The Dark Earl (4 page)
It took him a moment to gauge her meaning; then he threw back his head and laughed with glee. “That’s why I didn’t touch yours, Harry.”
She shook her fist at him and hurried off, eager to see the fantastical displays that had been brought from around the world. An entire wing of the glass building had been divided into courts depicting the history of art and architecture from ancient Egypt through the Renaissance. Harry drank it all in, moving slowly so she could appreciate the fine details. She stopped to look at a display of extinct animals from around the world. She stared at some ugly green creatures made of plaster.
A deep voice from behind her said, “They are called
dinosaurs.
Do you like them?”
dinosaurs.
Do you like them?”
Harry turned around to see who addressed her. The gentleman was tall and extremely dark. There was something vaguely familiar about him that stirred her memory, and suddenly she was swept back to Shugborough, the mansion that had stolen her heart more than a decade ago. She could even smell the jasmine and honeysuckle. “I would call them monstrosities,” she drawled. “I much prefer
centaurs
.”
centaurs
.”
Their eyes met, and held. “So, you know who I am.”
“And you, obviously, are aware of my identity.”
Green eyes stared into pewter as the male and female took each other’s measure. Harry saw a man in his late twenties. Though handsome, his features were stern and unsmiling. He carried himself with a great deal of unbending pride, and had an animal magnetism that was fatally attractive.
“I think it unwise to wander about alone in this crowd. May I escort you back to your family, my lady?”
“You arrogant devil!” She laughed in his face. “I would be offended if you weren’t so ridiculous. I do not conform to the rigid rules of propriety, my lord!”
He looked pointedly at the cherries adorning her hair. “It is evident that your upbringing has been remiss. Your father should have taken you across his knee.”
“And tanned my arse? If I remember correctly, that’s what you threatened to do the last time we met.”
It was clear the young beauty was mocking him. She had been outspoken as a child; now she was downright brazen. Thomas Anson was tempted to take her by the shoulders and shake the insolence from her. He clenched his fists to keep his hands from violating her.
Anson possessed a supreme air of authority that rubbed Harry the wrong way. She threw him a contemptuous smile and turned away. Before she had taken a dozen steps, she came face-to-face with D’Arcy Lambton, the young Earl of Durham. He was the grandson of Lord Earl Grey, and a close family friend.
“Hello, Harriet. You look ravishing today.”
“D’Arcy.” She gave him her hand and he took it to his lips.
“Did you know they have a circus set up in the center transept?” He pointed in the opposite direction. “Oh, there’s my friend Thomas. Come, let me introduce you to him.” He led her toward Anson, and greeted him warmly. “Allow me to present Lady Harriet Hamilton. . . . This is my good friend Thomas, Lord Anson.”
The corners of Harry’s mouth lifted with amusement as she offered Anson her hand.
He took it stiffly, and bent his mouth to her fingers.
“You’re supposed to kiss it, not bite it,” she warned with a gurgle of laughter.
“You know each other?” D’Arcy asked with surprise.
“Thomas and I have been acquainted for years. We once conspired to steal some paintings together.”
D’Arcy laughed. “I warrant they were valuable. Thomas is an authority on art.”
Anson glared at her with disapproval. “You are incorrigible,” he muttered.
“Flattery, begod!” Harry teased.
“Harriet and I are going to take a look at the circus. Why don’t you join us?”
“Oh, yes, please do,” she urged. “I hear they have a tightrope walker.”
Anson accepted immediately. Since he knew her invitation was insincere, it gave him perverse satisfaction.
Harry, flanked by the two handsome lords—one fair, the other extremely dark—made her way through the crowd to the center transept. Trumpets blared, followed by a drumroll, and as everyone raised their eyes, they saw a man ascending a narrow metal ladder. He didn’t stop until he reached a dizzying height; then he took a firm grip on a long, thin pole and stepped out onto a high wire that was almost invisible. The crowd below gave a collective gasp.
“His name is Blondin. If he walks the tightrope successfully, it will make him famous,” Thomas predicted.
“A guinea says he doesn’t make it all the way across!”
D’Arcy coughed uncomfortably. “Thomas doesn’t make wagers. He is opposed to any kind of gambling on principle.”
Harry felt her cheeks flush. She knew she had made a faux pas. Instead of apologizing, she said recklessly, “Surely when a male wagers, it shows courage.”
Thomas’s features hardened. “And when a female wagers, it shows vulgarity. As a matter of fact, I find this entire display rather vulgar.”
“If you are referring to Blondin’s tights, I think they display his manhood magnificently.”
It was D’Arcy’s turn to flush.
Harry gritted her teeth. There was something about the dark devil that made her behave outrageously. She saw Anson’s eyes narrow. The look of censure he gave her was threatening.
If we were alone, he’d shake me until my teeth rattled.
If we were alone, he’d shake me until my teeth rattled.
Harry slipped her arm into D’Arcy’s, using him as a shield. “Did you receive your invitation to our ball? The guest list was extremely selective, but since you are an earl, we made an exception in your case,” she teased.
“You and Lady Beatrix are making your debut together. I assume you’ll be spending the Season in London and won’t be going to Barons Court until later in the year?” D’Arcy asked.
Harry sighed. “You assume correctly, more is the pity. I miss Ireland.”
“What is it that you miss?” Anson asked pointedly.
“I miss the people. They have an irreverent sense of humor. They are not straitlaced like the English, who worship at the altar of respectability.”
“To the Irish, drinking and gambling are virtues,” Anson said dryly.
“Indeed they are. I am grateful that they taught me to do both.”
His dark eyes were filled with censure. “You revel in audacity.”
“You have guessed my secret, my lord. Since I discerned your secret years ago, I warrant we are even.”
A cry of alarm from the crowd drew all eyes upward, where Blondin swayed precariously, before he regained his balance.
“Oh Lord, I can’t bear to watch. If he falls, it will make me ill. It’s outrageous that a man is forced to do such things for money.”
Anson’s grim expression softened. “You’ve just revealed another secret. . . . You are tenderhearted.”
“Yes, I do take pity on those less fortunate.” Her green eyes glittered with mischief.
“So you may consider yourself invited to my debut ball.”
“I admit to being guilty of showing my disapproval, Lady Harriet, but surely such cruel punishment doesn’t fit the crime.”
She threw back her head and laughed. “You do have a sense of humor after all!”
Chapter Two
“I
’d like a colored sash on this presentation gown,” Harry declared firmly.
’d like a colored sash on this presentation gown,” Harry declared firmly.
“Out of the question,” her mother said flatly. “White shows off your dark hair and green eyes to perfection. I don’t hear Beatrix complaining about having to wear white.”
“I know that white is flattering, but it’s the
principle
I object to. It is unheard of to be presented to the queen in anything but pristine white, and that is precisely my point.”
principle
I object to. It is unheard of to be presented to the queen in anything but pristine white, and that is precisely my point.”
“I won’t relent on this decision, Harry. Victoria’s court has rigid rules. If you don’t conform, it will reflect on your parents.”
“The queen might censure
you
, but Father can do no wrong in Victoria’s eyes,” Harry teased.
you
, but Father can do no wrong in Victoria’s eyes,” Harry teased.
“It would reflect badly on you too. Your virtue could be whispered about.”
“How ridiculous that wearing white declares one’s virtue. You’re usually quite lenient about letting me make my own decisions.”
“Too lenient!” Trixy declared.
“When was I too lenient?” the duchess demanded.
“When you caught her gambling with the Irish stableboys.”
“I was grateful that gambling was the only thing she was doing with them,” the duchess said dryly.
The modiste, who was doing the final fitting of the Hamilton girls’ presentation gowns, looked shocked. Their mother quickly changed the subject. “You needn’t wear the same gowns to your ball. If you are willing to risk your reputation, I’m sure Madam Martine will be only too happy to satisfy your craving for color.”
“I have some lovely pastel blue organza, Lady Harriet.”
“How bloody insipid!” Harry bit her lip when she saw the stunned expression on the modiste’s face. “Oh, I’m so sorry, madam. Please forgive me. I have a dreadful habit of speaking my mind.”
“Blue organza sounds very pretty to me, madam,” Trixy declared. “My sister is nineteen,
going on twenty
, and has the taste of an older woman.”
going on twenty
, and has the taste of an older woman.”
“That was unkind. You know that Harry’s debut was postponed because my dearest mother passed away.” Georgina, Duchess of Bed-ford, had died the previous spring.
“Trixy’s barb about my age completely missed the mark. At nineteen, I am a woman, while she and Jane are still girls.”
“There’s more to being a woman than turning nineteen, darling,” her mother stated.
“I assume you are speaking of virginity, or lack thereof,” Harry declared. “That’s another unfair burden that makes the sexes unequal!”
Madam Martine almost swallowed the pins she held in her mouth.
“Come down from your soapbox, Harry.” The duchess helped her daughter from the stool she was standing on. “I’m sure Madam isn’t up to a lecture on
women’s rights
. Just tell her what color you would like for your ball gown.”
women’s rights
. Just tell her what color you would like for your ball gown.”
“Pale green with an emerald sash,” Harry said without hesitation.
Her mother laughed. “You are Irish down to your fingertips. I’m sure your father will be delighted at your choice.”
“Uncle Johnny! I’m so happy you will be attending our presentation to the queen this afternoon. Without you, it would likely be dull and depressing as a London fog!”
Lord John laughed. “You flatter me, Harry. But what makes you think it’ll be dull?”
“Well, let’s face it. A score of debutantes dressed in identical white, chaste as the driven snow, attending Victoria’s Drawing Room, isn’t exactly a bacchanalia.”
“And what do you know of bacchanalia?” he teased.
“Nothing yet, but I’m hopeful my Season will rectify that.”
“I wish I were being presented today,” Jane said wistfully.
Johnny kissed her cheek. “Your time will come, Jane. And you won’t have to share the spotlight with your sisters.”
“But I like sharing things with Harry and Trixy. They make everything exciting.”
The Duchess of Abercorn rolled her eyes. “Only an innocent could think one of Victoria’s Drawing Rooms exciting.” She picked up her fan. “I assume we are using your carriage, John. Pray lead the way.”
“I love this Grand Staircase at Buckingham Palace.” Lady Beatrix gazed at the royal portraits that had been built into the walls.
“I much prefer Windsor Castle.” Lady Harriet’s crinoline swayed precariously as she ascended the marble steps. “Its ancient walls are steeped in history.”
The Hamiltons joined the other debutantes who were being presented at today’s Drawing Room and Harry marveled at the excited twittering of the young ladies. Since her father was Prince Albert’s groom of the stole, and she was a frequent visitor, she did not hold the royal family in awe as the other debutantes did. As she looked about, she decided that Trixy’s white gown flattered her dark coloring, but the fair-haired girls looked washed-out. The females were all shapes and sizes, from scrawny to lumpy.
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