The Devil's Own Luck (Once a Spy) (20 page)

    “I thought you’d fallen asleep, Miss Mae.”
    The pale eyes sparked with annoyance. “Nonsense. I may rest my eyes on occasion but I make it a point to never nap during the day. It dulls the mind. Actually, I’ve been thinking about Lord Clarendon and I’ve come to the conclusion that you needn’t worry overmuch about the curse.” Her lips curved into a serene smile. “I do think he should be told but your husband doesn’t strike me as a horse’s ass and I would imagine he exercises caution when needed.”
    Cecelia’s eyes widened in surprise then she burst into laughter drowning out Mrs. Halston’s sputtering protests. “I agree with you completely,” she said once she had regained some degree of control. “My husband is no horse’s ass. I will tell him, though I doubt he’ll give it any credence. Men can be rather unimaginative that way. I’ll leave you now, but thank you for a lovely afternoon. We’ll do this again, soon.” Her spirits buoyed, she shut the door behind her and headed for her chambers. She couldn’t wait to write Priscilla about the incorrigible Miss Mae.

“Billy’s very bright,” Cecelia told Rand as she finished her last spoonful of crab bisque. “All three of them are. But Billy seems to be the only one interested in learning anything. Rosie interrupts constantly and David tends to daydream. I need to find some way to keep their attention, but I’m not certain how to go about it. It’s very frustrating.” She glanced at Rand who was shuffling through the post Winston had brought in a few minutes earlier. They were taking their mid-day meal of crab bisque, roast capon, glazed carrots and pickled mushrooms in a small salon overlooking the terrace. It was one of those rare occasions when they were able to have lunch together and he wasn’t paying her the slightest bit of attention. This would not do. “Rand. Are you listening to me?”
    “Mmm.” He picked up a knife and broke the wax seal on one of the letters.
    She scowled and resisted the urge to kick him under the table. “I’ve decided to redo the entrance hall,” she announced. “What would you think of using puce, tangerine and lime green as the dominate colors? I know it would be rather bright but it would also be rather dramatic, wouldn’t it? Oh, and cherubs. Lots of cherubs,
everywhere.
We would be known for our cherubs. We could line them up on the steps that lead to the entrance. Wouldn’t that be charming? I’ll write Aunt Mirabella and see if she could come out to help me. I do miss having all those little dogs around, too. I’d like to take at least three of Athena’s litter. You wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with them, would you?”
    He nodded absently as he continued to scan the correspondence.
    Thoroughly disgruntled, she tried again. “I’m leaving Devon to join Astley’s Amphitheater. I’ve always wanted to learn how to do flips on the back of a horse. And they wear such marvelous costumes. We wouldn’t see much of one another, but as you insist on ignoring me it shouldn’t matter all that much. And you could visit me. I know that performing is dreadfully common and we would both be ruined in polite society but I’ve always believed in following one’s dreams. Don’t you agree?” When he didn’t respond she nudged his foot none too gently and exclaimed, “Rand! I could grow horns and a tail and you wouldn’t even notice. Have you heard anything I’ve said?”
    He looked up. “We’ve been invited to a dinner party given by Lord and Lady Sheraton.”
    Her heart sank. “Oh, blast.” She had known it would happen. She just hadn’t known how soon. The prospect of sharing an evening with one of her husband’s former lovers wasn’t at all appealing. She chewed nervously on her lower lip. “I suppose we must go.”
    He nodded. “She included a letter with the invitation giving ‘heartfelt felicitations’ on our nuptials. As the dinner is more or less in our honor, I would say, yes, we must attend.” He set the letter by his plate and sighed. “We may as well get it over with, my dear. There will be others invited so you needn’t spend too much time with Lady Sheraton. We need to socialize with our neighbors and, in any event, you’re a social creature. You can’t spend all your time tutoring children and riding Penny. You’ll be bored silly in a month’s time.”
    Resigned to the inevitable, she groaned. “When is this dinner party?”
    He chuckled. “You sound as if you’re being led to the guillotine. It’s next Thursday. We’ve also been invited to stay the night, but I’ll plead a morning appointment I can’t change.”
    “Very well,” she grumbled. “I’ll write and accept their invitation, but in the meantime I’ll pray that a plague will break out before Thursday and we’ll all be quarantined.”
    “What a cheery thought. I can only hope your prayers won’t be answered. And by the way, you wouldn’t like working at Astley’s Amphitheater at all.”
    “Why?”
    “You’d have to cut off most of your lovely hair. Otherwise you’ll get tangled up in it.”
    “But you’re the one who doesn’t want me to cut my hair. I shouldn’t mind all that much.”
    “In addition,” he went on glibly. “You’d have to traipse about the country like a gypsy in a caravan, sleep in a flea infested bed with at least two other women beneath damp, musty sheets, you wouldn’t have Mattie around to help you dress or bring your morning chocolate or tea, you would never have the opportunity to wear your pretty gowns as traveling performers are sometimes the entertainment but never the guests at a society function.”
    “Oh hush,” she retorted. “You’ve made your point.” She speared a carrot with her fork. “At least, you heard some of what I said. It’s very annoying to be ignored.”
    “I heard everything you said.”
    “You couldn’t have heard
everything.
You were too busy reading the Sheraton’s invitation. One can’t read and listen at the same time. It’s impossible.”
    “But I can.” He ticked off his fingers. “Billy wants to learn and he’s doing well at his lessons. Rosie is constantly interrupting and David daydreams. You want to keep their interest but you don’t know how to go about it. You also want to redo the entrance hall in puce, tangerine and lime green. And you want to add cherubs to the decor. We will be known for our cherubs. But my question is, will the cherubs be puce, tangerine and lime green? What color are cherubs, anyway? Oh. I almost forgot. You want to invite Aunt Mirabella to help. And I refuse to share my bed with a horde of annoying dogs. It’s bad enough that that damned cat of yours finds her way to our bed.”
    Her lower lip edged out a bit but her eyes were shining with laughter. “That is so unfair! I was doing a brilliant job of working my way into a proper fit and you’ve taken away most my ammunition. What good is a proper fit if you haven’t anything to base it on? I’m feeling rather bereft.”
    “Most? What ammunition have I left you? You can’t be angry that I wasn’t listening because I was.”
    “You were listening but you appeared not to be and that’s intolerably rude.”
    “Would you rather I appear to be listening and not be?”
    She pretended to mull this over in her head. “That would depend. As long as I didn’t know you weren’t listening I wouldn’t mind because, well, I wouldn’t know.”
    “Good God, Cecelia.” He raked a hand through his hair. “You’ve curdled my brain. When did this conversation go awry?”
    Grinning, she speared another carrot. “So how did you acquire this ability to read and listen at the same time? And understand both?”
    “I don’t really know, but I’ve done well by it. Being able to do two things at once saves a great deal of time.” He laughed. “Though I nearly got kicked out of school because of it. My history instructor accused me of cheating because I passed the course yet didn’t appear to listen to a thing he said during his interminably long lectures. My grandfather was livid. By the time he was done with old fish face he was practically licking my boots. It’s an ugly thing to see a man groveling like that.”
    “Fish face?”
    “That’s what we called him. He had rather odd lips. Kind of like this.” He pursed his lips into a circle. “And when he lectured he looked like a fish gulping for air.”
    Cecelia went into a peal of laughter. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you your face could freeze like that?”
    “My mother did. Repeatedly.” He grinned. “But one heated kiss from you and I’d thaw out in no time.”
    “You have the most disconcerting way of charming your way out of trouble, don’t you?”
    “Years of experience.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek and then rose from his chair. “You must excuse me. I’ve accounts to attend to.”
    “And I’ve a letter to write,” she grumbled.
    “There’s nothing to fear, Cecelia,” he said softly. “All will be well.”

L
ady Sheraton was everything Cecelia had feared and more. The viscountess was past her youth, but still beautiful. Had she simply been beautiful, Cecelia wouldn’t have minded so much. It was the woman’s allure that bothered her. Everything about her bespoke a raw sensuality. Her movements were seductively languid and the throaty timbre of her voice was enough to beguile every man in the room. Shining blond hair was looped into thick coils held in place by a gold comb studded with amethyst and garnets. Amethyst teardrops dripped from her ears and a diamond and amethyst pendant on a gold chain drew attention to generous breasts barely covered by a clinging russet silk gown. Lady Sheraton had curves Cecelia knew she would never possess and it seemed dreadfully unfair that her face was no less magnificent than her body. Thinly plucked eyebrows arched dramatically over her drowsy pale blue-gray eyes and her cheeks and full lips were rouged. That she had resorted to the use of cosmetics was of little consolation. If there were tiny lines around her eyes and her complexion no longer held the first blush of youth, Cecelia decided that given all her other attributes very few men would care.
    And when their hostess had turned to her husband and said in her rich husky voice, “Isn’t she a charming young lady, Sheraton?” Cecelia had felt all of twelve years old. It wasn’t her appearance that made her feel as if she was still in the school room. She was dressed the part of a marchioness in a rich turquoise velvet gown trimmed with gold embroidery and seed pearls. The bodice was cut to thrust her breasts forward and gave her a respectable amount of cleavage. Mattie had worked for over an hour with the curling iron taming her unruly hair into long corkscrew curls that were secured by a large gold and diamond hair clip and then fell dramatically over one shoulder. The diamond earrings and matching necklace given to her by her mother-in-law were not large but elegantly styled. But despite her stylish gown and accoutrements she felt young and countrified and wasn’t at all certain she would be able to blend in with this small gathering of sophisticated personalities.
    Lord Sheraton had made a great show of kissing her hand and then murmuring in a voice that was every bit as sensual as his wife’s, “You are indeed enchanting, my lady, as well as beautiful. Your husband is a fortunate man.” He then added to Rand, “You’ve always had the devil’s own luck. It seems some things will never change.”
    As the evening progressed, she discovered her fears were largely unfounded. She was well versed in the art of conversation and had no trouble with wit or maintaining the dialogue with her dinner partners. Lord Holloway sat to one side and Sir Hammond on the other and they spent most of their time vying for her attention. Though the dark haired Sir Hammond was a trifle short, and the blond Lord Holloway a trifle plump, both men were well dressed and attractive enough to gain notice of the female members of the party.
    “My evening has improved immensely, since you arrived.” Sir Hammond lowered his voice and leaned toward her ear. “What was certain to be a dull dinner party has become utterly delightful.”
    She shook her head in mock reproach. “You exaggerate, Sir Hammond. Lord and Lady Sheraton have invited a number of witty and entertaining guests.”
    “But none as beautiful or witty as you,” Holloway said.
    Hammond scowled at him. “Leave the lady to me, Holloway. Don’t you have a fiancé waiting for you somewhere in the wilds of Scotland? I’ve heard the northern lasses have a horrendously jealous nature.”
    “Northumberland,” Holloway corrected morosely. “And there was no need to remind me of it. I’m well aware the parson’s trap awaits me.”
    Cecelia couldn’t tell if his sullen reaction was genuine or only a part of their game of banter. “I’m sure she’s perfectly lovely,” she said encouragingly. “She must have a number of good qualities.”
    With a heavy sigh Holloway said, “I fear I’m doomed, my lady. Her dowry is the only bright star in a rather bleak landscape.”
    Hammond broke into laughter. “Well said. It captures the situation beautifully.”
    Cecelia spread a bit of whipped butter on a slice of wafer thin caraway seed bread. “I think you’re both behaving abominably. Surely she has some good qualities.” She took a small bite. It was delicious and she had to remind herself not to eat too much of it as there were doubtless quite a few more courses to come.
    Holloway sighed again. “Truth be told, I can’t think of one. Nature blessed her with neither her face nor form.”
    Cecelia was determined to find a positive quality to the lady. “But there’s more to a lady than just her appearance. Is she clever?”
    Holloway shook his head.
    “Dumb as a post,” Hammond drawled.
    She scowled at him then turned back to Holloway. “Does she have a good sense of humor?”
    Holloway continued to shake his head. “No.”
    Cecelia decided to take one last try. “Does she have a good heart?”
    “I fear not.”
    “She’s a black-hearted shrew,” Hammond said. “A wealthy, black-hearted shrew but a shrew nonetheless.”
    Cecelia was torn between feeling sorry for the man and chiding them both for their
    unabridged candor.
    Holloway took a healthy sip of wine then placed his napkin against mouth. Cecelia noticed that he seemed to be holding the napkin against his lips for an unusually long time. His shoulders were shaking. He was attempting to cover his laughter.
    “You’re both horrible to tell me such lies.”
    “They aren’t lies,” Hammond said. “Merely conjecture on our part.”
    “I’ve yet to meet her,” Holloway explained. “
    She pursed her lips in exaggerated disapproval. “I find you both ill mannered and I believe I won’t speak to either one of you if you persist in maligning the lady.”
    Hammond put his hand over his heart. “Such harsh words. I’m crushed.” He then glanced down the table to see if Rand had noticed their antics. “Should I fear for my life, Lady Clarendon? You husband seems displeased.”
    Cecelia looked over at her husband. He nodded briefly and turned half an ear back to Lady Billings who was chattering away completely oblivious to the fact that no one was paying the slightest attention to her conversation.
    She found a bit of jealousy on Rand’s part immensely satisfying and she grinned as she said, “I don’t believe so. You’ve given him no reason and I trust you implicitly.”
    Hammond pulled a long face. “But I was hoping to persuade you to run away with me.”
    She pretended to think about it then shook her head. “No, I don’t think I will.”
    “That’s twice you’ve cut me to the quick, dear lady. The wounds are harsh. I’m not certain how much more I can take.”
    “Better to be flayed by Lady Clarendon than challenged by the marquis,” Holloway observed. “From what I understand, he’s a wicked shot. In fact, he’s good at most everything he does. Is there anything he doesn’t do well?”
    “Fish,” she said laughingly. “He’s an appalling fisherman. I’m much better at it than he is.”
    Hammond looked at her with surprise. “You enjoy fishing?”
    “I realize it isn’t really considered a lady’s sport, but I love fishing.”
    Hammond beamed. “Oh, I say, that’s excellent. Excellent. I do, too. Shall the two of us meet at Hayden’s Pond?”
    “No.”
    “That’s a royal fib, old man,” Holloway snorted. “You can’t abide fishing.”
    Cecelia paid their banter little heed. Her attention was taken by the presentation of a large ham carried out on an ornate footed silver tray by two footmen. The meat was studded with cherries, pineapple slices and cloves. The spicy aroma made Cecelia’s mouth water. “Look at that lovely ham,” she said dreamily. “And it smells as lovely as it looks.”
    Hammond groaned. “We’ve been upstaged by a pig.”
    The next hour was spent in conversation and sampling the various courses presented to the guests. Everything was delicious but she ate small portions as dictated a highborn woman of quality, and when the last course of fruit and sherbet was served she took three small bites and then regretfully rested her spoon lightly on the desert plate. She had thoroughly enjoyed herself and it wasn’t until they left the men to enjoy their cigars and port that she began to feel uncomfortable again.
    Lady Sheraton indicated that she sit next to her while she poured their tea in the drawing room. “You must tell us how you managed it, my dear.”
    Cecelia felt a slight tightening in her stomach. “I beg your pardon?”
    “Your marriage. Of course, with his recent title, Clarendon needed to marry. As your families have known one another for quite some time, I suppose it was a logical decision. A logical marriage is much more stable than a passionate one. Did your brother arrange the match? If so, he must be congratulated on his decision.” She set down the silver tea pot. “Cream and sugar, dear?”
    Cecelia stared wordlessly. She was temporarily stunned by the obvious implication of the comment. Did everyone believe it was a marriage of convenience? It was likely. Then she realized that Lady Sheraton was waiting for her to answer.
    “Yes, both please.” She was sorely tempted to tell them exactly how the marriage came about. Logic be damned, there was no lack of passion in their relationship. She accepted the cup Lady Sheraton handed her, took a sip of tea and then allowed a slow smile to spread across her face. She leaned forward slightly. Her lips were slightly parted and there was a gleam in her eyes.
    “Oh, I assure you, it’s probably the most illogical thing either one of us has ever done. It was a whirl wind courtship and Eugene was as stunned by the turn of events as we were. Clarendon dropped by on his way to Bryony Hall and...” She stopped abruptly.
    “Yes?” Lady Billings prodded.
    Cecelia blushed. “Clarendon and I agreed to keep the details secret. One should be entitled to a certain amount of privacy, don’t you think? Particularly when one is newly married. I can tell you that we’re wonderfully happy, though.”
    “Secrets are so romantic,” Lady Billings sighed dreamily. “And he’s so very handsome.”
    A buzz went around the room and Cecelia wondered what nonsense would hit the drawing rooms by tomorrow. Gossip didn’t travel near as quickly in the country as in town, but it did travel.
    Lady Sheraton wore a tight smile. “Of course, Clarendon will want to set up his nursery as soon as possible,” she commented.
    Cecelia smiled. “He’s quite determined. He does have a great deal of energy.”
    Another buzz went round the drawing room. Lady Sheraton’s smile grew even tighter.
    “How nice for you,” Lady Mansfield murmured. “How very, very nice.”