The Rogue's Reluctant Rose (6 page)

“Oh, no, my dear Susan. It’s quite all right. He is a friend of Papa’s, you know, because his father used to be.”

“He is very handsome, to be sure,” observed Evangeline Sullivan.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice cut in, and Araminta looked up at Sir Timothy, who had fixed his eyes on Araminta. “I wonder if I might steal Miss Barrington from you for a while.”

“Certainly, Sir Timothy,” said Evangeline, smiling demurely at him.

Once more taking the baronet’s elbow, Araminta let him lead her out of the crowded room and into a small conservatory, lit with candles and full of Lady Huston’s prized hothouse flowers. A few other people had opted to take a break from the dancing and the crowd and enjoy the greenery.

“Miss Barrington,” began Sir Timothy quietly, as she took a seat on an ornate bench. Araminta felt her stomach clench in anticipation at the slightly nervous look on his face. She knew just what he was about to ask her.

“Miss Barrington, I imagine you are wondering why I have led you out here, when, no doubt, you would much rather be dancing. Though I assure you, I have good reason — ” He did not finish what he was about to say, because at that moment a voice cut in.

“Miss Barrington! There you are.”

Araminta looked up into Jasper Devereaux’s unreadable grey eyes and felt her breath catch. She had been so close. What did he want with her? Chestleton caught the flash of irritation across her face and smirked.

“Hallo, Stanton,” he greeted lightly. “I hope I am not interrupting anything important? But you see, the young lady here is something of an acquaintance of mine, and she promised me a dance quite a while back, though I fear she has forgotten. Very understandable, of course, Miss Barrington, in all the excitement. You would not begrudge a dance to an old family friend, would you, Stanton?”

Araminta’s startled eyes met his challenging ones and her jaw clenched. She was outraged and furious, and she could tell that Chestleton was playing some sort of game, though she did not understand the rules.

“I would not, Chestleton.” The baronet did not falter in his gracious reply, though he looked uncertainly at Araminta, giving her a questioning look. Araminta wondered what to do. She was certain Sir Timothy had been about to propose marriage to her, though she knew now that the moment was ruined. She knew she ought to deny any knowledge of such a promise and send Chestleton away. And yet, she thought as her heart pounded in her ears, the look in his eyes told her he was up to something, and perhaps she was better off knowing what that was.

“Yes,” she finally said, though somewhat reluctantly, before smiling apologetically at the baronet. “Yes, I fear that Lord Chestleton is correct. I had forgotten. Please, excuse me, Sir Timothy.”

“Not at all, Miss Barrington. I shall see you after your dance. Chestleton.” With a nod at the other man and a soft smile at Minta, the baronet left to re-join the party.

Araminta waited for Sir Timothy to be out of hearing range before turning her ire on the amused marquis.

“I can’t imagine what you think you’re doing, Lord Chestleton. I do not owe you any dance. Whatever will Sir Timothy think now?” she hissed furiously, glaring daggers at the tall lord.

Chestleton chuckled, privately admiring the sparkle anger lent to her eyes and the pink flush on her cheeks as she railed at him. “I wouldn’t worry about that, my dear. I am only claiming a dance with a pretty young woman — you are certainly a diamond of the first water, Miss Barrington, if you’ll permit me to say so. But you look quite flustered. Did I interrupt something important after all? An offer of marriage, perhaps? Ah, but then I arrived just in time to save poor Stanton from himself, didn’t I?”

“I beg your pardon?” Araminta could feel her anger grow, but through the haze of fury, she felt the slightest prickling of dread.

“Ah, look, the dance is starting,
my dear.
We had better join the line, else your beloved Sir Timothy might think all is not as it should be.” He offered her his arm in a gesture that she felt to be a mockery of Sir Timothy’s good manners. She accepted with a strained smile.

“Of course,
my lord
.” Her voice dripped sarcasm, Chestleton noted with pleasure as he led her out.

Araminta waited for the dance to start before she spoke again, careful to keep her voice low enough not to be overheard by the other dancers.

“What exactly did you mean about rescuing Sir Timothy?” she hissed at him, eyes still aflame.

“Nothing much, my pet. Merely that I think you were about to promise to marry our dear baronet under false pretences. Sir Timothy is quite the catch, you know. Handsome, well bread,
wealthy
. Very convenient when you, my dear, don’t have a ha’penny to your name.”

Araminta’s blood ran cold at his words, and her stomach plummeted. Years of dancing instruction kept her moving automatically, and even so she nearly missed a step, as she stared up at him, eyes wide and startled. Chestleton was clearly enjoying the moment.

“I say, Miss Barrington, you look quite peaked. Are you unwell?” he asked loudly enough for the other dancers to hear. She did not reply.

“You don’t know that! You
can’t
know that.” she managed at last.

“Ah, but I do. That’s quite a situation you find yourself in, my rose,” Chestleton drawled in his cultured voice, though his handsome face did not show much in the way of sympathy. His eyes glittered at her darkly.

“It’s very fortunate that word of your regrettable circumstance has not yet spread among the
ton
,” he continued. Araminta looked at him with a dawning, and unpleasant, sense of understanding. “Take your Sir Timothy, for example. How do you think he’d feel, knowing that he was about to marry himself to a woman of no fortune at all? A woman who had knowingly withheld this fact from him?”

“You wouldn’t,” Araminta gasped in outrage, forgetting to keep her voice down in her ire, and drawing a few startled looks from the other dancers. “You wouldn’t.” she repeated in a lower voice.

“Ah, but I would, my dear lady. You
must
know that I would.”

“What do you want from me?” she demanded without thinking, and then blushed at her unfortunate phrasing as his burning gaze swept over her slender form appreciatively. He looked as if he were savouring a fine chocolate. Araminta shivered despite herself at his unhurried scrutiny, and felt a strange tingling begin in her stomach.

“That is a good question, my dear. But one I am not inclined to answer just at the present moment. Not to worry, though. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

The music finished, and Araminta found her mouth dry at his words. Chestleton unceremoniously led her off the dance floor.

“Perhaps you had better have a seat, Miss Barrington. You’re looking somewhat pale.”

With that, he gave her a brisk bow, and left her. Araminta found that he was beginning to make a habit of doing that, and it was not a habit she appreciated. Her head was spinning at his sudden revelation, and she tried furiously to think. Though her aunt and uncle joined her soon, she found she had little attention to give their conversation. Araminta felt a mixture of disbelief and panic. A part of her still insisted that Chestleton must be bluffing, that he could not possibly know or have any proof of her situation. Of course, proof was never a prerequisite for gossip, she knew. She did not like the feeling of her future and those of the rest of her family hanging on the mercy of a man who could by all accounts be as ruthless as he was shameless. She knew that his whim was a fickle thing. She felt angry at him for placing her in such a situation, and angry at herself for allowing him to throw her into such turmoil.

She also struggled to fight back the fear of what exactly he would want of her. Chestleton was known as a man of hedonism, to whom morals and propriety meant nothing. She could only imagine the sort of wicked request he might make of her. She felt a stab of fury. She would not be any man’s plaything. She would not be another Violet Grey. And yet, she did not know what she would do, if forced to choose between her own virtue and reputation, and her family’s future. Her panic grew, and she found she was struggling to breathe.

“Araminta, my dear?” Her uncle’s concerned voice broke through her haze of panic just as her vision became blurred. “You look unwell, and you have not responded to your aunt’s question. My dear, can you hear me?”

Araminta attempted to focus on his words, to reply, but all she could think of was her future slipping away from her, and a sensation of being trapped overwhelmed her. Her vision darkened, and her beautiful face paled further, before she suddenly fainted in her chair.

The last thing she heard before unconsciousness descended was Sir Timothy’s voice near-by. “Lord Worthing? Miss Barrington?”

***

Araminta did not know how long she had been unconscious for, but when she came to, she found herself surrounded by concerned onlookers. Her Aunt Worthing was holding a blue cut-glass bottle of vinaigrette under her nose. Evangeline was fanning her with a beautiful fan of painted silk. Her head was pillowed on a cushion, and Sir Timothy knelt next to her, gently holding her gloved hand.

“Miss Barrington!” the young baronet gasped when he saw her eyes flutter open delicately. “She has woken up.”

“Please, give my niece some air,” Lady Worthing asked of the crowd, who drew back a little as the woman helped Araminta sit up.

“How are you, my dear?” Evangeline asked softly.

“Much better, thank you,” Araminta replied quietly, embarrassed at having made such a spectacle of herself. She was not given to fainting spells and dramatics. “I am sorry to have disrupted everyone’s enjoyment.”

“My dear girl, not at all!” cried Sir Timothy, as her uncle repeated the sentiment. “It must be all the excitement of tonight. And perhaps the heat, which I myself find quite unbearable. Ladies have delicate dispositions, and it is no wonder you fainted away. I am certain you are not the only one to feel lightheaded.”

“I am sure that is so, Sir Timothy”, Aunt Worthing agreed, as Araminta sat carefully in the chair from which she had just fallen. “Tell me, my dear, did you hit your head? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Oh, no, Aunt.” Araminta was very touched by her aunt’s concern. “I shall be well in a moment.”

“Perhaps a drink of water, and then I think it is best that we head off home. It is past midnight already,” said Lord Worthing. Araminta objected, not wishing to spoil the night for the Worthings, but they were quite decided on going home.

Sir Timothy was most attentive to her, handing her into the carriage personally, and expressing a desire to see her again soon. Lady Huston had come over to enquire after her, and offer her a bottle of her own smelling salts for the road, which Araminta politely refused, explaining that she had some in her reticule.

“I say, Araminta, it is a shame that you should be leaving us in one day. And for an entire week!” exclaimed Lady Worthing. “Especially since you have made such progress with Sir Timothy. And you have won Lady Huston’s favour, I am certain.”

“But, my pet, what are Sir Timothy and Lady Huston to our Araminta?” Lord Worthing said to his wife, a teasing note in his voice and a smile upon his distinguished face. On the way home from Lady Huston’s house, Araminta longed to lose herself in the scenery outside the windows of her uncle’s carriage, but it was too dark to see anything but vague shapes and faint outlines.

“You jest, Andrew, I know, but really you mustn’t tease us so,” his wife scolded warmly. “You know as well as I that your niece has captured the distinguished baronet’s eye. And what a match they will be. Sir Timothy has yet to come into all his property, you know. And he has such manners! And such a handsome countenance.”

“I am sure, Mama, that my cousin is well aware of all Sir Timothy’s charms. Perhaps it was at the thought of her good fortune, that she fell into a swoon tonight.” Susan had joined in the teasing and Araminta felt herself flush at the mention of her swoon. She felt it had been a ridiculous thing to have happened to her.

“But Susan, your cousin had just been dancing with the Marquis of Chestleton before she fainted. My girl, was he improper or tiresome in any way?”

“No, uncle, he was not improper. Though he was certainly tiresome: a most exasperating, rude man. I do not know why he possesses such popularity in society. I do not know why my brother considered him a friend,” railed Araminta, feeling that the dark nobleman was entirely to blame for the embarrassment of the night. Realising that she could not fully explain the situation to her aunt, uncle or cousin, she softened her voice, though her eyes still sparkled with ire. “But odious though he is, he is not to blame. I fear that Sir Timothy was correct. Perhaps I simply had too much excitement for one night.”

“Then it is a good thing you got the excitement over with tonight, Minta, for I am sure Sir Timothy will make you an offer soon, and it would not do at all to faint when he does,” laughed Susan, squeezing Araminta’s hand good-naturedly.

***

The next morning found Araminta in Regent’s Park. She had woken up a little past sunrise and had been unable to return to sleep. At Kitty’s suggestion she decided to take an early walk in the park. Susan and the rest of the family had yet to awaken, and so Kitty was to accompany her charge on her stroll.

Araminta’s mood had inclined her towards dark colours, but Kitty would not hear of it, and had persuaded her into a beautiful walking gown of pale lemon, with gauze over satin and a pale blue riband under the bosom. She wore a straw poke bonnet, covered in silk that perfectly matched the dress. The bonnet was finished with pale yellow ribbons and she carried a white parasol.

When Araminta was dressed, Kitty admired her handiwork proudly, fussing over the girl like a mother hen. The former nurse had lost her own husband early and she had never remarried or had children, and so she thought of Minta as her own daughter.

The park was almost empty so early in the morning, and the weather was pleasantly clear as they took a turn down one of the park’s many walks, enjoying the early morning birdsong and the greenery. Watching the rosiness return to the young lady’s cheeks, Kitty felt certain that the walk would do both her mood and her constitution a lot of good. Kitty would not have the girl grow wan and sickly under her charge.