Rescuing Rosalind (Three Original Ladies and Their Gentlemen) (3 page)

Pulling on his gloves, he prepared to present himself, such as he was. He hated having to wear gloves.

“Lady Wyndham, Lord Wyndham, I am Captain Kernow-Charles, Lord Deal. Thank you so much for your kind invitation. I have not been in a ballroom these many years.”

Lord Wyndham thrust his hand forward and shook Buck’s forcefully. “Demmed good show!” He turned to his wife. “My dear, this man is the major reason we beat the Frogs in the Caribbean. Took more demmed prizes in his frigate Antelope than anyone else sailing out of Jamaica.”

Lady Wyndham’s eyes lit. “A war hero! I am delighted that my husband insisted you be invited, my Lord. We are honored by your attendance.” She offered her hand, and he bowed over it.

“I am not much of a dancer, I am afraid. Too many years at sea.”

“You will soon learn,” she said confidently.

Lord Wyndham lordship added, “After commanding a frigate in the heat of battle, I should think anything else would be easy.”

“To tell you the truth, I miss it.” Buck smiled and then stepped away and down the staircase into the ballroom.

It took him some time before he could find Rosalind again. Finally, he thought to look on the dance floor. There she was. Dancing a minuet with a spotty youth who had very little chin. How she must chafe at the tame, measured dance!

She was taller than when they had first met. And exceedingly graceful. Gowned in turquoise, her auburn hair half up and half in ringlets, she was beautiful, indeed. As she made the turns, she inclined her head as though she were a ballerina, thus investing the staid dance with her own particular kind of drama. Obviously, she was playing some role she had cast for herself. He smiled, remembering the slight figure in the tunic among the topiary animals at Ruisdell Palace. He had offended her in at least a half dozen ways. But until he called her overindulged, she had taken it in good part. Why had he been so judgmental? He hadn’t had a shred of right to be. And speaking his thoughts had surely been unpardonable.

Would she even remember him? She had been on the Town three years now. Perhaps she was engaged or even married.

“I see you are observing my sister-in-law,” Ruisdell said, strolling up to greet him. “Perhaps a victorious navy captain could restrain her. I surely can’t.”

“She doesn’t like me at all. If she even remembers me.”

“I don’t think she would forget a man who gave her such a neat set down.”

“You heard about it?”

“Endlessly. She rang quite a peal over you. You wouldn’t credit some of the names she called you.”

He laughed. “Give me a sampling.”

“Popinjay.”

“That’s not too bad.”

“How about ‘Queer as Dick’s hatband?’”

“I say! She didn’t!” He laughed. “The little spitfire.”

“She has only become more difficult since she made her come-out. Recently, she has taken up with questionable company. Elise worries she has ruined her reputation. And I do not like Elise to be worried. I have been forced into the role of the evil stepbrother in an attempt to curtail the worst of her starts. And she is not the least awed by the fact that I am a duke.”

“Does she still desire to become an actress?”

“She is acting all the time.” The duke shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. “As a lifelong friend, I know I can trust you, Buck. I’m seriously worried about her. She’s seemed a bit desperate lately, feverish, as though she’s spinning out of control.”

Ruisdell’s words touched Buck with an unexpected concern. Rosalind was such a game little thing. Was she, too, looking for adventure? Did she feel trapped and nullified by the
ton
, as well? Oddly enough, their conversations at Ruisdell Palace had always stuck in his mind. He remembered her concerns about becoming a proper young lady, and so he suspected she found the rules of the
ton
onerous indeed.

The interminable dance ended. It only took a minute after she had spotted him before she made her way through the crowd and stood in front of him.

“If it is not ‘Old Sobersides,’ back from the wars!” she greeted him, offering a languid hand. Her eyes sparkled.

“Rosalind,” he said, his voice low as he bowed over her hand. “You look well.”

She twirled before him as though exhibiting herself. “Is that all you can say?”

“You have grown,” he said and grinned.

“I had forgotten your smile,” she said. “That almost makes up for the tepid compliment.”

She was a captivating little minx.

“Orlando has not yet appeared on the scene?”

“Alas, no! He is dashed slow to make himself known!” She plied her fan and gave an exaggerated sigh.

The girl delighted him with her tricks. How could one quell such spirit? Remembering Ruisdell’s description of her desperation, Buck felt a sudden spurt of fellow-feeling. He surprised himself by saying, “Well, in the meantime, I have a mind to try to beat the record time to Richmond tomorrow in my new phaeton. Would you care to join me?”

Clapping her gloved hands, she laughed without restraint. “Famous! Oh, I should love it above all things.”

Ruisdell cleared his throat again and raised a brow, looking at Buck severely. “Proper young ladies . . .”

“Oh,” Buck said, dashed. “Do they not? Pardon me. I am unacquainted with all the strictures upon young ladies. What a shame. I just purchased the most beautiful matched grays.”

Grasping her hands in front of her, she showed a naughty grin. “I shall wear a thick veil. Then no one will know my identity. My sister possesses just such an article.” She fanned herself and threw Ruisdell an arch glance. “I believe she enchanted the duke the first time she wore it. So mysterious, you know!”

“But I should not like you to court ruin!”

“I promise I shall be discretion itself. No one would ever expect me to be seen with you. They will not have a clue who the lady in the veil is. Now, do you not want to dance with me?”

“I never had the time or leisure to dance,” he said. “Perhaps you will join me for a game of piquet in the card room?”

“I am very good at piquet,” she warned him.

“I am sure you are. Excuse us, Ruisdell. I will see you at White’s tomorrow?”

The duke nodded, his lips in a thin line. “For dinner, I think. Without fail.”

Buck pursed his lips to keep from grinning at his friend’s command. He had the feeling that in his Rosalind, he had a tiger by the tail. Clearly, she liked walking a fine line between propriety and what this benighted society called ruin. He would have to take very great care that she was not discovered at it.

{ 4 }

F
ANNY FRETTED ALL MORNING,
lest it should rain. Running back and forth to the window in the midst of her toilette, she drove her maid, Becky, to say, “Miss, you have a case of the fidgets, and no mistake. If you can’t sit still, how do you expect me to arrange your hair?”

Elise entered the room. “Fan, Peter tells me you mean to race with Deal in his phaeton. Surely you know that will put you beyond the pale!”

“We are not racing. At least, only against the clock. And I am to wear your thick veil. No one will know it is me. We are only going as far as Richmond.”

“I thought you cordially disliked him.”

“He has improved vastly. I took ten guineas off him at piquet last night.”

Dismissing Becky with a nod, the duchess said, “Come here, Fan.” She sat on the sofa under the window in her sister’s dressing room and patted the space beside her. “I wish to speak seriously, dear.”

Rolling her eyes, Fanny joined her sister. “He still calls me Rosalind,” she said.

Ignoring this, Elise said, “What is driving this mad behavior? Can you tell me? Peter and I are very worried about you. You seem determined to bring about your own ruin.”

Fanny dropped her frivolous manner as her eyes fell. She felt the now-familiar weight on her chest and sighed. “Wretchedness. Pure wretchedness.”

“You are unhappy here in London with our family? You wish to go home?”

“Home? To Shropshire?” Alarm coursed through her. “You would not send me there, Elise!”

Her sister patted her hand. “I only meant to Ruisdell Palace. Sophie is rather lonely with only Anna for company. I thought perhaps your wretchedness had to do with London, the Season . . .”

“I should be worse in the country, though I do miss Sophie most dreadfully.” Thinking of her sister increased the unhappiness she carried about with her. At least with Sophie, she could be herself.

“What is it then, Fan? Why are you so set on breaking every rule, encouraging every rake . . .”

“You have told me that Peter used to be the worst rake in London.”

“I did not fall in love with him until he was on the road to reform, and that you know. When I saw you encouraging the attentions of Lord Warmsby, I could not believe my eyes! You must know that he ruined your friend Alexandra when he attempted to make off with her to the Border!”

“
You
were married over the anvil. There is nothing wrong with that. If her father had let things be, instead of chasing after them, she would have married in Scotland, like you, and be Lady Warmsby by now.”

“And would that not be a fine thing! The man is a gazetted fortune hunter and womanizer!”

“Well, now she will have to marry a Cit, I suppose. Someone fat and dusty with hairy side whiskers.”

Her sister drew a long calming breath. “Something is driving you to this behavior, Fanny. I want to know what it is.”

Closing her eyes, Fanny slumped. Tears leaked from underneath her eyelids. “I am so confoundedly blue-deviled! After finally getting away from Mother’s tyranny, I thought I would be free. But I feel like I am in a cage. Some days, I want to scream and go on screaming. The
ton
with all its restrictions is what is driving me to desperation. Perhaps this is how Sukey felt when she was a girl.”

“I have always been fond of Aunt Clarice’s companion, but I cannot see you as an eccentric, Fan. What could be more boring than collecting beetles, for goodness sake? Do you not want a family and children of your own?”

Before Fanny could form an answer, a footman entered the open doorway and announced the arrival of the Marquis of Deal. It was a good thing because Fanny did not have an answer ready.

Wiping her tears from her cheeks, she bounced to her feet, grabbed her bonnet and veil, and put them on her head. Elise secured the ends of the veil in a knot at the back of her neck.

“There!” she said. “See, Elise? No one will know me.”

“Wear your pelisse. I went for a morning ride, and it is brisk outdoors.”

“Yes, Mother,” Fanny said with feigned meekness.

* * *

“My, what a dramatic veil!” the captain declared. “People will think I am driving a very mysterious personage. But, bad luck for me, it seems. Even I cannot see your face.”

“You shall have to imagine it,” Fanny said.

She relished the feeling of his gentle mastery as he seized her around the waist and lifted her up onto the perch. “Oh,” she exclaimed, catching her breath. “This is very exciting. I have never ridden in a phaeton. I declare, I can see all of Mayfair from here!”

The phaeton was painted black and picked out in silver, the horses matched grays. So narrow was her perch that when Lord Deal was beside her, his very muscular thigh came in contact with hers. Fanny felt a thrill of adventure.

“This London traffic is deuced annoying,” the marquis said as he maneuvered the equipage through the tangle of carriages of every size and shape, drays, street sweepers, and tinkers hawking their wares above the sound of hoofbeats and the jangle of harnesses.

“I find it thrilling,” Fanny said. “Shropshire was so quiet, and nothing ever happened there.” Fanny arranged her pelisse over her knees. “Elise says that you came into your estate unexpectedly. You must tell me where it is and what it is like.”

“Deal is in Kent along the south coast. The estate is rambling and the house is a tumbledown. But the view of the sea is wonderful to behold. I find the sea air invigorating in any season.” He looked over at her and she nodded.

“As do I!”

“It is very tumble-down at the present time. The last Marquis of Deal had many estates and never lived in this one. No one has lived there for a generation. I have set roofers, glaziers, and brick-layers to work on the manor house to begin with. It is in very bad repair.”

“What about the grounds? Does it have a park?”

“Yes, and there is a badly neglected farm with a score of empty workers’ cottages. The garden looks haunted. You would probably adore it. There are thorny rose vines overgrown to menacing proportions. Right now, the entire property is ripe for a fairy tale.”

“It sounds vastly intriguing! How I should love to see it.”

He looked at her with a grin. “You would not have me put it in order, but use the whole thing as a stage set.”

Fanny was warmed by his words for a reason she did not precisely understand. As he maneuvered the streets, she considered him as a suitor. Though Deal was quite a bit older than she, Fanny did not think it a fantastic idea. He was certainly handsome enough. She fancied the cleft in his chin and those moss-green eyes, so startling in a face weather-beaten and tanned. He had not cut his hair, but still wore it pulled back in the old-fashioned style.

Her consciousness of him surprised her. Fanny had experienced very little attraction toward the pinks of the
ton
. And she had thought the marquis to be unwontedly sober. But the phaeton and this whole adventure belied that. She fell to wondering what it would have been like to see him command his ship.

When their race against time began, it was thrilling to the extent that she was even a bit frightened. She held on to the high seat with a tight grip. Heads turned as they whizzed by. And then the dreaded rain began. But the feel of the raindrops that spattered through her veil was exhilarating. Throwing her head back, she welcomed them with a laugh.

“Must we stop at Richmond?” she asked. “This rain would not keep me from wishing to go on.”