Jo Beverley - [Malloren 03] (3 page)

Because of her thoughts, Elf stopped herself from glaring, consciously lowered her standards, and smiled. “I am not thirsty, sir, but—”

Amanda pushed between them, snapping in French, “Come, Cousin, we will be late for our appointment!” She seized Elf’s arm and dragged her onward.

Elf permitted it but complained, “How am I to have fun if you won’t even let me
speak
to a gentleman?”

“That gentleman wanted to do more than speak, believe me!”

“Aimée, I might be unmarried, but I’m not stupid. I know what he wants. I know, too, that he cannot force it as long as I remain in the principal walks. In fact, staying in the principal walks promises to be rather dull . . .”

Amanda confronted her. “Elf . . . Lisette . . . oh, whatever! I am no hand at these deceptions! But there I draw the line. We are
not
going into the side walks. Have you not heard the stories of those places? The crudest improprieties. Robbery, rapine—”

“Exaggerations, I’m sure,” retorted Elf, being deliberately perverse. “After all, no place here is far from a public spot. Screams would be heard.”

“But would they be attended to?”

Elf cast an acknowledging look at her friend. Amanda was no fool. It hadn’t occurred to Elf that people might deliberately ignore cries for help, but in this shallow, tinsel-glitter crowd, she could believe it.

“So,” said Amanda, pushing her point, “we stay on the main paths, or we return home.”

Elf huffed out a breath. “You’re no better than my brothers.”

“And despite outward appearances, you’re the same wild tomboy who used to create mayhem when we were children.”

“But of course,” said Elf. “I’m just in disguise as a lady.” She sidestepped a drunken, weaving couple. “But I’m not a child anymore. It would be pleasant to find out who I really am.”

“Ma’am . . .”

Elf assessed the young man trying to introduce himself. Weak-chinned and probably a merchant’s sale clerk. She gave him the Malloren look and he slunk away.

“I’ve said it before, Elf. You need to marry. It can’t be for want of offers.”

“You’ve said it too often. I’ll only marry the perfect man.”

Elf realized they’d lapsed into English, but she didn’t protest. Amanda was clearly uncomfortable in the foreign tongue, and this whole enterprise began to seem foolish.

“Lud!” declared Amanda. “If you’re waiting for a man like your brothers, you’ll rot on the shelf. And trust me, an ordinary man will be a great deal more comfortable.”

Elf stopped to confront her. “Are you saying there’s something wrong with my brothers?”

Amanda raised her hands. “Pax! Of course not. I’ve made up some pretty daydreams about them myself. But they’re strong meat, Elf. When it comes to reality, there’s a lot to be said for a comfortable man by the fireside. Of course,” she added, as they strolled on, “I have wondered what it would be like to have a Malloren in my bed . . .” Then she covered her mouth in alarm.

Elf chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll never tell Stephen.” She saw a booth selling lemonade, and steered toward it. When they had a glass each, she asked, “Which would you choose, Amanda? An exciting bed partner who was a bother the rest of the time? Or a steady, comfortable man who was merely steady and comfortable in bed?”

“If you’re implying that Stephen—”

“I’m implying nothing. So,” she asked wickedly, “which is he?”

Amanda glared at her, but her lips were twitching. “He’s entirely wonderful. The trouble with the man is he’s too rarely at home, and too often tired after long hours at Whitehall. That’s when my mind starts wandering to forbidden fruit. Like Rothgar.”

At that wistful mention of her oldest brother, Elf’s brows rose.

“He’s not exactly handsome,” Amanda mused, “but there is something about him . . .”

“Probably the fact that he doesn’t intend to marry,”
said Elf practically. “The sense of being unattainable is a powerful attractant.”

Amanda chuckled. “True enough! But now, since I’ve told my darkest secret, you should tell me one, too.”

“Darkest secret?” Elf drained the lemonade, which had been thin and much too sweet. Did she even know her own darkest secrets? Aware that trouble lurked in the deeper corners of her mind, she consciously kept them closed off.

“I’ve told you of my restlessness,” she said. “Of my dreams about a dragon slayer.”

“And what exactly is that?”

“A dragon slayer? Oh, he’s Saint George, I suppose . . . No. No, he’s not saintly at all. He’s a dark, dangerous man. A man who would kill to defend me, but who is, of course, no danger to me. Except to my heart . . .”

Amanda made a purring sound of approval.

“Really, Amanda! For a sensible matron, you can be extremely foolish.”

“As a sensible matron, I am allowed to be a little foolish. It’s unmarried ladies who must be impeccable. I still don’t think I’ve heard your darkest secret. Is there not some particular man about whom you think wicked thoughts?”

“Dozens, starting with the miller’s boy when we were young.”

“Oh, yes! Such muscles! We used to hide down by the weir and drool over him . . .”

Elf hoped she’d distracted her friend, but Amanda asked, “And now?”

“Walgrave,” said Elf to get it over with. “I have strange, erotic thoughts about the Earl of Walgrave.”

“Lord Walgrave?” Amanda looked at Elf in mild surprise. “He’s our age, handsome, eligible, and unmarried. I don’t see anything wicked in that.”

“He’s also insufferable and a sworn enemy to my family!” Elf put down her glass. “Come along. Standing leaning against a tree is a complete waste of time and opportunity.” She dragged Amanda back into the stream of revelers. “If we go this way we might at least find a good place from which to view the fireworks.”

Amanda hurried alongside. “But isn’t the earl Chastity’s brother? That makes him your brother-in-law in a way.”

Elf might have known mere movement wouldn’t throw Amanda off the scent. “That hasn’t engendered brotherly love, I assure you. We’re all civil, more or less, for the sake of Cyn and Chastity.”

“Goodness! It’s just like Romeo and Juliet!”

Elf stopped dead, causing a group behind to collide with them. When everything was disentangled, she said, “Romeo and Juliet! You are deranged. He despises me. He likes women pliant and pleasing. And I despise him. He’s a rake who has the nerve to preach propriety to me.”

Amanda tugged Elf over to a bench which a couple was just vacating—vacating to head off down one of the wicked walks, Elf noted. She let her friend pull her down onto the seat, knowing she was about to be interrogated.

She wished she’d held her tongue. She’d thought Walgrave a safe topic. After all, it was true. She did despise
him, even if he had cool blue eyes and an aura of energy that she feared was entirely sexual. He made her nerves tingle, so she sometimes tormented him from the safety of her brothers’ protection.

She thought about him entirely too much, however, and even dreamed of him sometimes. Why, she had no idea. These days, the man never smiled, except cynically, and was bedeviled by a violent temperament.

She was mad.

“Preach propriety?” said Amanda like a prime hunting hound stuck to the scent. “Perhaps he’s just having trouble settling into his role. He used to be a carefree young man—something of a rake, I’ll grant you, but not a vicious one—then suddenly he was the earl. It can’t be easy to step into the shoes of the man called the Incorruptible.”

“He’s trying, though. Trying to be as insufferably pompous as his father.”

Amanda gave her a look. “And failing, I assume. I don’t see you having fantasies about pomposity.” She thought for a moment. “Didn’t the old earl die at Rothgar Abbey?”

“Yes. A seizure.”

That wasn’t true, but it was the tale told the world. The earl had in fact fallen into a fit of madness and tried to kill the king’s mother. Someone had shot him in time. Probably Rothgar. The current Lord Walgrave certainly seemed to blame Rothgar for his father’s death, and seek out any and all means to harm the Mallorens.

It had been hushed up, of course. After all, attempting to kill a member of the royal family was treason, and that would have meant utter ruin for Walgrave’s whole family. The old earl’s title and possessions would have been confiscated and his two sons and two daughters cast out of decent society.

Amanda tapped her lorgnette against her lips. “You must have had a number of occasions to meet the new earl. The wedding. Doubtless other affairs.”

“Few, but too many, I assure you. Amanda, if you are
even thinking of matchmaking, desist. Two less likely partners would be hard to find.”

Amanda did not look discouraged. “Walgrave seems to be handling his responsibilities adequately. Stephen says he’s surprised at the amount of attention the earl is paying to affairs of state and the sensible positions he’s taking in Parliament.”

Elf feigned a yawn. “I’m pleased if it’s so, but do let us talk of something more interesting.”

“Elf! You admitted to having fantasies about him. He is deliciously handsome. Almost as handsome as Bryght.” She stared into the distance and gave a theatrical sigh.

Elf seized the chance to change the subject. “First Rothgar. Now Bryght. Next you’ll be telling me you have heated dreams about Cyn!”

“No,” said Amanda with a laugh. “For some reason, having spent summers in the mud with him catching sticklebacks puts him more in the status of a brother.” She put her arm around Elf. “Perhaps because you are more like a sister, and he is your twin.”

Elf returned the hug, hoping her unwise confidence would be forgotten.

But Amanda did not forget such things. “So,” she said, “why not turn your fantasy into reality? If your brother can marry Walgrave’s sister without the sky falling in, you could marry him.”

Elf pulled free. “You have maggots in your head. I told you. We dislike one another thoroughly, and he seems determined on finding a way to destroy Rothgar. There’d be no comfort by the fireside in such a marriage.”

Amanda grinned. “But think of the bed!”

Elf leaped to her feet. “You are a wicked woman. But no, I can imagine no comfort in the bed either in the midst of such hate.”

Amanda sighed as she rose to join her. “You are doubtless right. It is a shame, though. He’s the right
type
for you.”

“Mad?” Elf flicked her skirts back into line. “Oh, let’s head back to the boats. If we’re going to share girlish secrets all night, we might as well do it at home in comfort.”

Amanda didn’t protest. “Have I spoiled this for you, Elf?”

“No.” Elf linked arms with her friend. “It was just foolishness. I’ll have to think of a more sensible way to change my life.”

Retracing their steps meant fighting the flow, for most of the crowd were pushing toward the place where fireworks would soon be set off. At first, Elf thought the obstacle came from the pressure of the crowd, but then an arm slid around her waist, pressing her into a musty woolen uniform. She looked up and recognized the much-braided captain.

“Monsieur!”

“Still alone, pretty poppy?”

“Je ne comprends pas.”

He switched into clumsy but adequate French. “If your party has lost you, I’d be happy to be escort in their place.”

“I suspect you plan to be a boarding party, sir, rather than an escort.” She pulled against his hold, but made no impression on his mass and strength.

He laughed and squeezed her, squeezed a bit too hard so that she worried he might absentmindedly crush her ribs. But then the hint of danger sparked in her spirit like the first flashing lights from the fireworks.

She smiled at him.

“El . . . Lisette!” hissed Amanda, pulling at Elf’s cloak.

“Hush, Cousin. Can you not see that the gentleman and I are talking?”

The captain grinned, showing large teeth that seemed healthy and whole, even if his lips were rather thick and red. “What a shame I came without a friend, Mademoiselle Lisette. Then your companion would not be so distressed, I’ll go odds.”

Elf decided to play her part and assumed a simper. “You are doubtless correct, Captain. But as you see, she is attached to me in all ways.”

The captain turned and pulled Amanda within the compass of his other strong arm. “I’m a big man,” he declared with a deep, resonant laugh. “I can handle both of you, have no fear!”

“I am sure you can, sir,” Elf purred, rather enjoying the play-acting. She stroked his hairy hand. “I do so like a big man.”

Amanda’s dark eyes were flashing urgent messages from behind her mask, but Elf just smiled. They were both armed. They could handle even such a big man as this if they needed to, and this was an adventure of sorts.

She didn’t want to go home without the tiniest adventure.

The captain steered them through the crowd, ably making a path and protecting them from the crush. He kept an arm about each, but most of his attention was on Elf. She didn’t find the situation unbearable, for he had some conversation and talked pleasantly enough of the gardens, the weather, and his recent posting in Holland.

Then, without warning, he squeezed Elf close and kissed her.

Though she swayed back and twisted her head, his lips found their target. Hot onion breath swamped her and she struggled angrily against his hold.

Alarmingly, to no effect.

She had never before been in a strong man’s power, and found she didn’t like it at all.

Her struggles had forced him to release Amanda. To Elf’s horror, she saw her friend pulling out her dagger. Struggling harder, she tried to warn the captain of the disastrous attack, but his wet lips sealed hers. In fact, he was working hard at forcing her mouth open to get his tongue inside.

Gemini, but Amanda would end up in the Roundhouse for murder, and the scandal would be appalling!

With a bellow, the captain jerked back, freeing Elf’s mouth. Clearly, Amanda had struck.

“Aimée, non!”
Elf cried, seeing her friend’s hand raised again.

People nearby had paused to stare at the angry captain and the two women. Before someone decided to interfere, Elf flung herself back into his arms, snapping,
“Aimée, arrêet!”

Amanda slid the knife away looking exasperated, but also shaken by her own action.

“It is only that she is jealous, monsieur,” said Elf soothingly, switching into heavily accented English and touching the slash in his jacket sleeve. “Are you hurt most terribly?”

The captain stood taller. “A mere fleabite. But I could have the law on the woman for cutting my coat!”

He pulled out a handkerchief, and she helped him tie it tight around his arm to stop the bleeding. Elf couldn’t help but admire his disregard of a wound that must have gone in at least an inch.

“Be merciful,
Capitaine.
She is so easily excited, you see.”

He grinned and pulled Amanda back to his side. “Now that sounds promising, and may earn you a pardon, my pretty vixen.” He turned back to Elf. “What about you, little poppy? Are you easily excited too?”

Elf realized that now she had to humor him until the nearby crowd lost interest and they could escape. Suppressing a sigh, she snuggled close. “I do not know, monsieur. I am not very experienced at these things.”

A mighty chuckle shook him. “I’m just the man to expand your experience, my pretty. Oh, yes, I’ll expand you well, I promise.”

Amanda pinched Elf and whispered, “Have a care!”

Elf ignored her and smiled up at the man. “It seems you will have to expand the experience of us both,
Capitaine.
”

His big dark eyes were hot, and he licked his moist
lips. “I could handle a dozen and still need more, my lovely.”

“El . . . Lisette!” Amanda hissed. “He’s leading us into the Druid’s Walk!”

Elf wished Amanda would show faith in her common sense. Of course she knew the captain was taking them into one of the poorly lit paths. How could they break free in the middle of the crowd? When they were in a quiet shady location, she’d befuddle the lustful idiot until they could escape.

Bantering risqué words, she let him lead them farther and farther from the bright lights, into the realm of shadows and secrets. Finally, when a bend concealed them from the South Walk entirely, she eased away from the officer, pretending to study him in admiration. “
Mon dieu, Capitaine,
but you are a fine figure of a man,” she crooned. “You must be the most tall man in your regiment.”

He let her go entirely and flexed his muscles. “One of them, aye, and the strongest. And,” he added, patting his bulging crotch, “built everywhere in proportion.” He moved to pull Elf back into his arms, but she evaded him and went to inspect him from the back.

“Such wide shoulders. A Hercules among men!
Bien sûr,
you can carry a cannon, single-handed.”

“Pretty close, pretty close.” He turned to face her, but she moved to stay always behind, leading him to turn in circles. “Hey, my beauty, stay still so I can admire you, too!”

“There will be time for that. Plenty of time.
Maintenant,
I want to admire your so wonderful physique . . .” She kept him turning for a few more moments, then, judging her moment, said, “You should kiss my cousin,
Capitaine,
or she will turn jealous again.”

She’d succeeded in dizzying him, so when he turned back to Amanda, he misstepped. Elf pushed him as hard as she could, then grabbed Amanda’s hand to run back to the lights.

But he was more massive than she’d thought, and only
staggered under her thrust. Amanda faltered for a second before reacting and was snatched out of Elf’s grasp.

Elf stopped, poised to return to the rescue, but Amanda ripped free, ending up on the other side of the captain, closest to the crowded South Walk. “Run!” she screamed and set off herself for the well-lit area.

With a laugh of pure excitement, Elf picked up her skirts and fled down the deserted Druid’s Walk, hearing the captain bellow behind her.

Lanterns were deliberately scanty here and the paths twisted and divided. Elf passed an entwined couple on a bench, and some thrashing bushes that she didn’t care to contemplate.

After a few moments she paused, breathing heavily. Devil take it. Her years of being a perfect lady had sapped her strength!

Then she heard pounding feet. She’d not lost him yet.

She plunged between dark bushes into the shrubbery that lined the paths, struggling her way through as quietly as she could. She heard silk rip and feared for Amanda’s lovely domino. At least she didn’t need to fear for Amanda unless her friend ventured back into the walks to help.

Dense growth and deep shadows formed a frightening otherworld, but she came across occasional open spaces. Whether natural or contrived, they had a purpose. She almost tripped over a couple
in flagrante delicto.

Her instinctive apology was answered by an abstracted curse from the heaving gentleman. With difficulty, she suppressed a fit of the giggles and hurried on.

Once out of earshot of that encounter she paused to listen.

In the distance, fireworks crackled and banged. Closer, her rejected lover was still bellowing her name. But now other voices chimed in, telling him to shut up and go away. Faith, but the bushes must be alive with lovers!

The captain, however, had clearly lost track of her. Her plan had worked.

Then he became silent and she started to worry again.