Page 5 of Enamored with the Bluestocking (Romances of Intrigue #4)
“I can hardly believe she demanded such a thing of me.”
Muttering into his glass of whiskey, Matthew took a sip and then another, his brow furrowing. He did not want to have his thoughts captured by Lady Sarah but he could not seem to stop himself from thinking of her. The visit he had endured the previous day had been more than a little frustrating, for he had expected simply to call, make certain that all was well and that the lady was improving, before returning home.
That had not happened. Instead, he had found himself not only insulted but also blackmailed, threatened with the ruination of his character if he did not do as Lady Sarah asked. It was ridiculous, it was foolish and to Matthew’s mind, it was most displeasing.
But what if they do as they have said? What if the ton hears them speak badly of me?
The one thing that Matthew reveled in, the one thing that he clung to was his reputation. He was not known as a scoundrel, had not even the smallest hint of roguishness about him and yet, he enjoyed both the company and the admiration of the many young ladies around him. If there was any hint of a disliked character about him, then that admiration might fade and then what would he do?
“You are scowling again.”
Matthew grimaced as Lord Rutherford appeared beside him, coming around to sit opposite Matthew, gesturing to the footman for another drink for them both.
“I am permitted to scowl, as I am sure you are aware. Besides,” he continued, waving his glass around vaguely, “given that ladies are not permitted in Whites, I hardly think that there is any reason for me to be concerned about my facial expression.”
“I suppose that is true,” Lord Rutherford agreed, grinning broadly which, for whatever reason, irritated Matthew a great deal. “You were not at Lord Bellington’s ball last evening, however. That has concerned me for you were speaking warmly about the prospect only very recently.”
Matthew shrugged. “I was not in the right frame.”
“Why not?” When Matthew sighed, Lord Rutherford’s grin only grew wider. “You know that I will only keep asking until you tell me the truth. I am annoyingly insistent in that way.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Which you well know. So… ?”
With another sigh – which Lord Rutherford ignored completely – Matthew shared briefly what had happened when he had called upon Lady Sarah. “And so,” he finished, “I am left with their blackmail hanging upon me! Either I do as she asks and commit myself to her mysterious questions and the like for a time, or she will speak ill of me to all of London and then where shall I be?”
Lord Rutherford took the glass from the footman’s tray and then shrugged. “It does not sound to me as though she is to blackmail you.”
“But that is what she has said!”
“No, she said that she would speak to those who asked truthfully about not only what happened but of your behaviour thereafter.” Lord Rutherford tilted his head, his eyebrow lifting gently. “You did not think that you would be able to pretend that you were truly compassionate, truly regretful and truly sorrowful over what you did, are you? I have seen you pretend to be those things before and I was not convinced then and I am sure that the lady would not have been convinced either.”
“I did and said all that I had to!” Matthew exclaimed, garnering the attention of one or two of the other gentlemen in Whites though he did all he could to ignore them. “There can be nothing wrong with that.”
“But you were not sincere.”
Deflating a little, Matthew looked away. “Of course I was not.”
“And you are concerned now that she will tell her friends and acquaintances of all that has taken place and how you have responded to it. The reason you are concerned about this is because of your reputation amongst the ton and, in particular, the ladies of the ton . Is that not so?”
“And if it is?”
Lord Rutherford let out a small sigh. “Then you must accept Lady Sarah’s request and do what you can to answer the questions – or the mysteries – that she puts to you. That way, she will say nothing and you will be just as admired as you have always been.”
Certain that he heard a little weariness in his friend’s voice, Matthew frowned hard. “You think that I am foolish.”
“I think that you have always been foolish when it comes to expecting the admiration of so many,” Lord Rutherford answered, bluntly. “You have built yourself upon being admired, wanting to have the young ladies of London seeing you in the very best way possible, all so that you might feed your pride. But that is something that you have done repeatedly these last few years, so you surely cannot be surprised that I have noticed it?”
A little startled, it took Matthew a few minutes to compose himself enough to answer. Yes, he admitted silently, he had always liked to be admired by the ladies of London – and respected by the gentlemen also – but had that truly become so significant to him that it was the only thing he considered? And was it so apparent that his closest friend could see it clearly?
“I – I do not want my reputation to be damaged,” he said, eventually. “That is all. That is all that I am concerned about.”
“Then you will do as Lady Sarah has asked, then,” Lord Rutherford answered calmly, as though this was just a simple matter of acceptance. “Though I should say, I do not think it fair that you suggest the lady would lie about you. That is not what she has said, given what you told me.”
“But how can I trust that?” Matthew answered, seeing a reason now to do what Lady Sarah had said, a reason which excluded his supposed pride. “That is my reason for thinking to do as she asks; it is because she could very easily say a great many dark and unfair things about me to all the members of the ton and my reputation could be ruined!” He set his glass down beside him, beginning to gesture now that he had caught onto the notion. “Do you not see that? That is why I say that I am being blackmailed. I say it because it is true! Lady Sarah has said that she will say nothing more to the ton aside from what has taken place but I do not know the lady and I certainly cannot trust her! She could be nothing more than an idle gossip, looking to put herself as the center, garnering as much attention and sympathy as she can – mayhap to catch the attention of the gentlemen of London so she might then make an excellent match! And it shall be at my expense, at my falling that she will do so. Come now, you cannot expect me simply to trust her! I do not know the lady and neither do you.”
Lord Rutherford frowned and then ran one hand over his chin, clearly considering. “That is true, I suppose. But all the same, what does it matter if a lady speaks ill of you? It is not as though that has not happened to almost every gentleman in London! Recall that even I had a whisper about me last Season, when Lady Crawford was insulted that I did not dance twice with her daughter? She made up some nonsense and the ton where speaking of that for a time though it did soon fade. That is what will happen here, should you decide just to continue on as you are.”
“Ah, but I cannot take that risk,” Matthew countered. “I cannot be sure that a whisper – whatever it might be – will fade. I cannot pretend that it will go by just as easily as it did for you. Therefore, I should do as the lady has demanded, though I will make certain that these little mysteries of hers are few in number. They cannot simply go on and on until she is satisfied with her scheme!”
Lord Rutherford’s frown lingered. “You do speak rather poorly of the lady when she may be quite genteel,” he said, mildly. “Might I ask why she has decided to offer you these… mysteries, as you have called them? What was it that made her do such a thing?”
Matthew, who had not explained about Tom Jones, scowled. “She told me that my lack of consideration or some such thing was a good deal lesser than a gentleman who was not even a gentleman! She stated that a fellow named Tom Jones was a better gentleman than I and I, of course, told her that she was utterly mistaken. How could a man without a title be better than I? I, who have been to Eton? It is the most ridiculous thing.” Seeing Lord Rutherford’s eyes sharpen for a moment, Matthew shifted in his chair, a little uncomfortable. “I may have suggested one or two somewhat ungainly things and that appeared to upset her a great deal.”
“Indeed. Though you do not know who Tom Jones is?”
Astonishment wrapped around Matthew’s frame. “You are acquainted with him?”
A light smile tugged at Lord Rutherford’s lips. “I am.”
“Who is he?” Matthew demanded, sitting forward in his chair. “Surely you will be able to tell me that he is not more of a gentleman than I? Lady Sarah informed that he was taken into the house of a Squire, which does not improve him to me in the least! It means that he has no father or mother to speak of and might very well be illegitimate!”
Lord Rutherford chuckled. “That is something of a mystery, yes. Though I must tell you, I believe that it is as the lady says. He is a good deal better mannered than you have been towards Lady Sarah, yes.”
Matthew’s mouth fell open. “How can you say such a thing?” he breathed, attempting to hide the pain which had lanced his heart. “You are my closest friend and yet now, here you are to tell me that I am no better than a pauper?”
His friend shrugged. “You know very well that I speak as I find so this should come as no surprise to you, my friend.”
“But it is… ” Matthew squeezed his eyes closed. “Who is he? How is it that you are acquainted with him and I am not?”
“Oh, I am not about to tell you that!” Lord Rutherford exclaimed, chuckling. “My dear friend, this is something that you shall have to find out for yourself.”
A bolt of anger lanced through Matthew’s heart. “You would do such a thing as that? You, who is my closest friend and – ”
“That is the second time that you have called me such a thing,” Lord Rutherford interrupted, his tone a little firmer now, “and that should be something of note to you rather than something you throw at me. I am your friend. I am your very dear friend, in fact, and I personally think that in pursuing this, you might find yourself somewhat improved.”
Insulted, Matthew got to his feet in anger, his hands balling tight. “Improved?”
“Yes,” Lord Rutherford said, though he spoke with quietness and did not so much as shift in his chair. “You do not like hearing that from me, but I shall speak my mind nonetheless.”
Matthew shook his head, his anger burning so hot, he could not speak. Making a strangled noise, he reached for his glass, tipped the rest of his brandy down his throat and without another word, strode out of Whites and out into the cool night air.
“Improved?” he hissed, walking towards his waiting carriage, his face prickling now with the mixture of heat and fury. “How dare he say such a thing? I need no such improvements! There should be sympathy and understanding rather than agreement.” He did not know whether he was angry from what Lord Rutherford had said to him about the need for improvement or whether it was the fact that his friend would not tell him who Tom Jones was, nor how he was acquainted with him. That would have solved a great many of Matthew’s difficulties, for then he could have gone to this fellow, acquainted himself with him and discovered what it was about him that made him so much better in his behavior than Matthew himself! Thereafter, he might have been able to go to Lady Sarah, declare that he knew full well who it was she had been speaking of and then, in triumph, declare that he was not about to engage in any other foolishness.
It seemed now, however, that his friend was not about to be of aid to him and, in frustration and anger, Matthew climbed into the carriage and directed it home. He had no time for Lord Rutherford’s nonsense at this juncture and certainly had no interest in giving in to all that Lady Sarah demanded.
But neither do I want my reputation to be tainted, he reminded himself as the carriage continued through the dark London streets. Whatever is it that I am to do?
***
“Good evening, Lady Sarah.”
The white hot streak of anger which raced through Matthew as he bowed in front of the young lady was not unexpected but, all the same, it forced him to clench his hands into fists as he lifted from his bow – though only for a moment so that she would not see.
“Good evening, Lord Downfield,” she answered, though she did not bob into a curtsy. “I am afraid that I am unable to curtsy this evening. I can stand and walk a little way without assistance and that is all I am good for.”
Matthew managed a tight smile. “I see. Well, it is good to see you in company again.” He did not mean this last sentence in the least but all the same, felt himself required to say it, as they were altogether in a ballroom and given the company that they were in. Her mother and father were standing near her, with Lady Catherine by her side though he had not greeted her as yet. Begrudgingly – and having very little inclination towards the light smile on her lips – Matthew inclined his head. “Good evening to you also, Lady Catherine.”
“Good evening, Lord Downfield,” came the reply, though she said nothing more, that hint of a smile remaining. When Matthew looked again to Lady Sarah, that smile had shifted to Lady Sarah’s expression and his frustration redoubled itself. The two young ladies were clearly waiting for something, waiting for him to say that yes, he was doing to do as Lady Sarah had demanded or that no, he was not going to do so and that they could say what they wished about his reputation.
Matthew cleared his throat, hating that he had been bested by Lady Sarah. He was not used to ever having to do as anyone else demanded, had always managed to do just as he pleased without concern or query and yet, here now was this young lady who was nothing but determined to have him do as she desired.
What choice to I have?
Despite his anger the previous evening, despite his upset with Lord Rutherford and his singular determination not to give in, after many hours of consideration, Matthew had seen he had no other choice. With a heavy heart and a jaw set in anger, he spread out his hands. “It seems as though I will have to do as you wish, Lady Sarah. Whatever these little mysteries are of yours, I will discover the truth of them. Though you will not be permitted to play games with me endlessly!”
Lady Sarah’s eyes gleamed. “Very well, Lord Downfield. How many mysteries should you say are fitting?”
He lifted his chin. “Two.”
At this, Lady Catherine let out a snort of obvious disdain. “I should say five. That might bring his pride down a little.”
Matthew curled his toes in his boots such was his anger at being spoken about in such a way but he remained silent, nonetheless. This supposed aim of reducing his so-called pride was nothing but foolishness, for to his mind, while there was certainly a little pride in himself, it was nothing in comparison to other gentlemen. It was a trait that every person had, he was sure, and he was no different from any other!
“I think we shall say four,” Lady Sarah murmured, tilting her head as her chestnut curls drifted from one shoulder to the next, catching Matthew’s attention for a moment. It was only a brief moment but all the same, the anger which had burned through him faded in an instant. He dropped his gaze, trying to bring it back to himself, trying to fill himself with the same fury and upset as he had felt before but nothing came.
“The first is, of course, discovering who Tom Jones is and acquainting yourself with him,” Lady Sarah continued, smiling at him and, as Matthew looked back into her eyes, he felt his anger begin to dissipate all the more. “I look forward to hearing what you have learned of him.”
Matthew grimaced, looking away. He did not like that she appeared to be so well connected when he was not – and that Lord Rutherford knew of this person also. “You wish me to acquaint myself with this… this lowly fellow and thereafter come to inform me that I have done so?”
“Oh no, I wish to know more than that!” Lady Sarah exclaimed. “I wish you to be able to inform me as to why this lowly fellow , as you have called him, is a much greater gentleman in terms of his conduct and behaviour than you have been towards me.”
His gaze shot back to hers, seeing the smile still gracing her lips. “You speak very boldly for a young lady, demanding such things of me!”
A slight lift of her eyebrows told him that she was less than pleased with his response. “I am afraid, Lord Downfield, that this is what you have agreed to. If you wish to end this before it has even begun, then please, inform me of that now so that I can do as I have said I shall do.”
“So you can lie about me to all of your friends? So you can spread lies to your companions?” Matthew scoffed, shaking his head. “I hardly think so.”
What looked like a flicker of hurt entered Lady Sarah’s hazel eyes, her smile fading. “I am not the sort of young lady to lie, Lord Downfield. I have already stated that I would speak only of what has taken place between us, that is all. I would not embellish it, I can assure you.”
Matthew hesitated, wanting to tell her that he did not believe her, that he did not believe a single word which she spoke, only for the look in her eyes to convince him otherwise. He stopped himself from speaking so, dropping his gaze and clearing his throat a little gruffly. “Very well, Lady Sarah. I cannot say that I trust you implicitly but I will give you the benefit of the doubt in this situation, at least. All the same, I am not about to turn from what I have agreed to. Instead, I will find this Tom Jones, I will speak with him and acquaint myself with him and, thereafter, will come to speak with you again. Though it may not be the answer that you are hoping for, Lady Sarah. It may be that I find there is nothing significant about his character.”
The smile which had been on her lips before returned in an instant, a twinkle in her eye. “I doubt that very much, Lord Downfield, but I suppose I shall accept your answer regardless of my own opinion.”
“Good.” Feeling a little more in control of the situation now, Matthew clasped his hands behind his back. “Then I look forward to speaking with you again soon. My search shall begin at this very moment.” He inclined his head and made to turn away, only for her soft voice to reach him.
“If you wish, Lord Downfield, I might give you a single hint as to where you could find Tom Jones, if you wish?”
A little surprised, Matthew turned back to face her. “Some benevolence from my captor, then?”
She laughed at this rather than taking offence and, despite himself, Matthew’s lips edged up into a half smile though he quickly dimmed it thereafter.
“I am hardly your captor, Lord Downfield, though you may think of me in such terms if you wish.” Her eyes still sparkling, she tilted her head. “Do you wish for the hint or not?”
Matthew did not immediately answer. The way that she had laughed, the spark in her eyes and the light color in her cheeks had given him pause. Whether he wanted to notice it or not, Lady Sarah was certainly a pretty young lady, especially when she smiled with such ease. It was only when the moments of silence grew a little uncomfortable and Lady Sarah’s eyebrows lifted that Matthew realized he had not yet answered her and, quickly, he shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose so, yes.”
“You should not be so generous, not so soon after he has agreed to this,” Lady Catherine interjected, putting one hand to Lady Sarah’s. “Why must you be so kind?”
Lady Sarah hesitated, then she smiled. “Because what is a little kindness?” she asked, softly, looking to Matthew rather than to her friend. “Now, Lord Downfield, what I must tell you is very important. This fellow, this Tom Jones, can only be found in one place.”
Matthew blinked, confusion settling on him. “Only in one place? Does he never make his way to another town or the like?”
“Oh, he does but he still can only be found in one place,” she answered, her eyes still sparkling with obvious humor though Matthew did not find it in the least bit amusing. “Does that content you or would you like something a little more specific?”
“A little more specific if you please,” Matthew grated, as Lady Catherine sighed heavily, her irritation that Lady Sarah was being so kind obviously growing. “Finding him only in one place makes it all the more difficult for I could be searching all over London and still be lost.”
“Very well.” Lady Sarah laughed and tipped her head again, appearing almost a little coy. “He can be found in amongst the shops and the like, in the very heart of London.”
Matthew frowned, his jaw suddenly tight. “I find it highly unlikely that a fellow such as he could be discovered in such a place. That is only filled with gentlemen and ladies! Why would a fellow such as he ever dare to walk amongst the ton ?”
“All the same,” Lady Sarah interrupted, her smile now gone and a firmness to her expression which spoke of irritation, “that is where he can be found. Good evening, Lord Downfield. I do hope that you will be able to discover him soon. You might learn a good deal from him.”
Scoffing inwardly at this, Matthew kept his expression calm as he bowed. “Good evening, Lady Sarah, Lady Catherine.” He made to turn, only for something about the lady’s softening expression to catch his attention. For whatever reason, his gaze lingered on her for a brief moment, watching as her lips curved on one side, a slight lift to her eyebrow as she gazed back at him.
And then Matthew turned away completely, his brow furrowing as a flicker of interest in the lady settled in his heart. Frustrated with himself, he made his way directly to the opposite side of the ballroom, determined that he would not be in her company again for the remainder of the evening.