his
authority, but then relented.  He ushered everyone out of the room, then closed
the door, leaving Lizzie alone with Riverton.

During the past week, as Lizzie had been putting the
finishing touches on her second manifesto, she’d been motivated by her desire
to effect change.  Her first manifesto had grabbed everyone’s attention.  This
was the one that was going to get Parliament to act.  To take the issue
seriously. 

She hadn’t spared a great deal of thought for how her
brothers and her fiancé would react.  She’d had a fairly good inkling of their
likely response, but figured there’d be a great deal of blustering, then they’d
rally around her in a protective circle.  Her brothers’ reactions had indeed
been very much like that.  Well, they were still in the blustering phase, but
she had faith the protective circle would eventually form. 

But Riverton’s reaction hadn’t been anything like the
others’.   Instead of blustering, he’d been quiet.  Possibly too quiet.  During
the drive home from Gunter’s, Riverton had barely said a word other than
declaring he wanted to go into Lynwood House with them, rather than return to
his home.  He’d barely looked at her, and the one time she did get his
attention, his eyes had been solemn.  It had fleetingly passed through her mind
that he might end their engagement, although surely not, since an honorable
gentleman could never do such a thing.  And Riverton was definitely a man of
honor.

Which was fortunate, because regardless of the ambivalence
Lizzie might’ve felt originally about her engagement, she knew with a certainty
she wanted it to continue.

So she was left alone with Riverton, anxious to hear what he
would say next.

Riverton studied the woman he was head over ears in love
with.  One of the reasons he was attracted to her was because she was no meek
miss.  She would continually challenge him, keep life interesting.  But he
hadn’t intended life to be quite so interesting in just this way.  An
adventurous spirit in the bedroom was an admirable trait for a wife.  One who
continually enmeshed herself in political disputes was another thing entirely.

“You’ve been quite busy,” he said, breaking the silence of a
few moments.

“Marcus,” she sighed, “if you’re going to ring a peal over
me, I’d much prefer you’d get it over with, rather than carrying on in such a
somber manner.”

“Would ringing a peal over you get you to stop your
political activities?” he asked.

“Would ringing a peal over you get you to stop your
political activities?”  she replied.

Lizzie waited for him to say that as a member of the House
of Lords, it was his obligation to engage in political activities, while it was
surely just a hobby for her, similar to needlepoint or playing the pianoforte
or some other entirely useless female “accomplishment.”  At that point, she’d
remind him that it was the very unfair nature of the political system that kept
her from taking a seat in Parliament and that if the sexes were truly equal,
she would be there fighting for her causes, as legitimately as he.

So she waited for him to step into her cleverly baited trap.

He studied her a moment longer.  “I can see your point.” 

Then he walked toward the door, presumably to join her
brothers who were no doubt eavesdropping in the hall. 

The very reasonableness of his response was most vexing.

“Where are you going?”

“To take my leave of your family, then go home.”

“But we’re talking.”

That at least got him to stop and turn to her.

“My apologies.  Was there something else you wished to
discuss?”

“I don’t think we’re done with this topic.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything more to debate.  You are
clearly committed to your cause and have chosen your course of action.  I would
rather you stopped those activities.  You’re aware of my wishes, but choose to
go on as you please.  Have I surmised the situation correctly?”

Lizzie blinked.  This was absolutely not the way she thought
the conversation would go, even if she couldn’t very well argue with the
outcome.  “Yes, that seems to be an adequate summation.”