The Fugitive Heiress (13 page)

“You may be right, sir,” Catheryn agreed. “Dambroke will flay him for this, but Teddy actually looked almost smug.”

“Precisely. He won’t care for the beating. Boys don’t as a rule. But you tell that lordship of yours that when he sends the boy back, I say he’s to send him with his own tutor and to lodge him with one of the dames in town!”

“When he … but you said he isn’t to come back at all!”

The twinkle was back. “In a rage, my dear. I’ll come to my senses. When the boy apologizes for his sins, thereby notifying me that he’s ready to return, I shall probably have a change of heart. Don’t tell him right away. Just don’t let Dambroke pack that boy off to any other school. I like him!”

“No indeed, sir! Thank you! Now, I must fly or he will be upon us.” She left him, her opinion of him greatly changed, and rushed to the carriage, hoping the earl might not comment upon her long absence. She needn’t have worried. He had gone ahead to bespeak their luncheon.

As the carriage lurched forward, Tiffany reported that Dambroke had first said that Teddy was to have no lunch but that she had prevailed upon him to change his mind by reminding him the boy had been two days on bread and water. The Honorable Edward looked up from his seat in the front corner with an impish grin. “She said she would send a maidservant out with a basket. That’s when he relented!”

Catheryn laughed. “Well, I’m glad he changed his mind. You will need sustenance to carry you through this day.”

Teddy grimaced and leaned over to straighten his stocking. His voice was gruff. “I expect he’s pretty angry.”

“Of course he is, stoopid.” Tiffany smiled sympathetically. “But he will not eat you. Very likely, you are in for one of his scolds and will go supperless to bed. That’s what Catheryn meant about needing sustenance.”

Catheryn frowned at this interpretation of her words, but the boy’s head came up, hope gleaming in his eyes. “Really, Tiffy? Is that all?” When his sister seemed about to compound the error, Catheryn spoke more sharply than she had intended.

“No, Teddy, it is not all!” Squelching Tiffany with a look, she continued, “Dambroke is displeased and rightly so, though I’ll say no more on that head, for Tiffany’s no doubt right about the scold. However,” she added with her customary frankness, “you must resign yourself to a thrashing as well. Dambroke has said so, and I doubt he makes idle threats.” The boy wilted, and Tiffany’s eyes reproached her, but Catheryn believed it would have been worse to allow him to think he would get off with only a scolding. “I’m sorry, Teddy, but you must not delude yourself.” Breaking into a rueful chuckle, she added, “And we’ve not even been properly introduced. I am your sort of cousin, Catheryn Westering, you know.”

The boy visibly pulled himself together and held out a slightly grubby fist. “Yes, ma’am. Tiffany told me about you while we waited. I am pleased to meet you.”

Catheryn chuckled again, squeezing his hand. “Well, no one can call you rag-mannered. I believe we are going to be friends, Teddy.” He smiled shyly at her.

Luncheon at the charming inn Dambroke had selected was no cheerful affair. Even Catheryn, fond as she was of food, was glad when it was done. The earl paid the shot, saw them back into the carriage, and rode off, leaving them to follow at his coachman’s leisure. Somehow, the knowledge that he would be impatiently awaiting their arrival lowered their spirits even more, and they spoke little on the return journey.

When they entered the front hall, however, it was Lady Dambroke who greeted them, hurrying from the saloon with a rustle of skirts and arms outstretched. “Teddy, darling boy!” He started to run forward but stopped abruptly when the library doors snapped open. Hovering servants disappeared as if by magic.

“Edward!” The boy turned slowly toward Dambroke, who stood on the library threshold, holding the door with one hand, his riding whip with the other. “You will oblige me by stepping in here at once, young man. I have a deal to say to you.” He flicked the short whip against his leg, and Catheryn trembled, rooted to the floor. Teddy hesitated, his eyes fixed upon the whip. “Now!” Startled by the sharp command, young Edward straightened his shoulders and strode determinedly across the hall and into the library. Dambroke shut the doors.

Catheryn still seemed unable to move. All her faculties were concentrated on those doors and what was happening behind them. Tiffany and Lady Dambroke also seemed frozen in place. The walls were thick and they could hear nothing at first, but Dambroke’s voice soon rose. Catheryn could make out no more than an occasional word, but the tone was sufficient to inform her that Teddy was indeed receiving a thunderous scold. Silence fell again briefly before Teddy’s voice, upraised in pain, told her what was taking place. She closed her eyes. Another silence, then the sound of the door. She opened her eyes.

Lady Dambroke started forward, but a look from the earl stopped her in her tracks. Dambroke still held the riding crop, and Teddy, shirttails hanging, was rubbing his eyes with the back of his sleeve, trying unsuccessfully to stifle his sobs. The earl looked down at him. “Seek your room, Edward. I do not look to see your face before morning, when we shall discuss what is to be done with you.”

“Have you not done enough?” Tiffany asked bitterly.

“That will do, Tiffany. Go, Edward.”

The boy started dejectedly up the stairs, dragging his jacket, and Catheryn drew a long breath and turned to Lady Dambroke. “I wonder if we might have tea, Aunt Elizabeth. It has been a very long day.”

The countess looked at her gratefully, and the tension was broken. Tiffany gave a shaky laugh. “Trust Catheryn to think of food.”

Even Dambroke permitted himself a slight smile, though Catheryn made a point of not responding to it “It is a fine idea,” he said. He motioned to the butler, who had taken advantage of his august position to remain on the scene. “See to it, Paulson. The yellow drawing room.” When the butler had departed, he spoke further. “Edward is not to be coddled, Mama. I want him to understand the gravity of his offense. He is to be left to his own reflections until morning.”

“It seems rather harsh, Richard. After all, he is my son. And what about his dinner?”

“He is not like to starve overnight, ma’am.” His expression was grim, and his mother’s protests subsided. Satisfied, the earl retired to his library.

O
NCE THE LADIES SETTLED
themselves and tea had been served, a silence fell. All three were thinking of Teddy, but none wished to discuss his misfortune. Finally, the countess roused herself to speech. “I had a visitor today, my dears. Your cousin, Mr. Caston, Catheryn. A nice young gentleman who thinks just as he ought, I’m sure.”

“Dear me,” Catheryn laughed. “Did he bore you to distraction, ma’am?”

“Don’t be impertinent. I must admit, however, that he seems to have seen a great deal of London in the past few days. And he uses such long words. He seemed to think it necessary, oddly enough, to apologize—several times and at great length—for your presence in this house.”

“Good heavens! I’m very sorry, Aunt Elizabeth!”

“Well, you should not be. I’m happy to have you here.”

“Yes, indeed, Catheryn,” Tiffany agreed. “You make it seem more cheerful than ever it was before. You won’t let him take you away, will you?”

“No, not if you truly don’t mind my imposing upon your generosity, Aunt Elizabeth.” That lady shook her head, smiling. “Well, I didn’t mean to apologize for being here, anyway,” Catheryn went on. “Only for subjecting you to such a call from Edmund. I forgot all about him, or I should have realized he would call today. I’m still out of charity with him, however, so it’s as well I didn’t have to see him.”

“As to that, my dear, you will. He dines with us.”

“How could you invite him, Mama, when you must have known Catheryn would dislike it!” But Tiffany’s eyes and Catheryn’s, too, began to twinkle as the countess explained.

“I could do nothing else. The man seemed riveted to the sofa! Fortunately, I chanced to recall that we are promised to Lady Heathcote tonight, so when he began to prose on about Lord Elgin’s Greek marbles, I simply interrupted in the most unmannerly way and invited him to dine and lend us his escort. Naturally, he had to return to his hotel to change.”

“Lady Heathcote’s ball!” Tiffany leaped to her feet. “Catheryn, how could we forget! It’s nearly four o’clock, and here we sit in all our dirt.”

Catheryn grinned but rose obediently from her seat. “We have plenty of time, Tiff. But, Aunt Elizabeth, won’t Lady Heathcote object if we bring an uninvited guest to her ball?”

“Dear Catheryn, don’t be absurd,” the countess replied calmly. “Her parties are always such crushes that she could not possibly remember the names of everyone on her invitation list. Don’t bother your head about it.”

Relieved, Catheryn went away with Tiffany to prepare for the evening ahead. As she luxuriated in a perfumed bath, it occurred to her that it would be better to meet Edmund in a social setting where they would be forced to be polite to one another. Then her thoughts turned to Teddy’s predicament. She spent much of the late afternoon pondering ways of turning the rather uncomfortable situation to his favor, but the only thought in her mind when she went downstairs to join the family was the hope that the countess would not place Edmund next to her at dinner.

She need not have worried, for it became clear the instant she entered the drawing room that dinner was not to be a mere family affair. Upwards of twenty people were gathered there, including the entire Stanthorpe ménage, Lord Thomas Colby with the Ladies Prudence and Chastity, and Lady Easton with her husband. There were two strange gentlemen as well. One was a tall, fresh-faced young man with Tom Varling and clearly a friend of his. The other was just as clearly a man of the world. Dressed neatly in black evening dress and boasting none of the fashionable seals or fobs, he was precise to a pin with an air of simple elegance.

Tiffany approached, laughing. “Welcome, Catheryn. Was it not too bad of Mama not to warn us of her party? She says she never realized she had invited so many, just cast an invitation here and there, and here they all are. Luckily, she did remember to tell Paulson each time she added a name, so he and Jean-Pierre at least are prepared. I didn’t even know the Beau was back in town. He has been down at Oatlands with the Duke of York, you know.”

“The Beau?”

“Mr. Brummell. But you’ve not met him yet, have you?”

“No, I’ve not had that pleasure.” She thought she should have realized the identity of the dandy in black sooner. Beau Brummell had certainly been described to her often enough. Someone had once told her his grandfather had been a valet; nevertheless, his background was perfectly respectable, for his father had been private secretary to Lord North, the Tory Prime Minister, and Brummell had attended both Eton and Oxford. She judged him to be a few years older than Dambroke and, despite the tales she had heard, thought he did not look odd at all. His nose had a disdainful tilt to it, but his smile was charming, and he had an aura of breeding that was not outmatched by anyone in the elegant company. Tiffany took her arm and drew her toward the group where everyone was laughing at some remark he had made. When the noise died away, she introduced him.

“Oh, Catheryn,” laughed Maggie, “Mr. Brummell has just been telling us that he went to Berry Brothers this afternoon to be weighed!”

“To be weighed?” She regarded the Beau quizzically. “He must be joking you, Lady Margaret. Even I know Berry Brothers to be a grocers in St. James Street.”

“Ah, but a prince of grocers, Miss Westering,” responded Brummell instantly. “George Berry provides a novelty by weighing us on his great coffee scales!”

“Is this to be your latest fashion, George?” Dambroke inquired with his slow smile.

“Already is. Petersham is a constant customer. Purchases his tea there, you know. Prinny goes, too, but Berry says he actually blushed last time he was weighed and hasn’t been back in a week.” Laughter bubbled up again, and Catheryn saw that Mr. Caston had entered the room. She excused herself to greet him and had time to introduce him to one or two others before Paulson announced dinner.

At the table she found herself between Tom Varling’s father and Lord Thomas, with Edmund across the table between Lady Trevaris and Lady Prudence. Catheryn observed with amusement that, though he was polite to the older woman, his attention was more drawn to the younger. Her own was claimed immediately by Colby.

“I declare, Miss Westering, you will break hearts tonight.”

She had come to like him well enough to tease him and replied with a twinkle, “Not yours, certainly, my lord. My dowry keeps me quite beneath your notice, does it not?”

“Dear me, I seem to have developed quite a reputation.”

“Undeserved, sir?”

“Unfortunately, no. I have cause now to wish it otherwise, however. It may well prove to be my undoing.”

“Good heavens, my lord! Never tell me you have fallen in love!” She gazed at him expectantly, but his only response was a mournful smile. “You have! Who is she?”

But this question he would not answer. Lady Chastity, on his other side, spoke to him a moment later, and he turned away. Regretfully, Catheryn directed her attention to Mr. Varling. She spoke several times more to Lord Thomas, but he adroitly parried any reference to their original topic; so, when Lady Dambroke indicated the time had come to leave the gentlemen to their port, Catheryn was no wiser than before. Dambroke knew his duty. The men soon joined the ladies, and their carriages were called to take them to the ball.

Vehicles lined the street outside Lady Heathcote’s great house, and linkboys scurried to and fro in a desperate effort to clear the way for new arrivals. At last, it was their turn to step down onto the red carpet, and soon they were greeting their hostess, who showed no dismay whatever at the sight of Mr. Caston. Moments later, they entered the great ballroom itself, a dazzling chamber lit by candles from no fewer than twenty-six crystal chandeliers. With nearly everyone who was anyone present, it was indeed a crush, a great compliment to any hostess. Catheryn recognized Lord and Lady Jersey, Lords Petersham and Alvanley, the Prince and Princess Esterhazy, and Lady Caroline Lamb with her long-suffering husband, William. His rival, Lord Bryon, leaned negligently against the wall in a position described by his admirers as a poetic trance and by his critics—mostly male—as a damned rude affectation. Catheryn thought Bryon a romantic figure and had enjoyed his new poem,
Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage,
as much as anyone, but his airs and graces had begun to annoy her.