The Maiden At Midnight (17 page)

Millie grinned. ‘Ho, then! A secret.’

‘Exactly that,’ Isabella said firmly, ‘so no
talking about it. Agreed?’

‘Not a word.’ Millie said immediately, while
Audrey nodded reluctantly. She was far more circumspect than either
of her sisters but she did not want to be left out.

‘Should you change?’ She glanced at her
sister’s dress, an old cream and yellow-stripped cambric that had
seen better days.

‘For his lordship? Trust me, it is not my
dress, nor my person, that interests him at the moment.’

The earl was wandering about the green
parlor but paused when the three sisters entered the room. He
looked startled to see so many Hathaways but bowed gallantly to
each of them. ‘Hello!’

‘My chaperones,’ Isabella explained, ‘Good
morning, my lord.’

‘You should call me Joss, you know. All my
friends call me Joss.’

Isabella was momentarily taken aback. It was
most unusual for a young lady to call a gentleman by his first
name, unless they knew them very well indeed. But that was just
Stornley. He did not pay the slightest attention to social
conventions. Not because he did not care, but because they simply
passed him by. It was probably the reason he had put in such an
unusually early appearance for a morning call more frequently took
place in the afternoon.

‘Joss, then. At least in private.’ She
smiled at him. ‘I think you have met both my sisters? Audrey and
Millicent?’ Both girls curtsied gravely and he grinned at them.

‘Aye. At the park the other day.’

‘What happened to your face?’ Millie
demanded. ‘It’s all bruised. Where you in a mill?’

‘I was indeed. My face ran into some very
large fists,’ he told her ruefully, touching the dark discoloration
on the skin, which had mottled in places to an interesting greenish
hue. ‘Nothing to worry about.’

Isabella suspected that whatever had
happened to the earl’s face would not make a suitable story for a
fourteen year olds delicate ears. ‘Have a seat, won’t you?’ she
said hastily. ‘Would you care for some tea?’

‘Not at all. I just suffered through three
pots of it. One more cup and I might just float away.’ Joss waited
until all three had sat down, then did so himself. ‘Actually, I
have just come from my cousin, Lady Bromely and she has agreed to
host a party on Thursday night. Would that suit?’

‘But that is only three days hence. Is that
enough time to organize such an event?’

‘Oh don’t you worry about that. Celia
delights in doing the impossible. She said all you have to do is
turn up. You can leave the mustering to Harry and me.’

He was referring, of course, to assembling
the likely candidates for her hand. It seemed like a lot to ask,
gathering seven young gentlemen in the one place on such short
notice. ‘Do you think you can do it?’

‘Of course. I shall tell them that Celia is
running loo tables. They’ll turn up in droves.’

‘Well, that is excellent news.’ She knew,
from the look on both her sister’s faces, that there would be
questions the moment they were alone together and hastily changed
the subject. ‘I thought that things went very well last night. With
Miss Piedmont.’

Joss’s leaned forward,
suddenly all eagerness. ‘Did it not? I
do
think she likes me.’

‘I know she does. It would be wise, don’t
you think, to pay a call on her this afternoon?’

‘I intend to, although it is far from
pleasant, having her aunt sitting with us.’ Joss observed ruefully.
‘I cannot think why she dislikes me so.’

‘Your reputation?’ Isabella enquired
delicately.

‘A great many men have a reputation. It is
expected one should, at my age. No,’ his lordship shook his head,
‘there seems more to it but I have decided to pay her no heed. It
is not Elise Fortnum that will choose Miss Piedmont’s husband,
after all.’

‘Very true. And there is no
doubt in my mind that Alora cares for you. She made it perfectly
plain last night. You stood up together
three
times.’ A girl had to like a
gentleman, to have made her preferences so plain.

His lordship grinned, clearly delighted. ‘I
cannot tell you how much I appreciate your assistance in this, Miss
Hathaway.’

‘Oh please,’ she murmured, ‘call me
Isabella. At least in private.’

After that, the conversation went on to
generalities. After fifteen minutes, Joss rose to go but he paused
as a thought hit him.

‘Harry said that your ex-fiancé turned up
last night?’

Isabella flushed. She had been doing an
excellent job of forgetting about that and yet here it was again,
thrust unceremoniously in her face. She would have to get used to
it, she supposed. It was likely to become a subject of gossip for
some days to come.

‘He did.’

‘Didn’t know you had one but I consider it a
bad show. Just let Harry or me know if you need us to take care of
the fellow, all right?’

‘Take care of him?’ Millie asked, wide-eyed.
‘Why? What would you do?’

‘Punch him in the nose, most likely,’ Joss
replied cheerfully. ‘Sounds like a complete pip.’

Audrey smiled at the earl
with considerable approval. ‘What a
lovely
idea. Could you punch him very
hard, do you think?’

‘Audrey!’ Isabella touched her sister’s arm
to remonstrate although, for the first time, she felt a little like
laughing. It was unlike her gentle sister to be so blood thirsty.
‘People cannot go around punching other people in the nose just
because they happen to have… to have -’

‘Behaved like a beast?’ Audrey demanded.

‘Exactly right,’ Joss agreed. ‘Man needs to
be taught some manners. Harry felt inclined to punch him last
night.’

Did he now. What a curious man Harry
Carstairs was, Isabella reflected. She was surprised by his
attitude. Why should he care, after all? ‘The situation is all very
unpleasant but nothing that we cannot deal with, I assure you.’

‘Hmm,’ Joss did not look convinced but he
went off anyway, no doubt to prepare for his call on Miss
Piedmont.

Alone again, Audrey looked at Isabella. ‘An
event on Thursday night?’

‘Lady Bromely is his lordship’s cousin,’
Isabella said vaguely. ‘I believe she intends to hold a… a small
soiree.’

‘Why should that matter?’ Millie demanded,
equally curious although a great deal less suspicious than
Audrey.

‘Because there will be quite a few eligible
gentlemen there,’ Isabella said bluntly. ‘And if there is one thing
that interests me particularly at the moment, it is gentlemen who
are eligible.’

‘I don’t know what Mama would say,’ Audrey
muttered.

‘She would heartily approve,’ Isabella
returned firmly, ‘as well you know!’

And they retired upstairs to change before
luncheon was served.

Harry Carstairs came home late that night
and drunk into the bargain. He drifted to a stop a hundred yards or
so from his front door and regarded the large figure in a greatcoat
that was lurking in the shadows beneath a tree opposite. He eyed
the figure thoughtfully. Not a great deal could be seen but it was
a sizeable figure and one, he was almost sure, that he had
encountered just recently.

‘Oh ho,’ Harry murmured,
‘so
that’s
the way
the land lies, is it?’

Gallows Jack had deduced that, as his quarry
was stubbornly staying away from home, he must be domiciled
elsewhere. Harry wondered if the man was investigating all of
Joss’s friends or just his best one.

Standing quite still, he tried to take stock
of the situation.

He was three sheets to the
wind, thanks to making serious inroads into White’s excellent
brandy. The cold evening air had cleared his head a little but not
so much that the effects were negated entirely. He had made a good
showing against the chap the other day, it was true, but he
suspected he might not display to advantage if he tackled him now
and he did not know if he wanted to wear
two
black eyes.

It was a damned nuisance, all this looking
over ones shoulder. The sooner they sorted out Joss’s financial
affairs, the happier everyone would be. It was getting so a fellow
couldn’t go out and about any more.

‘Oh damn it!’ he said, rather irritably and
marched forward. Caution was all well and good but he wanted to
know what the fellow thought he was about, standing there like
that.

Hearing footsteps approaching, the figure
turned and peered at Harry.

‘Well come on then!’ Harry said irritably.
‘Come out and show your face.’

The mountainous figure emerged slowly and
for a long moment they regarded each other. Surprisingly, since the
man was easily four inches taller and perhaps one hundred pounds
heavier than Harry, the man looked uneasy. Harry had the
satisfaction of seeing that he had thrown a few telling blows
himself for the gentleman’s nose was still swollen and one eye was
almost shut.

‘Is ‘e in there?’

‘Is who in there?’

‘Your friend. ‘is lordship. Gallows Jack
wants a word.’

‘Gallows Jack is just going to have to be
patient. He’ll get his money, if not now then in a few weeks time.’
Or a few months, although it seemed prudent not to elaborate on
time frames right now.

‘Jack, ‘e ain’t the most patient man, see?
He don’t like waiting.’

‘It’s good for the soul, or so I’m told. Go
and tell him. Stornley is even now working on a way of coming into
the necessary funds.’

For a long moment the man just stood there.
Then, to Harry’s surprise, he turned and lumbered slowly away in
the opposite direction.

‘Sink me!’ he muttered,
shaking his head. ‘I never thought he’d actually
go
.’

He let himself into the house and found Joss
in the library. It had quickly become his guests favorite room in
the house. Tonight the earl was sitting in a high backed leather
chair, a glass of Madeira beside him. He looked up when Harry
walked into the room and raised an eyebrow.

‘There you are. Where did you get to
tonight?’

‘Markham’s, then Greyfriars then
White’s.’

Joss cocked an eyebrow. ‘It seems that you
had a good time?’

‘I’m jug bitten, if that’s what you mean,’
Harry admitted. ‘But a better man because of it, I daresay. We had
a lurker outside. One of the fellows from the other day.’

Joss frowned. ‘One of Jack’s men?’

‘The very same. I sent him off but I daresay
he’ll be back. You need to come by some funds, Joss.’

‘I’m working on it.’

‘How goes the romance?’

The earl shook his head mournfully. ‘She
remained at home tonight. I did not get to see her.’

‘There is always tomorrow night.’

‘Very true. Are you all right Harry? I feel
I’ve thrown you square in the middle of things, having Jack on my
tail. Now, it seems, he is having his people camp outside your
house.’

Harry shook his head. It wasn’t Gallows Jack
that was throwing him into a blue megrim. He wasn’t sure what it
was, actually, except that it had something to do with Isabella
Hathaway. She had been chasing around inside his head for days, so
much so that he had taken pains not to accompany Joss on his
romantic trysting. The most irksome thing was that he found he
wanted to accompany him in the hope of meeting Isabella and
exchanging words. Spirited, lively words but at least their
conversations kept him thinking.

‘You know you can count on
me in all things.’ He resisted the almost overwhelming urge to ask
if he had seen Isabella. It did not
matter
if he had seen Isabella, damn
it. The sooner the girl was leg shackled to some young fool, the
better for then he could think about something other than dark blue
eyes and a mouth that just begged to be soundly and thoroughly
kissed.

As if divining the substance of his
thoughts, Joss spoke again. ‘I went and saw Miss Hathaway today.
We’re all set for Thursday. We just need to round up our fellows. I
gave their names to Celia. She’ll make sure they’re all
invited.’

‘Good,’ Harry nodded. ‘That’s good. She was…
she was all right? After that nonsense with Proctor?’

‘She seemed to be perfectly composed about
it. Top girl, that. Plenty of pluck. I keep meaning to ask about
her brother but, what with one thing and another it just goes out
of my head.’ Joss rose to his feet and stretched. ‘Well, I’m off to
bed.’

Harry gave his friend a crooked smile.
‘Damned if you’re not acting the old married man already. It’s only
gone two. Stay and have a drink with me.’

‘I don’t really fancy anything more. Time to
turn in, I think.’

Harry hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.
‘Sleep well, then.’

He watched his friend leave the room,
wanting to protest that his friend was growing tedious as he grew
older, that only a month ago they would have rolled up to bed with
the dawn after a night of carousing. But he found he didn’t have
the heart to.

Joss was heading into unfamiliar territory,
determined to marry and settle down.

And where, exactly, did that leave
Harry?

When Stornley marries you won’t be about to
run around as you have, getting up to the usual things men like you
get up to.

Isabella’s words, when she had accused him
of being jealous of his friend’s relationship with Miss Piedmont.
Harry grimaced and rose – unsteadily – to his feet. The last thing
he needed right now was Miss Hathaway’s voice inside his head.
Better to retire himself and let sleep chase her away.

Although even sleep, lately, had been
letting him down.

Even his dreams were no longer free of the
irritating presence of Miss Isabella Hathaway.