The Diabolical Baron (6 page)

In London, Caroline took pains to avoid getting
over-absorbed in her music. The many distractions of town, coupled with the inferior performance of the pi
anoforte in the rented town house, kept her in touch
with the normal world. Today, however, she had been seduced away from her good intentions by the fine in
strument Jessica owned. Gina was doubtless waiting
impatiently.

She was breathless and flushed from hurrying when
she burst into the sitting room to find Gina. She took
two steps into the room and stopped in shock. The Di
abolical Baron was there.

Jason did not miss her gasp at seeing him. Clearly
Miss Hanscombe must learn that when he said he
would do something, it was as good as done. Not for
him the casual social promise! He said he would call,
and was here at the earliest acceptable hour.

He was pleased to see her, having endured a quarter-hour of
Lady Hanscombe’s intrusive chatter as well as the
forcible introduction of Miss Gina. A good-enough
girl, but not one he could envision as Lady Radford;
that jolly country squire from Almack’s would suit her
very well.

Caroline at least had possibilities. Thank
heaven she wasn’t a talker like her mother.

“Good day. Miss Hanscombe,” he said smoothly as he rose and made his bow. “The morning air suits you
admirably. I have come to beg the honor of taking you
for a turn in the park.”

Caroline blushed and looked at the carpet. “It would
be a great pleasure, my lord, but... but I am engaged
to my sister.”

“Oh, that is quite all, right, Caro,” Gina said help
fully. “We can go tomorrow. I shouldn’t wish to interfere with your enjoyment.” She cast a roguish look in
Lord Radford’s direction. “Besides, Gideon will be
here soon and we are also going for a drive.”

“Indeed, Caroline, it was very bad of you to keep his
lordship waiting,” said her stepmother sternly.

“She did not know when I was coming, Lady
Hanscombe. But I do hope you are now free to accept my invitation,” he said to her.

“Of course, Lord Radford,” she said, still studying
the carpet. “If you will but give me a few moments to freshen up, I will be with you directly.” With that, she
turned and left the room quickly enough to qualify it
as flight.

She hurried up the stairs in confusion. What was the man doing here? Surely he had better things to do.

She
entered her room and took a quick inventory of her
wardrobe. The gray morning dress with dark blue trim
should do; she always looked as if she were succumb
ing to a minor illness when she wore it. She changed
quickly, and spent a moment combing her hair over
her brow to conceal her face more.

To complete the ef
fect, she took her least favorite bonnet, one of her step
mother’s castoffs. It had been unimpressive even in its
salad days, and age had not improved it. She drew a
deep breath to calm herself, then proceeded down
stairs to meet her fate.

Lord Radford studied her as she entered the salon. He gave her several points for the speed with which
she had made ready, but had to subtract them for the
poor results. Really, the girl dressed a fright. She had
looked quite pretty when she came in from outside;
now she looked like a nondescript governess. Her
wardrobe must certainly be altered as soon as they
were betrothed.

Even a young woman as inattentive to fashion as
Caroline could not fail to notice Lord Radford’s high-
perch phaeton. It was magnificently black, with ac
cents in silver. The superbly matched black horses
were clearly of superior lineage, and their harness con
tinued the black-and-silver theme.

Jason watched Caroline’s eyes widen and asked,
“Do you approve?”

“It is not for me to approve or disapprove, your
lordship.”

“Nonsense. You are entitled to an opinion, and I’m
sure you have one, even if you are not in the habit of
stating it,” he said as he helped her up into the vehicle.

“Well, it is very dramatic,” she said hesitantly as she
settled herself against the black velvet squabs. “But
perhaps a little . . . ominous.” She certainly couldn’t
tell him it exactly confirmed her naming him the Dia
bolical Baron.

“Your mother likes it. Before you returned, she told
me it was most handsome.”

“Stepmother.”

“Ah, we are making progress, Miss Hanscombe!
That is the first comment you have made that goes be
yond the minimum necessary to answer my remarks,”
Jason said genially. He was pleased to learn that the
girl was no blood relation to Lady Hanscombe. He
would rather not have a wife from that mold.

“I
...
I’m sorry, Lord Radford.” She flushed and
looked at the glossy horses before her. “I did not mean
to be uncivil.”

Jason cursed his misstep. He wasn’t sure whether
she took his remark as a criticism, or merely had no
sense of humor; in either event, he had lost any
ground he had made.

Glancing sideways, he guessed
the lovely porcelain skin would always betray her feel
ings in easy blushes. Unfortunate for her, perhaps, but
convenient for him.

“I am sure you have never been uncivil in your life.
Is this your first visit to London?” Back to the neutrali
ties of their first meeting at Almack’s; it seemed safer.

English weather was always good for extended con
versation, so Jason spent the drive through Hyde Park
discussing it while she replied in monosyllables. Yes, it
was unusually warm for late April. Indeed, it was very
pleasant; yes, rain would soon be needed for the crops.

They tooled elegantly about during this scintillating
discussion, attracting considerable attention from
those fashionable folk in the park this early. No one
could ever remember Radford taking a drive with a fe
male who could be safely introduced in mixed com
pany. And a marriageable miss just out of the
schoolroom? It must be serious!

Sublimely unaware of the speculations, Caroline
was slowly starting to relax. While she would have
preferred to be almost anywhere other than this con
spicuous vehicle with its even more conspicuous driver, at least she was in no immediate danger. She was still unclear about what kind of danger Lord Radford
represented, but she couldn’t shake that disturbing
sense of unknown forces around her.

They were heading back when a familiar
voice hailed them. George Fitzwilliam trotted his
horse over and gave a cheerful smile even though he
saw his chances of owning Jason’s grays rapidly di
minishing. “Good day to you, Miss Hanscombe, Jason.
A splendid morning to be taking the air.”

As he chat
ted easily, he studied Caroline. The chit didn’t seem
best pleased; the most positive thing one could say
about her expression was “resigned.” Perhaps his
wager wasn’t quite so hopeless after all.

After George had moved on to greet others, Jason
expertly gathered the reins and made a tricky turn
around a badly driven barouche. “Tell me, Miss
Hanscombe, do you have any special interests that you
would like to discuss? I am exhausting my store of
commonplaces, and it is your turn to suggest a topic.”

Caroline glanced at him hesitantly. “I am ... very
fond of music, my lord.”

Jason managed to avoid groaning, “Spare me!” but
she saw in his face the look of a man who had heard
too many painful concerts by conscientious, untale
nted maidens. So many weeping harps! Pounded pi
anofortes! Voices either inaudible or all too easily
heard in the next street.

In a society where music was a
necessary “accomplishment” for a young lady, great
crimes against the human ear were perpetrated. She
flushed again and looked across the park at a group of horsemen. “Of course it is of no importance,” she said
stiffly.

Jason sensed her withdrawal and felt a pang of re
gret. She was so vulnerable. Was he going to have to
watch every word for the next forty years?

He sud
denly realized he was almost old enough to be her fa
ther. His mind digressed—about fourteen years’
difference in age? He grinned as he remembered
Lizzie, the so-friendly dairy maid. Yes, technically he
could have been her father....

His off-leader shied slightly at another carriage,
bringing him back to the present. Assuming a properly
sober expression, he said, “I do wish, Miss
Hanscombe, you were not quite so nervous in my
presence. I am really not an ogre about to eat you.”

“Are you not?” she said in an unexpectedly dry
voice, slanting a quick glance up at him.

Jason was
startled both by her tone and by her surprisingly deep
blue eyes. He realized it was the first time she had
looked directly at him, and he had the uncomfortable
feeling she might have seen more than he intended.
Perhaps there was more to the girl than he thought. He
smoothly retreated to safe topics and his quarry re
sumed studying the surrounding traffic.

As they headed back to Adam Street, neither was
pleased with the way matters were progressing.

* * * *

While Jason and Caroline were circling the park,
Sir Alfred had summoned his wife to his study to
discuss their finances. A burly, choleric man, the
baronet was a breathtaking example of selfishness.
While he did have a modicum of interest in his fif
teen-year-old heir, Master Colin, and he quite en
joyed fighting with his wife, he had an almost total
lack of interest in the welfare or comfort of anyone
other than himself.

The handsome fortune he had in
herited was seriously depleted by years of self-indul
gence and poor investments. While he had wisely
refrained from mortgaging his estate, he had been fi
nancially embarrassed for some time now, and was
ready to check on the progress of his other “investments.”

“Well, Louisa, you promised that spending all of this
money launching the oldest girls would pay a hand
some return as well as getting them off our hands.
How do matters stand?”

“Quite well, Alfred. In fact there is a surprising de
velopment taking place at this very moment. I have al
ready informed you of Gideon Fallsworthy’s interest
in Gina. I am sure he is on the verge of offering for her,
and he seems so besotted he will probably take her
without a portion.”

“Yes, yes, I know all about him,” Sir Alfred said im
patiently. “But I do not scruple to say our financial sit
uation has worsened. The East India trading ship I
invested in is far overdue, and almost certainly lost. I had counted on the profit of that to pay for
...
never
mind what. Is there any chance a richer man may offer for Gina? If so, I’ll refuse to let Fallsworthy have her.”

Lady Hanscombe was revolted by her husband’s ca
sual greed, but she knew better than to argue the issue
on romantic grounds. “I really do not think that is pos
sible. She and Gideon have been so absorbed in each
other that her other suitors have looked elsewhere. E
ven if there were some
one else, I fear she would elope rather than give
Gideon up.”

“What kind of doxies have you been raising,
madam?” Sir Alfred bellowed. Like many men of ca
sual morals, he demanded that his daughters behave
with a propriety that he would have abhorred in a po
tential mistress.

“Watch your language about your daughter, sir! She
is no doxy, she just knows what she wants. Fallswor
thy is a very amiable young man, and I’m quite sure
the minx would be able to persuade him to run off,”
her proud mother said. “If you disliked the match, you
should have said so when they first met. You approved
at the time, you might recall.”