The Poor Relation (13 page)

“Oh, yes.” 
Camden smiled in spite of the old broad’s blunt manner.  He could well picture Miss Woodforde’s mortification were she made privy to any part of this conversation.  And he recognized Lady Milbanke’s intent was not to coerce him or make him feel obligated in any way.  She was looking out for her niece’s welfare, plain and simple.   He could hardly fault her for that.

“Let me reassure you, Lady Milbanke, there’s no need for any concern.  We are good friends, your niece and I.”

“Oh.”  She sounded extremely disappointed.  “Well, in that case, you might as well take me back to Morley and Edwina Reaves.”

Doing as she bid, he deposited the bosky baroness on the settee with her cronies, then joined his host who was in intense discussion with Lord
Howard over the merits of a horse the Marquis planned to run at Newmarket.

After a while, w
hen Lord Howard collected his wife to retire, Camden watched Chloe move to a chair next to the settee where Lady Milbanke and Lady Edwina Reaves sat with Sir Albert who was entertaining the women with the latest
on-dits
. 

While
Camden sincerely hoped Judith would take the hint and give him a respite of her company, he covertly kept a close eye on Miss Woodforde, steadfastly staying on the opposite side of the room.  Still he found that the young woman’s mere presence had the most profound effect on his equanimity, making the evening seem interminably long.

***  Chapter 11  ***

By the end of the evening, Chloe
also shared much the same complaint before she was finally able to deliver Lady Sophia over to Hannah’s solicitous care.  When she asked for Lady Caro’s leash, the abigail tartly informed her that the little dog had already been taken out by a footman, then scolded Chloe for wandering around the estate late at night.

“Hasn’t been that many days passed, Missy, that you was laid up in bed and all because of that little beast.  Besides, I hear tell from the servants that there’s been some big stranger prowling about these parts at night.”  Sounding more like a mother hen than a lady’s maid, Hannah concluded, “No, Miss Chloe, you just march yourself straight to bed.”

For once being compliant, Chloe changed her gown for her nightrail and brushed out her hair.  But she was restless and dawdled about the room, straightening the top of the vanity, rearranging the porcelain figurines and vases on the mantle.  At last, she crawled into bed and tried to immerse herself in a book of sermons left on the bedside table.  This proved fruitless, and after a while she gave up and tossed the boring tome to the foot of the bed in disgust.  Determined to find something to read that would at least hold her interest, she decided to visit the library and so slipped out of bed, grabbed her wrapper, and headed for the door.

Moonlight from a huge window over the stairway lit the
corridor, enough to allow Chloe to make her way downstairs without a taper.  Once on the ground floor, the hall was much darker.  She didn’t dally but made straight for the library. 

She was well acquainted with the oak paneled room with shelves of books rising from floor to ceiling on three walls and found the tinder box to light a branch of candles.  Reading the gold lettering on the book spines, she located several rows of Gothic novels and romances and was soon engrossed in the selection of a title. 

At last, settling on a Minerva Press old favorite, Mrs. Eliza Parsons’s
The Mysterious Warning
, she blew out the tapers and noiselessly slipped through the door and headed for the stairs.  Reaching the bottom riser, she heard the whisper of male voices coming from the upper floor.  There was the soft click of a door closing, and someone started down the stairs.

Then
déjà vu
, a hand came from behind and covered her mouth as an arm of steel circled her waist, picking her up off the floor to draw her back against a large muscular body.  Before she could gather her wits or put up a struggle, the Viscount barely breathed in her ear, “Easy, Chloe. Don’t make a sound.”

He carried her backwards to a small alcove underneath the stairway where he freed her waist and gently turned her so that she face
d him.  In her mind, it registered that an exceptionally heady tread was descending the stairs, but her attention was diverted by Camden as he took the book from her and tucked it behind his back.  Then he covered her mouth with his lips and drew her into an embrace.

Still, fearing discovery,
out of the corner of her eye, she caught a very large, sinister figure walking past their hiding place.  She tried to pull away, but the Viscount tightened his hold on her.  After this, she offered no more resistance as his kisses worked their magic on her senses, and she relaxed in the security of his arms, bringing her own around his massive chest.

Her actions seemed to encourage him, for his insistent tongue forced its way between her lips, penetrating her defenses.  She leaned into him while one hand stroked his back, feeling the hard ripple of muscles through his jacket.  She was conscious of only him, the world around her having ceased to exist, and wanted only to fulfill the insatiable desire to have more of him.

When a small groan escaped her, Camden slowly released his hold on her, even as she continued to cling to him.  As she became aware of his withdrawal, she quickly removed her hands from his person, brought them up in front of her, and was surprised when he put Mrs. Eliza Parsons’s novel in her hand.  Focusing her eyes on it, she desperately tried to compose herself, tried to get her roiling emotions under control.

“Chloe,” he whispered. 

Not knowing what to say, she remained silent. She felt his hand caress her chin, then drop to her shoulder.

“
You’re playing with fire, my dear,” he practically growled. “Go to bed.” He turned her about and gave her a gentle shove out into the hall.

With laden feet,
Chloe retraced the steps back to her room.  Moments later, propped up in bed, she stared at the title,
The Mysterious Warning
, laying on her lap and almost laughed at the irony of the title and Camden’s warning.  But she quickly sobered as she gazed into the shadowy corners of the room where the light from the small candelabra on the bedstand failed to reach.  If word ever leaked out about her behavior with the dratted man while visiting at the Court, her reputation would be in shreds.  Yet, she’d be loathed to give up one single moment spent in his company. 

He remained an enigma to her, cold and even cruel one m
inute, the next tender and loving.  And she was drawn to him just like a moth, playing about the flames of a taper, her wings already singed by his heat.  What must he think of her?  Tonight she’d behaved shamelessly, not only accepting his kisses but holding him, caressing his back.

Chloe let out a small groan. 
She was a fool to accept his advances, knowing him to be a dangerous rake, and a bigger fool to ignore the malevolent dangers that gravitated to and swirled around him.  Such a self-destructive course would only doom her for pain and misery.

It was a very long time before she snuffed out the candles and even longer before she fell into a troubled sleep.

~~~~~ 

After a restless night, Chloe woke feeling drained and listless.  As the day dragged on, her flagging spirits were far from improved. 
The Marchioness had scheduled dinner earlier than usual to allow for a musical evening completely arranged by Lady Sarah.  A number of young people from the neighborhood had also been included, and everyone was looking forward to the change of pace.  However, with no entertainment planned until the evening, the guests were left to their own devices.

After taking some time to explore the woods while walking Lady Caro, Chloe diddled a good part of the
day away reading to the baroness.  In the afternoon, she met Lady Sarah and together they strolled sedately through the gardens.  Lady Sarah used the time to persuade Chloe to lend her voice to the evening’s entertainment.

Throughout the day, Chloe
hoped to see the Viscount yet dreaded the encounter, fretting over how he would receive her.  She needn’t have worried for she did not lay eyes upon Camden all day. Still, she allotted extra time to dressing in an apricot silk with lace trimmings.  Hannah pulled up her hair, then pulled curls to frame her face.  Having had him on her mind all day, Chloe knew she looked her best and was at last ready to greet his midnight blue eyes.

She spotted Camden the moment he sauntered into the back salon where everyone was gathering for dinner since the drawing room was being arranged to accommodate the mini concert. He
was dressed in sartorial splendor.  His black evening clothes set off the embroidered white satin waistcoat and impeccably tied cravat with the square-cut emerald stick pin.  Though his eyes sought her the moment he entered, his expression was unreadable.  Chloe still felt confused after the previous night’s encounter and decided to greet his cold reception by turning her back to him.  Besides, it was too painful to watch him dance attendance on the beautiful Mrs. Palmer who materialized almost instantly by his side.

To further tax her composure, dinner became an ordeal with Monsieur Guyot as her partner.  As was his wont, he persisted in quizzing her.  This time, he asked about the life she shared with Lady Milbanke when in London, who they knew and where they went.  He seemed particularly interested in her relationship with
Lord and Lady Howard and feigned amazement when Chloe related that she have been unacquainted with Lady Howard until the house party.

“
Mais
, how is it that you are, er, how you say . . . close?” he persisted.

“I could hardly describe our relationship as close, sir,” replied Chloe, beginning to lose patience with the prying toad.  “Lady Howard is a gracious woman who has extended her friendship to me while
here at the Court.  She has been kind enough to promise my aunt and me invitations to one of her dinners.”

“
How nice for you, Mademoiselle Woodforde,” he said, finally letting the subject drop.  But Chloe could tell from his tone that he was far from convinced that she spoke the truth.

After dinner, guests from the neighborhood began to arrive.  Most were young girls of Lady Sarah’s age
with their parents and several young bucks.  Having little inclination to mingle with the gay younger set, Chloe took sanctuary in the company of her aunt and Sir Albert once the performance got under way.  All in all, the talent displayed by the vocalists was respectable if not the highest caliber, and Chloe was amused, even impressed by their animation where ability was lacking.

When it came time for her performance, she managed to maintain an outward calm
and faced away from where the Viscount sat with the ever clinging Mrs. Palmer.  Chloe’s voice rang clear and true, and though gratified by the applause, she declined to sing another song.

She had returned to her seat, only to be mortified by the accolades of her tipsy aunt.

“Lovely, my dear, truly lovely.  Was it not, Morley?”  Before Sir Albert could agree, the baroness’s voice again carried across the room clear as a bell.  “Except for Lady Sarah’s, but of course, the gel should sing like a bird with all the blunt Clairmont’s laid out for a trainer.  Still and all, you sang most divinely, my dear.”

Unruffled and with an indulgent smile, the Marchioness soon rose and announced an intermission for everyone to partake of an elaborate repast set out in the dining room.  When Sir Albert offered to escort Lady Sophia and herself, Chloe begged off, opting for a little solitude instead of the small feast that
included lobster patties, paper thin slices of ham, an assortment of pastries, rafata and champagne.

Ducking out a side door that led onto a small terrace off the drawing room, Chloe wrapped her arms about her to ward off the cool night air.  She was reluctant to retrieve her shawl and possibly chance becoming engaged in conversation with one of the guests.  So to block out the chilly dampness, she concentrated on peering about the shadowy garden.  Despite the scudding clouds intermittently obscuring a bright moon, her eyes picked o
ut movement between the row of tall yews where a huge dark mass seemed to separate, then come together again.  Curiosity getting the better of her, she followed a low stone balustrade that ran along the perimeter of the porch until finding steps leading down to the ground level.

From this vantage point,
she saw two figures interlocked, doing a crazy dance, going back and forth among the bushes.  Her first thought was that she’d stumbled upon a lovers’ tryst.  But there seemed to be a violent intensity to the couple’s ardor as well as their apparent indifference to the damp chill that was fast creeping into her bones.

The music started up again, and Chloe
decided to go inside when the cavorting pair disappeared behind a hedge.  Then came the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh, followed by grunts from the unfortunate recipient who suffered the viscous blows.  She hesitated, vacillating between staying where she was or going back inside to get someone to come and investigate. 

Then more grunts and groans accompanied a series of fast and furious punches.  Someone was receiving a dreadful pummeling, and heedless of any danger to herself, she lifted her skirts
to go down the stairs and ran swiftly to the hedges where she came to an abrupt halt.