Read A Little Mischief Online

Authors: Amelia Grey

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Historical, #Man-Woman Relationships, #London (England), #London (England) - Social Life and Customs - 19th Century, #Historial Fiction, #Regency, #Man-Woman Relationships - England - 19th Century, #Love Stories

A Little Mischief (10 page)

Daniel shook off those feelings. Enough of Miss Winslowe. He had to go find Throckmorten. Daniel wanted to make sure the scoundrel never approached Gretchen again.

Six

“He was so charming when I was presented to him,” Joanne Langley told the gathering of young ladies who stood around her in the retiring room. “Lord Colebrooke looked into my eyes and smiled at me with such delight in his face. I thought I was going to melt into the floor like spring snow.”

“I was the first lady he asked to dance,” Alice Eldridge said with a satisfied smile spreading her generous lips wide. “And I simply felt faint with heat when he looked at me.”

“I felt the same way when he danced with me,” Lady Katherine Spearmont announced as she fluttered her fan under her pointy chin. “He indicated he is going to ask to call on me later in the week.”

“How did he indicate that?” Lady Lynette Knightington asked with more than a little interest in the earl.

“Yes, I want to hear this, too,” Alice said. “Maybe he indicated he was going to call on me.”

Isabella turned away from the young ladies’ discussion. They were chatting and laughing about events of the evening as well as the dashing Earl of Colebrooke. From the sighs and mewling it appeared he’d stolen all their hearts with a few smiles and three or four dances.

What rubbish, she thought. It was clear to her that none of the ladies had seen the side of Lord Colebrooke that Isabella had seen. She was tempted to tell them he was the most arrogant man she’d ever had the misfortune to meet but decided they would think her insane.

She didn’t know why she’d accepted the dance with Mr. Bradford Turnbury. She really didn’t like the man. He always smelled of liquor. But when he’d asked her to dance in front of Lord Colebrooke, something unexplainable had come over her. She’d had this maddening feeling that she wanted to make the earl jealous. Where that had come from she had no idea. The very thought of it was ludicrous.

Lord Colebrooke had repeatedly let her know he had nothing but disdain for her. He couldn’t care less who she talked to or with whom she danced. She had to get over this peculiar infatuation she had developed for him. It was disturbing her peace of mind and making her behave in the oddest manner.

And to make matters worse, now she had the headache. Too many perplexing things had happened today. Thinking Mr. Throckmorten was dead was bad enough, but then she was scorned unmercifully by Lord Colebrooke and later to see Mr. Throckmorten looking well-turned-out and charming as ever was just too much. She passed by the man not half an hour ago, and he smiled at her as if he’d never been found dead cold in her garden.

There was nothing to do now but go home and lie down. Tomorrow would be better. Yes, she would find Auntie Pith and make her excuses. They would go home and put an end to this most unusual day.

Isabella interrupted the ladies and said her good-byes. She lowered her forehead to her hand and rubbed it as she walked out the door. Not watching where she was going, she immediately bumped into someone. She looked up and found herself staring straight into the golden brown eyes of Lord Colebrooke.

“Oh, excuse me,” she said, feeling that odd fluttering sensation in her stomach again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Another bad habit, Miss Winslowe?” he asked.

She was not up to matching wits with him but neither could she let his rude comment pass without answer. She lifted her chin and her shoulders a notch and answered, “I’m just full of them, my lord, and no doubt you will see each one.”

His eyes narrowed and he spoke slowly and low. “I’m ready for anything you have.”

Isabella couldn’t believe she’d said such an outlandish thing. What was she doing issuing a challenge to the most popular earl in London? This was no way to become as well-respected in Town as her aunt. She should learn to curb her tongue when this man was around.

She had all intentions of walking away without further comment, but as she made to brush past him, he touched her upper arm and stopped her. Even through the thickness of her evening gloves, Isabella felt as if a red hot heat had pierced her skin.

Isabella looked up into his eyes again, and something tangible passed between them. It made her tremble, but she didn’t know what it was. The surprise she saw in his eyes let her know that he had felt it, too, and was just as shaken.

Lord Colebrooke dropped his arm to his side and cleared his throat before saying, “Excuse me, Miss Winslowe, but before you go, could you tell me if my sister is in there?” He pointed to the room that had been set aside for the ladies to have privacy and rest.

In order to break the spell of staring into the mesmerizing depths of his eyes, she looked away from him and to the room she’d just vacated.

She felt the need to clear her throat, too. “No,” she answered. “Gretchen isn’t in there.”

Concern flashed across the earl’s face.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. I’m sure not. I’m ready to go to another party, but I can’t find Gretchen. I’ve looked the house over.” His brows drew closer together. “Are you sure she isn’t inside?”

Isabella watched him closely, feeling his distress. “I’m quite sure. Must I insist again that I would not lie to you regarding your sister or anything else?”

His brow softened a little. “All right, I’m sure I’ve just missed her. I’m worried about her after the afternoon’s events.”

A chill splintered through Isabella, and she didn’t like where her thoughts were heading. Gretchen had admitted to her that she’d arranged the meeting with Mr. Throckmorten in her garden. The man was in attendance this evening. Could it be possible that Gretchen had planned another secret rendezvous even after what had happened this afternoon in the garden?

Isabella didn’t want to alarm Lord Colebrooke, but she had to ask, “As you looked for Gretchen, did you by chance see Mr. Throckmorten in any of the rooms?”

His worry faded into an angry scowl, and Isabella was sure she’d voiced what he’d been thinking.

“No, I’ve been looking for him all evening and I keep missing him.”

“Well, then,” Isabella said, taking charge, “perhaps we should take a walk outside and tour the gardens to see whom we may find.”

She felt him tense more as he said, “What are you suggesting, Miss Winslowe?”

“I think you know what I’m saying, sir. Now, do you want to find Gretchen or do you want to pretend there is no way she would defy you and the rules of convention and take an unapproved walk with a gentleman?”

“I’m capable of looking in the garden. I don’t need your help.”

“But if she is indeed there, Gretchen might need the comfort of a lady when you find her. I’m going with or without your permission.”

“Very well, but don’t offer any comment. This really isn’t any of your concern.”

“I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”

Lord Colebrooke chuckled and Isabella felt her spirits lift. It was a beautiful sound that settled around her and made her feel wonderful all over. For a brief moment, in laughter, his face was completely free of concern and disdain, and she glimpsed the man all the young ladies had lost their hearts to. He was so magnificent she was left breathless.

Isabella was as captivated by him as the young ladies she’d just left.

“Come along, Miss Winslowe,” he said. “We’ve no time to waste.”

Side by side they worked their way through the crowded rooms toward the French windows that led to the back gardens. Their progress was delayed. Lord Colebrooke was stopped by a duchess, an earl, and three pushy mamas all wanting to make introductions. They finally stepped through the patio doors and outside.

Isabella saw the evening was heavy with a smoky gray mist. Several people were outside talking and laughing, while others milled around the abundant grounds of the house. The Earl of Gleningwold’s house was famous for its gardens with its great walls of yew. His great-grandfather had purposefully made the house small so that he would have more area to plant his trees, shrubs, and flowers.

The grounds were noted for their nooks, crannies, and arbors that led into rooms of lush greenery. There were two lily ponds and a two-tiered fountain on the premises and three well-manicured knot gardens. It was a spectacular place to visit during the day, but on an evening like this the high yews and shrubs made it all appear ominous.

It was the perfect garden for a couple to wander the grounds and find a spot to hide so they could steal a few kisses. And tonight’s low-lying mist added an extra unexpected cover.

Isabella stopped at the top of the limestone steps and asked, “Should we part and you take one side and I the other?”

Lord Colebrooke shook his head as he carefully looked at the other couples who were outside. “No. I think the best way to handle this is for you and me to appear as though we are strolling through the gardens conversing.”

She held back a smile that threatened her lips and said, “Oh, you mean you want us to walk around and talk as if we approve of each other?”

A half grin lifted one corner of his mouth. “That would be a stretch, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it would, but for Gretchen, I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

Isabella let the cool air of night fill her lungs as she lifted the hem of her gown and started down the steps. Daniel stayed by her side on the crushed stone pathway that led into the center of the grounds.

“This is the perfect night for anyone who wanted to have an assignation in a garden,” Lord Colebrooke said.

“It’s impossible to see more than a few feet in front of us. Let’s hope we don’t find Gretchen out here.”

“I can assure you that
is
my hope, Miss Winslowe. After our discussion this afternoon, I can’t believe she would agree to meet anyone in the garden—especially Throckmorten.”

The grass that had grown in between the footstones was moist, and it wasn’t long before Isabella felt the wetness seep through her soft-soled shoes. The damp mist soon penetrated her thin gown, chilling her to the bone, but she would have rather gotten consumption than complain to the earl. Any other gentleman would have been aware of the chilly night and offered her his coat.

“Is there any chance she went home early with your aunt?” Isabella asked.

“No. Aunt Mattie didn’t come when she found out that I would be escorting Gretchen. She’s been out with Gretchen every night for a week and was relieved to have an evening at home.”

They had wandered far enough away that they no longer heard the laughter and talking of the people on the patio, and they had lost all light from the house, too. Isabella could barely see Lord Colebrooke even though he was walking very close to her.

Just past one of the lily ponds they came to a fork in the garden. Isabella said, “You take the east and I’ll take the west.”

“I don’t think so, Miss Winslowe. We will stay together.”

“But we can cover so much more of the gardens looking separate.”

“Yes, but what if I were to find Gretchen and you were still wandering out here somewhere in the dark? No, we stay together. We can walk much faster now that we are away from the house.”

“All right. Let’s continue.”

They headed down the right side of the path and walked among the laurel hedges. Occasionally a wet limb would brush across Isabella’s face. The dampness had penetrated the layers of the thin clothing she wore and she was cold and wet.

After several minutes of searching she was ready to call a halt to their pursuit when she noticed a vine-covered arbor near the back gate. She approached it and peeked inside. At first she didn’t see anything. Mist wafted across the small area of garden but when she started to turn away the fog shifted and she saw the form of a woman standing alone.

“Lord Colebrooke, over here. I think I’ve found Gretchen.”

He came up behind Isabella, and she felt his warm breath on her neck and it comforted her.

“It is Gretchen,” he said, looking through the drifting mist. “What the devil is she doing out here alone?”

“I have no idea, but I’d say it a good thing that she isn’t with anyone.”

“I agree.”

Their feet crushed on the loose stone as they left the pathway and ducked underneath the vine-tangled arbor. When they drew nearer, Isabella saw it was indeed Gretchen. At first Gretchen didn’t acknowledge them but continued to look at the ground.

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold shook Isabella.

“Gretchen, what are you doing out here?” Lord Colebrooke asked as they approached.

Isabella stopped just short of Gretchen and turned to the earl and said, “Sweet, heavenly mercies. Look at her feet.”

Daniel then saw what Isabella and Gretchen were looking at: the body of a man prone before them.

For a moment the silence lay as heavy as the mist.

“Damnation,” Daniel cursed and quickly bent down to examine the man.

Even before Daniel rolled the man over to look at his face, Isabella knew it was Mr. Throckmorten. The gray fog made it difficult to see, but there was no mistaking the presence of a gold-handled paper knife protruding from his chest.

Other books

Bleeding Heart by Liza Gyllenhaal
Missoula by Jon Krakauer
The Goodbye Summer by Patricia Gaffney
Gentlemen & Players by Joanne Harris
A Swollen Red Sun by McBride, Matthew
The Mullah's Storm by Young, Tom
The Weight of Honor by Morgan Rice


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024