Page 18 of Dallying with the Diamond
“Sythe is not here, nor is he my barrister. Now, you are certain the door to the minstrels’ gallery above the Earl of Malcom’s ballroom still locks? It has been a while since I—”
“Tupped his sister there in the middle of a Twelfth Night ball? Yes, it locks.” He pulled a brass key from his waistcoat pocket.
Leo snatched the key from his friend’s hand and tucked it into his own waistcoat, a blue and gold embroidered creation he rather liked, much to his surprise. “You are a genius.”
“And you are a madman if you think you will manage to shag Lady Honoria in the middle of a ball where her father, her betrothed, and half of London is in attendance and escape unscathed. You shouldn’t worry about the damned door. You should worry about which window you will leap from when you are discovered.” The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Earl of Malcolm’s Mayfair mansion. CB and Leo left the carriage and ascended the steps lit by large flickering torches. They filtered into the foyer with the crowd of guests, made their bows to the host and hostess, and finally arrived at the top of the stairs that led down into the spacious ballroom.
“I don’t intend to shag her tonight, CB. Do try to keep up.” He started down the stairs without being announced with his friend spluttering behind him.
Leo spotted Honoria at once and started through the crush of dancers to where she held court. CB grabbed his elbow and dragged him to a table that held several punch bowls and various offerings of delicacies. He handed Leo a glass of punch and a little plate onto which he loaded some lobster patties, several types of biscuits, and two little cakes.
“Do youwantto draw attention to your liaison with the lady? Without this little blackmail bargain between you she would not even be speaking to you, especially not in front of the entireton.”
“You don’t know her,” Leo said. He took a savage bite of one of the lobster patties as he watched the Duke of Bitworth place his hand on Honoria’s back.
“Neither do you,” CB said quietly. “Except in the biblical sense.”
Leo glared at him and slowly strolled to where she and her group of friends stood laughing and talking. He stood with his back to them, but close enough to hear their conversation.
“Any man who marries our dear Lady Honoria,” someone said. “Will have to have an entire wing for her library. I have never seen a lady with so many books on such a wide variety of subjects.”
“Once she is married,” the Duke of Bitworth said. “She will likely be far too busy entertaining to read. Wouldn’t you say so, Lady Honoria?”
“As you say, Your Grace. Elizabeth, how was your cousin, Julia, when you visited her this morning?” Honoria’s voice was brittle and cold, nothing like that of the warm woman who praised an old black tomcat.
“She is better. I will tell her you asked after her. She is so inordinately fond of you, you know.”
“She should have retired to the country by now,” an older lady who clung to Bitworth’s arm like a debt collector said. “She has only been a widow a year. Not nearly long enough to mourn a husband like Mr. Seaforth.”
“Indeed,” Bitworth said. “Your kindness to her is appreciated, my dear, but she really isn’t your sort of people now is she?”
Leo had never wanted to slap a man as violently as he did the Duke of Bitworth. Then again, he wanted to shake Honoria. These were the people she intended to spend the rest of her life with? Perhaps CB was right. Perhaps he didn’t know her at all.
Somehow CB had managed to maneuver himself into position on the other side of Honoria’s group. The lady Honoria had called Elizabeth saw him and smiled.
“Mr. Carrington-Bowles, how nice to see you. I believe you know everyone here.”
“Indeed, I do, Miss Elizabeth. I believe this is our dance, Lady Honoria.” CB bowed and offered Honoria his hand.
“I have been looking forward to it all evening, sir,” she said as she allowed him to lead her away from the nest of vipers that served as her court. She didn’t look at Leo. She didn’t have to as CB had very specific instructions as to how to get the lady to the minstrels’ gallery. Leo gulped his punch, finished off the morsels on his plate, and strolled to the inset door in the wall under the ballroom staircase. On a small table at the foot of the stairs, two branches of candles sat next to a single lit candle. He lit the two branches and snuffed the single candle.
Slowly and carefully, he climbed the stone steps and made his way to the hidden door into the gallery, which he used his purloined key to open. The curtains had been drawn so the alcove could not be seen from the ballroom floor. He took candles from the branches and settled them into the sconces on one end of the small alcove. He found a comfortable chair and angled it into the corner that faced the door so that the chair was lit by the candlelight. He removed his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. He took off his gloves and stuffed them into the jacket pocket. The music floated up from the ballroom and filled Leo with envy that he was not the one dancing with Honoria.
He was well aware that with a few more encounters like this one he would have all of his journal pages back and she likely would be on her way to being married to a man who had no idea who she was or what she wanted. Leo had no business even thinking about her other than as a temporary lover. Her choices with him and everything about her told him she would do as she wished with her life. If it was her wish to marry Bitworth and to become one of those frozen-smiled mavens of society, so be it.
So be it.
The door latch clicked. Leo started, but quickly sat in the chair. He untied his neckcloth and unwound it to remove it from his neck. Honoria stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind her.
“Turn the key,” he said. She did so and came to stand over him.
“Well, Captain Atherton, what can you have in mind?” She caressed his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair.
“A simple game, Lady Honoria. Do you like games?”
“That depends upon the game.”
“You will like this game, I think.” He handed her his neckcloth and pulled an identical neckcloth from the pocket in the tail of his evening jacket. “Use these to tie me to this chair.” He placed his arms along the arms of the chair. He was surprised at how quickly she complied and how tightly she was able to tie him. At the odd sort of flip of his stomach he had a momentary doubt. Or two.