My Lady Mischief (16 page)

"Exactly so, my love." Aunt Prunella sighed. "Can you not perceive the difference?"

"You mean attraction rather than love?"

"I am not certain those are the words I would have chosen, but yes, that is what I mean." She looked her in the eye. "But, tell me, do you not feel any similar affection for him?"

"I hadn't thought so. You see, for years I simply knew I was in love with Charles Fossbinder." Thea rubbed her index finger against the grain of the velvet upholstered chair. "Through his recent actions toward Emma, I now know I was in love with a dream. I looked for kindness, I found kindness. I looked for patience and generosity and that is what I found. But it was all an illusion, an illusion of my own making. How can I ever again be certain of my own heart?"

"I believe you will know." Lady Prunella's smile was radiant as she added, "When I received a kiss from the right man, I knew it."

Fascinated, Thea asked, "Had you ever experienced any kisses from the wrong man, Aunt?"

"Too many, my dear. But that does not concern us now. Allow me a day or two to think. We'll see what I can come up with. You may depend on me to think of something."

How relieved Thea felt. She hadn't realized how much she missed having a mother with whom she could share her thoughts and from whom she could receive advice. "Very well."

It had helped to discuss her problem. Yet, she did not feel quite comfortable with the idea of relying on her aunt. It was not in her nature to totally rely on anyone. After all, could she not find a way to interpret her own heart?

*

Upon Hart's arrival at the inn, the innkeeper greeted the blue-faced nobleman with jovial familiarity. Hart soon found himself ensconced in that gentleman's finest guest room and promptly fell asleep amid crisp white sheets.

Stark sunlight, dappling his face, awoke him the next morning. Tenderly stretching exhausted muscles, he carefully sat up. He saw that his mud-stained garments of the night before had been carefully laundered and left folded over the fireplace fender to dry. A man's dressing robe lay upon a chair.

He bravely donned the robe that evidently belonged to his host, for it was many inches too small. A round-faced serving maid knocked as she entered the room with a pitcher of warm water. His host was most conscientious. The maid left with promises of returning with a large breakfast.

Hart performed his ablutions and had just completed the task when the maid returned. He sat and poured himself a cup of tea. The delicious aroma permeated his senses and extended a sense of warmth and well-being.

He had been a fool. He should never have left London, should never have left Thea in the hands of that coxcomb. Hart didn't care to admit it, but he loved her. A restoring night's sleep made it clear to him she loved him as well. She was simply too stubborn to admit it.

It was not too late to return and rectify matters. She might have accepted an offer from that jumped-up turnip but there were still banns to be posted, wedding plans to be made. It was not too late. If necessary, he would kidnap her.

Perhaps he wasn't as clearheaded as he'd thought.

*

A day later, Hart wasn't in much better spirits. He found himself seated in his dining room with Mack amid the clutter of earlier bacchanals.

"For heaven's sake, Hart. Haven't you moped enough?" asked Mack. The other guests had long since departed and he watched Hart through worried eyes. He'd never before seen his friend in such a grim mood, a mood Hart hadn't thrown off since returning to town. If only the man would talk about whatever was bothering him.

"I suppose you're right." Hart twirled the empty snifter between his fingers, his gaze concentrating on the tiny drop of fluid remaining in the bottom.

"This was supposed to be a party celebrating Emma's acceptance of my offer, you know." Mack glared at him. "Snap out of it, man! Aren't things prospering between you and Lady Althea?"

Hart's lips tightened and he swallowed before answering. "I ran into Fossbinder a few days back and he as much as told me that they are betrothed."

"Nonsense, Hart. I myself was present when she sent him to the rightabout. Emma, too. The fellow acted like the complete cad and I was relieved to see that those two young women finally recognized him for what he is: an unfeeling scoundrel."

Hart sat as still as the night. He no longer listened to his friend. Instead his heart sang joyous tidings and the chorus blocked all other sound.

Yes, he'd made an utter nodcock of himself. But, at least all was not lost. He could still convince Thea of their mutual love. Suddenly, anything was possible.

Early the next morning, Hart sent a note to Thea, requesting she accompany him for a carriage drive that afternoon. He had missed seeing the minx. Perhaps she felt the same way and would reconsider his proposal.

Upon receipt of the note, Thea turned to her aunt for advice.

"I think you should go, my dear. For the more time spent in his company, the more clear your heart should become."

"Very well. I shall send my acceptance." But, she thought, the dastard had some explanations to make.

When he arrived that afternoon, Hart was dressed as impeccably as usual. For all his experience, courtship of a woman was an area in which he lacked competence. There was too much at stake. Why had he ever allowed her to creep into his heart?

Thea was attired in her favorite green pelisse, set off perfectly by a chip-straw bonnet with feathers dyed to match. The set of her lips, however, did not auger well for the afternoon's enjoyment.

"Have you come to gloat, my lord?"

"Gloat?" He had no idea what she was talking about.

"Well, since all the latest
on dits
about town concern your tiring of me so quickly, I felt sure that was your purpose."

"I am pleased to hear that you missed me, Thea. I do apologize for my prolonged absence." Hart hesitated before adding, "I missed you, too."

She didn't answer.

Hart's heart pounded. He wasn't quite sure how to approach the subject of the lack of privacy they would have on their ride. She'd most likely think her proposed curricle companion had been brought along as a calculated insult.

No young society miss would approve of him. However, Thea was quite unlike any other girl, though entitled as any to her position within the
ton.
If only they could talk, he felt certain matters could be suitably resolved. If he could explain the current situation. "I have unexpectedly hired," he cleared his throat, "well, I hired a new groom."

"How lovely for you." She looked at him as if his wits had gone begging and, for a moment, Hart wondered if she was correct.

"I mean, he's in my curricle and, well, you might not care for his appearance."

"Oh, is that all? You should know that would not put me off, Hart. I would like to get this drive over with. Shall we go? And you may introduce me to your new retainer." Thea nodded pertly as she took his arm and led him to the outer door.

Hartingfield swallowed. She could always refuse.

Phelps opened the door and bowed discreetly as they approached. The staid butler straightened abruptly and his eyes widened in astonishment as they lit upon the scene in the street. Lord Hartingfield's first-class racing curricle and gorgeous matching chestnuts were being held by a scrawny, bedraggled street waif.

Thea, too, saw the boy and turned to Hart with a delighted grin. "My lord, your new retainer?"

Hart smiled in relief. He should have known she would not fail him, but there was one more test to come.

"Henry," he called as he led Thea to the horses' heads. "Lady Althea, I would like you to meet Henry," he tried to continue but the child rudely interrupted.

" 'Enry, Gov'ner, 'Enry. I've tried an' tried to tell you me name is 'Enry. You know, after the King!"

"My apologies, 'Enry. Thea, I am pleased to present 'Enry to you." Grinning wickedly, he studied Thea's expression. It was one of utter amusement.

Hart helped her climb up. Then he turned to Henry. The boy glanced uncertainly from him to the curricle seat, next to the tiger perch behind, and then back to Hart.

"Still unsure about the height, 'Enry? Well, take up your previous position and I'll let you try driving my rig.

Henry gave a beautiful gap-toothed grin. "Thank 'e, Gov! It's 'onored I be, Gov!" He slithered up into the curricle.

When the odd threesome were settled, Henry sat between Hart and Thea. Hart conscientiously checked for traffic then handed the reins to the boy, being careful to show him the correct method for holding his fingers.

The boy was a natural and although Hart sat tense beside him, ready to take over if the need arose, Thea settled down to enjoy the ride. After a few blissful moments, he handed the reins back to Hart and then wriggled back onto the curricle seat.

Crinkling his nose, Henry commented to Thea, "You smells just like a lady ought ter, mum."

"Thank you, 'Enry."

"There's only one smell I likes on ladies better." Henry nodded his head.

"What is that?" asked Thea.

"Fish. I just loves the smell o' fish."

Having received a proper setdown, she laughed delightedly. Hart, too, threw his head back in amusement.

The boy looked up at them reproachfully before he continued, "That's 'ow me mum smelled afor she passed to 'er just reward."

Thea sobered instantly. "Have you any family, 'Enry?"

"No, mum. I kin take care o' meself."

"Well, 'Enry," replied Hart, "I hope that you will not regret your agreement to work for me, for I am sure you will make a fine groom."

Again, Henry gave his gap-toothed smile. The lad could not have been older than six or seven years and Thea's heart went out to him.

"How did you come to employ such a valuable groom, my lord?" Thea asked over the top of Henry's head, which only reached her shoulder. The boy avidly watched the sights of London as they tooled through its busy streets.

"The rapscallion jumped into the middle of the road, directly in the path of my horses. Then, just as I thought we'd drive straight into him, 'Enry vented an unusual whistle. My horses stopped dead in their tracks and allowed him to pet their noses. It was a most bewildering moment but I knew that 'Enry had found his calling. I will personally supervise his training."

"A most wise decision, Hart." Thea was proud of him. He had shown great generosity and kindness of spirit in taking up the obviously unloved and poorly fed youngster.

Several moments later he murmured, "Thank you, Thea."

"Why, whatever for?"

"For understanding." Hartingfield was smiling but completely serious.

Thea answered him with a "Pish." She turned to admire the courageous, although filthy, boy who had survived on the mean streets of London. "Do you like animals, 'Enry?"

"Yes, mum. I sleeps in a stable not too far from 'ere and sometimes they lets me feed their cattle. That's 'ow I learnt me whistle."

"Tell me, 'Enry." Thea grinned widely. "How do you feel about pigs?"

Chapter Thirteen
 

A mood of comfortable silence filled the sitting room. The only sounds emanated from the gentle fire crackling in the hearth and the soft breathing of the two young women, seated side by side. Thea sat placing stitches in a sampler while Emma popped sweets in her mouth as she idly looked over the latest fashions in
La Belle Assemblee.

Disrupting the quiet, Emma turned over another fashion plate, covertly watching her friend through hooded eyes, then blurted out the subject that had been on her mind, "Admit it, Thea. You have grown quite fond of Lord Hartingfield."

Disconcerted, Thea stabbed herself with the needle. She mumbled while sucking her finger, "I am not certain 'fond' is the correct word. My attitude is more one of armed truce than fondness."

"I disagree with you there. Didn't you tell me how fine and generous a man Lord Hartingfield is revealing himself to be?"

"Yes." Thea went back to her sewing. If she was honest with her friend, she would admit to a growing
tendre.
But it was a far cry from that greater emotion, true love. "It would appear that you and Aunt Prunella have similar opinions."

Discarding the sampler, she faced her companion. "She suggested that I am not fast, merely in love with him. Do you think she is correct?"

"It seems possible." When Thea said nothing, Emma demanded impatiently, "Well, are you?"

"After the fiasco with Charles, how can I ever be certain about my sentiments toward any man? I can no longer trust my instinct, since my imagination is apt to provide whatever a gentleman may be lacking."

"I think you are being too hard on yourself."

"Perhaps. Aunt Prunella assured me that I would know my feelings when I kissed the right man. But she also said she had kissed many wrong men. I, however, haven't kissed anyone but Hart. So how can I compare?" Thea's voice became a whisper. "I only know that when he kisses me, I turn into an unresisting idiot who melts at the warmth of his touch."

"Maybe you should try kissing someone else then."

Thea gave Emma a penetrating look.

"Don't even think of it! I was making a jest!" Emma jumped from the settee.

"If only there were someone with whom I could safely test my feelings."

"Is there no one on our list for whom you might feel some affection?"

Thea thought for a moment then shook her head. The most suitable gentlemen were either far more interested in their hunters than her or else appeared to be self-satisfied wretches. There was little choice between the two lots.

"In that case, you might as well kiss the first man who asks you to dance at the ball tonight," replied Emma. She gasped at her words, evidently regretting them.

However, Thea didn't react rashly, as she would have in the past. She'd learned to think before reacting. "I shall simply have to learn some other way."

*

A thousand twinkling candles illuminated the cavernous ballroom within Lady Prunella's home. A majestic orchestra played softly in accompaniment to the sounds of arriving guests. Large bouquets of flowers stood in urns and vases, sending a pleasant floral scent wafting through the household. The family stood at the entrance of the ballroom, a few marble steps above the main room, welcoming their guests. Just behind them, an impressively garbed footman bellowed out the titles and names of the latest arrivals.