Page 13 of Second Chances (Intrepid Heroines #3)

Twelve

“I t’s hardly fair,” groused Max as he jabbed a piece of broiled kidney. “I don’t know why a mere accumulation of years should entitle one to have all the fun.”

“I assure you, having to dance with that man was hardly what I would consider fun,” murmured Allegra.

Max colored slightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean?—”

“I know you didn’t.” She smiled at him. “Actually, you would have enjoyed your father’s verbal toying with Sandhill, though the man hadn’t a clue that he was being told of his imminent demise.” She paused. “Of course, he didn’t hear your father express the wish to plant him a facer.”

“I should hope not—wouldn’t that have ruined all our plans?” Max took another bite of his shirred eggs. “Why did Father want to plant him a facer at a ball?”

“Because he was ogling at Mrs. Proctor’s gown.” The earl came into the breakfast room and motioned for the footman to pour him a cup of tea.

Max eyed Allegra’s plain grey merino day dress, with its long sleeves and prim neckline. “Whatever for?”

“There was considerably less fabric swathing her last night,” replied the earl dryly as he unfolded the ironed pages of the newspaper that lay by his plate.

His son turned back to Allegra with great interest. “Really?”

She found herself blushing furiously. “That’s hardly fair of you, sir. You know I had little choice in the matter.”

His face was hidden by the newsprint but she thought she detected a chuckle.

“Leo, do stop teasing,” ordered Lady Alston as she, too, took a seat at the table. “Allegra looked absolutely lovely last night.” She regarded her nephew with a twinkle in her eye. “If you leave off sneaking into the billiards room with the boot boy and come give us a proper good night, you would see for yourself.”

Max quickly nodded, appearing intrigued.

Lady Alston’s expression became more serious. “Things are moving at a more rapid pace than I imagined. I saw that Edmund brought you to Lord Sandhill’s notice. Even at a distance, I could see he was eyeing the emeralds.”

A sound something akin to a snort came from behind the paper.

Allegra nodded. “I think I managed to convey both my widowed state and the largess of my dear, departed husband. I also made it clear that I was seeking an establishment of my own, as we discussed.”

Lady Alston nodded her approval. “I believe my husband’s man of affairs has located just the thing for us. A charming little townhouse on Mount Street has become available as the family that had taken it for the Season was called back to East Anglia by the death of an aged aunt. As soon as he engages the requisite servants, we will see that you are moved in.” Her brows came together in perfect imitation of her brother’s expression. “However, we will need to offer Sandhill more enticement to ensure that he falls into our trap. I’m afraid I don’t have much more to lend you that wouldn’t be recognized as Alston family heirlooms, and that would not do.” She put down her cup. “Leo, perhaps we might borrow some of the Wrexham jewels?—”

“Oh no,” interrupted Allegra with a shocked gasp.

The earl lay down his paper. “I don’t see why not. I had planned to visit my banker this afternoon so I shall bring a few things back from the vault.”

“I cannot allow you to risk …”

“As you have told me many times, there is no risk. The necklace we will leave in the empty house will be paste, but in the meantime, Olivia is right. You must look the part of the wealthy widow.”

There was little she could say in argument. With a reluctant sigh, she let the matter rest.

Max was not so willing to see the subject dropped. “I don’t know why no one pays any attention to me in this affair,” he said hotly, his hands balled in frustration beside his plate. “Mrs. Proctor, you cannot deny that at home I was of help. Yet here in Town, I am taken to Astley’s and the Tower as if I am a mere schoolboy on holiday.”

Wrexham let the paper drop. “Max,” he began, but then his brow furrowed in consternation as he seemed to be searching for the right words.

Allegra had been regarding the lad with sympathy and jumped in to fill the silence. “I am well aware of how unfair it feels to be told you cannot do something simply because of who you are.”

She studiously avoided looking at the earl as she continued. “But in this case, it would be rather difficult to include you in the evening activities. We can hide the fact that I don’t belong here with silks and jewels and a skilled lady’s maid, but I’m afraid we can’t disguise your age. If you came along, it would attract undue notice which I’m sure you will agree must be avoided at all costs. So there is nothing for it, but to wait. You know you have a role to play later on. It is small but vitally important, and you must be satisfied with that.”

Max swallowed hard and the resentment seemed to dissolve into grudging understanding. “I suppose I see what you mean,” he said slowly.

The earl’s face was inscrutable for a moment, then he pushed back his chair and rose. “Max, do you care to join me in a visit to Tattersall’s? I think I may consider getting an additional carriage horse for my curricle, in case we remain in Town for any length of time, and I would like your opinion.”

His son’s eyes lit up at being included in such an important decision. “That sounds splendid!” He scrambled to his feet as he bolted down one last bit of scone.

“Then perhaps we will stop at Gunter’s for ices so you do not starve before we return home,” added his father.

Max gave an embarrassed grin. “I’m growing. Cook says I need my sustenance.”

Lady Alston watched fondly as the two of them left the room, still engaged in a playful bantering. “I miss the two of them dreadfully, you know,” she said softly. “I do wish Leo would not keep himself quite so locked away. It does him less good than he imagines, and soon Max will be gone….” Her voice trailed off into a sigh. “I wish there were something I could do to—but forgive me for burdening you with such thoughts. It is just that they are very dear to me.”

Allegra nodded her understanding, not trusting her voice to hide her own feelings on the matter.

* * *

Lady Alston looked up from the letter she was writing. “Did you and Max have an enjoyable time?”

Wrexham stood in the doorway of his sister’s sitting room. “Quite.” He gave a rueful grimace. “Though along with the intended carriage horse, I found myself cajoled into acquiring a chestnut hunter who had better clear any fence known to mankind, given the price.”

She laughed. “I’m sure you could well afford it.”

“Well, it was worth every farthing, to see the expression on Max’s face, now that he can ride in Hyde Park with me on something other than—as he put it—a slug.”

He strolled over to her escritoire and placed a large leather case in front of her. “I have stopped at my banker and chosen a few items I thought might suit. If there is anything else you wish to add, you may call on Hawkins at your convenience.”

Curious as to what he had brought from the extensive collection of the Wrexham family jewels, Lady Alston undid the delicate brass clasp and opened the lid. At the sight of what lay there, she drew in a sharp breath.

“Is there something amiss?”

Her eyes came up to meet his. “No—that is, you … you have included the Wrexham diamonds!”

“I thought they would look well with smoke-blue figured silk gown you plan for her to wear to the Wainwright affair.” His eyebrow raised slightly at the look of surprise still evident on her face. “You did say that you trusted my taste, did you not?”

“Of course … B-But family tradition has always been that the diamonds are worn only when a lady is deemed worthy of ...” A pause. “You never allowed Suz—” Lady Alston bit her lip and stopped abruptly.

Wrexham’s expression remained unchanged, though his jaw noticeably tightened. “You know I pay little attention to so-called tradition. None of these baubles are likely to be worn until Max takes a bride, so they may as well be of some use. Besides, as the diamonds have not been worn in ages, there is little chance of them being recognized,” he pointed out. “Isn’t that what you were worried about?”

Lady Alston’s lips pressed together, but she didn’t attempt to argue. Her gaze went back to the magnificent pieces of jewelry that lay inside the padded satin. “Well, it seems you have considered this all in a very practical manner.” After a moment’s hesitation, she went on. “Allegra will look quite stunning in these. And of course, I will see they are returned to Hawkins as soon as this is over, so that they are safe for the next Wrexham countess.”

* * *

Wrexham regarded Allegra with a grudging admiration as he watched her interact with the other guests at the ball. He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but on listening to her silly chatter and girlish giggles he had to admit she was managing to sound even more buffleheaded than most of the ladies present.

Bingham approached and took up station beside him. “Amazing, isn’t it,” he murmured as he took a sip of his champagne. “Perhaps she should consider taking up a career on the boards when this is over.”

The earl grunted.

The appearance of being dim-witted had not discouraged a number of gentlemen from hanging on Allegra’s every word. With each passing evening, the numbers seemed to swell. As one after another led her out to dance his ill-humor increased.

“Some of the mamas have been heard grousing over you bringing your lovely cousin to distract all the eligible men.” There was a rich humor in his friend’s voice. “They can hardly be blamed I suppose. The schoolroom misses certainly pale beside her.”

Wrexham shot him a dark look.

Bingham cleared his throat and gave up any further attempts at conversation. After a moment, he excused himself to refill his glass and seek more congenial company.

At last, it was the earl’s turn to lead her out. As the dance was a waltz, it allowed the opportunity to exchange a few private words.

“Congratulations, Allegra. You certainly have wasted no time in attracting a swarm of admirers,” he said as his arm encircled her waist. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded peevish.

She looked at him strangely before replying. “Come, Leo. Surely you know better than I that it is the lure of a fortune rather than any charms of mine that causes these … gentlemen to gather around me.” Her lip curled slightly in disdain. “Truly, they are even more ridiculous than I had imagined—not a halfway intelligent or original thought among the lot of them. Really, I don’t know how you tolerate it.”

Wrexham’s grip on her hand relaxed slightly as he stifled a chuckle. “I don’t,” he admitted. “That is part of the reason I am quite content to stay in Yorkshire.”

Allegra regarded him thoughtfully. “Only part? What are some of the other reasons? For surely you have more opportunity for socializing here in town. I have seen the way any number of ladies follow your every move.”

“Like predators,” he said tersely. “They have only one thing in mind, and as I have told you, I have no interest in remarrying.”

“Yes, you have made that very clear.” She was silent for a moment. “Well, you will hear no argument from me on that score. It seems to me that the state of matrimony is highly overrated.”

He should have been gratified by her words, but somehow, they only caused his mood to grow even darker. They spoke very little for the rest of the dance, and after relinquishing his spot to a florid-looking young man with ginger side whiskers, he went in search of Bingham and suggested they leave the ball for the comforts of White’s and a bottle of brandy.

It was quite late when the two of them repaired to the earl’s library for one last libation. Bingham gave an amused chuckle as he strolled to the fire and stirred the logs to life.

“You know,” he said, suddenly steering the conversation away from politics and the latest doings of the Prince Regent. “It appears that Allegra has won herself quite a bevy of suitors. Why, Blackthorn just hinted to me tonight that he was on the verge of making an offer—and he’s nearly as plump in the pocket as you are.

Wrexham picked up the nearest thing at hand, a small leatherbound volume of essays that lay half open on his desk and hurled it against the wall. “Damnation, Edmund,” he snarled. “Enough about Allegra!”

Bingham stared at the broken binding, then at his friend’s rigid features. “I’m sorry, Leo,” he said quietly.

Wrexham slumped into one of the comfortable leather wingchairs near the fire and raked his hand through his hair. “Forgive me. I … I fear I have not been myself lately. I don’t usually give rein to my temper in such a childish manner.”

Bingham poured them both a brandy. He handed a glass to the earl, then took a seat opposite him and remained silent for a time as he swirled the amber spirits of his own drink. “That bad, is it?” he finally asked.

Wrexham made a wry grimace. “The devil take it, I’ve never met anyone quite like her. I can actually talk to her about things that interest me and get more than just a blank stare.” He gave a harried chuckle. “Why, more than likely, she will know more about the subject than I do—or at least think she does. Confound it, I even enjoy arguing with her.”

He let out his breath in a deep sigh and gazed moodily into the flickering flames before he went on. “And her intellect is matched by her kindness and compassion. When Max was hurt, she cared for him as if he were her own child.”

There was a slight pause. “She is courageous as well, and resourceful—and so damnably attractive I can scarcely keep my hands off her.” Again his fingers tugged through his tumbled locks. “Good Lord,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “If Max hadn’t come downstairs to the library on the night before we left for London, I would have ...” A look of self-loathing crept over his face.

Bingham regarded him with sympathy. “Don’t rake yourself over the coals about it, Leo. I feel sure Allegra would be entirely capable of discouraging any unwanted advances.” A pause. “I assume she didn’t take a poker to your head.”

“Not exactly,” he mumbled, closing his eyes briefly at the memory of her torrid response to his kisses and the way her fingers had traced the line of his jaw.

Bingham allowed himself a slight smile. “So what the devil is stopping you? You have no need to seek a match for any reason but your own feelings. And you needn’t worry on Max’s account. He adores her.”

Wrexham’s head jerked up. “A match? You know I never mean to marry again.”

Bingham took a long sip of his brandy before answering. “Don’t be a bloody fool, Leo. She is nothing like Suzanna. Why, if I didn’t have to replenish the family coffers, I might even try to cut you out myself.” Ignoring the earl’s astonished expression, he stood up and set his glass on the table. “She is a singular woman. Don’t let one mistake in your life cause you to make an even bigger one.” A cough. “And now, I think it’s time to take myself off. Good night.”

He was out of the door before Wrexham could find his tongue.

* * *

It was easy to understand how one could become very used to this way of life, thought Allegra as she surveyed yet another ballroom filled with the glitter of lights, the rustle of silk, the heady perfume of fresh cut flowers, and the echoes of clinking crystal, gay laughter and a lilting Viennese waltz.

It was … seductive. Yes, that was the word. It was tempting to become self-absorbed, to think only of pretty things and the evening’s pleasure rather than real ideas and complex feelings.

Could it happen to her, she wondered, as her hand smoothed the skirt of her expensive silk gown and then fingered the small fortune in gems encircling her throat? Of course, marriage would be her only entree into this world of privilege, once the charade was over, so it would mean she would have to trade her independence for such a life of pampered security … a life of never having to worry about a roof over her head or how to support herself … a life with children, perhaps.

It would be arrogant in the extreme to imagine she was above temptation.

What person was?

But when she considered whether she would rather read a book full of provocative ideas or sit down to breakfast with a man with whom she couldn’t share her excitement, her fears, her outrage her laughter, she gave a rueful smile and knew she was safe.

And yet, it was not as if there were no admirable people among the wealthy and titled. She had to admit that her original beliefs had been wrong. The ton was no different than any other part of society—there was good and evil, intelligence and ignorance, kindness and cruelty. She had met more than a few gentlemen who not only held quite thoughtful views, but also did not look horrified when she expressed an opinion of her own. And there were some ladies of recent acquaintance who had given hints of interests beyond embroidery and the pianoforte, along with others whose sharp observations and keen sense of humor had made her wish to know them better.

In short, it would not be impossible to have real friends here in Society …

“You appear rather thoughtful tonight.”

Allegra was jerked out of her reverie by the sound of Lord Bingham’s voice. He handed her a glass of ratafia punch. “Would you care to share what is bringing such an enigmatic expression to your countenance?”

She took a sip from her glass. “I was merely thinking on how … quixotic life is.”

He looked at her as if he expected her to go on. When she didn’t, a ghost of a smile crept to his lips as well. “Ah, but that is what keeps it so interesting.”

Allegra gave a little laugh. “That is one way of looking at it.”

They stood together in companionable silence for a few moments before Bingham spoke again. “You are moved into your townhouse?”

“Yes, a few days ago.” Her eyes filled with humor. “It is quite a novel experience to be head of a household, with servants to order around at will.” A self-deprecating chuckle. “I had better not get used to it!”

“Hmmm.” He gave her an odd look, then quickly went on. “So everything is in readiness?”

She nodded. “Sandhill is here and I am engaged to stand up with him just before the supper dance. The trap shall be set then, and if all goes according to plan, it will snap shut tomorrow night.”

Bingham raised his glass. “Well then, … to everything turning out as it should.”

* * *

A short while later, Sandhill bowed low over Allegra’s hand. “Ah, Mrs. Ransley, you are looking particularly lovely tonight.” His eyes were locked not on her face, but on the glittering sunburst pendant of sapphires and diamonds that hung from a thick choker of pearls around her throat.

She had steeled herself to accept his touch without flinching, but it was still an effort to force a smile. However, Allegra took some small satisfaction in having him pay his effusive compliments, unaware that she was the plain parson’s daughter he had passed on many occasions with nary a second glance. As she had often noted, most people saw only what they chose.

“How kind of you, Lord Sandhill,” she replied with a graceful nod. “Quite a crush tonight, is it not?” she added, stating the obvious.

“Lady Kensington has a reputation as a splendid hostess.” He gave a broad wink. “And his lordship’s cellars are held in equally high regard.”

She gave a little titter. “Oh, you gentlemen are so sly. So, is that the only reason you have made an appearance?”

“That, and of course the opportunity to dance with you.”

Allegra forced herself to appear pleased at his heavy-handed flattery. “Well, I am very glad that you are here, for I dearly wish to ask a gentleman’s advice on something, and my cousin has been too busy for me to seek him out.”

“I am only too happy to be of assistance, Mrs. Ransley. Perhaps we should sit out this set and you may explain your problem to me.”

Her eyelashes dropped demurely. “You are sure you don’t mind?”

Sandhill offered her his arm and led her to a small settee next to a towering arrangement of tuber roses and lacy ferns. She made a show of smoothing her silken skirts, then folded her gloved hands in her lap before beginning. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that she had his undivided attention.

“As you know, I am unused to the habits of London servants since my dear husband chose not to partake of the Season,” she began, then paused to release a heavy sigh. “And now that I am recently established in my own townhouse, I wish to convey exactly the right tone as an employer. That is, I wish to be seen as both generous and yet not weak, so that they may not be tempted to take advantage of me.”

Sandhill’s expression betrayed that he was fast losing interest in such a mundane problem, so she hurried on.

“My cousins have invited me to a picnic supper and fireworks in Covent Gardens tomorrow evening. As it promises to be a very late night, I may simply stay with Olivia rather than return to my own abode. The question is, should I give my servants the evening off as a gesture of good will?”

His eyes narrowed very slightly as he appeared to give the matter considerable thought. “An excellent idea, Mrs. Ransley,” he replied. “By all means, do as you say. I believe it would be just the right touch. One must be strict, but servants will work harder if they know they will receive an occasional unexpected reward.”

Allegra let out a relieved sigh. “I am so glad you think so.” Her hand moved up to toy with her necklace. “I have been in a tizzy trying to decide what to do, and now you have made up my mind for me—oh, goodness!”

“Is something wrong?”

“The catch on my necklace—I hadn’t realized it was so loose. I must have it sent off to be repaired.” She leaned towards him and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You mustn’t tattle on me, but I am such a peagoose when it comes to practical things. I’m afraid that I am always putting off what should be done, or forgetting it altogether. Why, I know I am supposed to keep my trinkets in a bank vault, but just never get around to it. I know my late husband’s man of affairs would be furious if he knew I simply kept them in my dressing table. But it seems like such a bother to be constantly running back and forth, and I do so like to wear them.”

Sandhill patted her arm as a slow smile spread over his face. “Don’t worry in the least, my dear Mrs. Ransley. Your little secret is safe with me.”

* * *

All heads turned as Allegra entered the library the next morning.

Unable to contain himself any longer, it was Bingham who spoke first. “Well? Did everything go smoothly?

“For God’s sake, Edmund, let her at least sit down first before you ply her with questions,” snapped Wrexham. He hadn’t failed to notice the dark smudges under her eyes and the tightness around her mouth.

“Yes, I am quite sure he has fallen for it.” She took a seat near the fire and gratefully accepted the cup of steaming tea that Lady Alston offered. “There is no doubt in my mind that he and his son will be there tonight.”

“But you seem … nervous, Mrs. Proctor,” said Max slowly, as he watched the cup shake slightly on its way to her lips.”

“I suppose I am a bit on edge,” she admitted. “Though it is not the sort of nervousness you mean. It’s just that, well, I have thought of this moment for so long and now, one way or another, it all will be over shortly. It seems … almost unreal.”

“It will be very real when the Runners clap those two scoundrels in irons and drag them off to the gaol,” growled Wrexham. “Bingham and I shall see to that. You may rest easy that your role is done. You will be on your way to Covent Gardens when we spring the trap.”

Bingham began to pace the room. “Is everyone very clear on what the plan is tonight? We wouldn’t want any last minute mistakes to scare Sandhill and son off.”

All heads nodded.

“Still, it cannot hurt to go over it once again. Max?”

“I am to impersonate Father and escort Aunt Olivia into our carriage at nine-thirty sharp. Then we will stop at Mrs. Proctor’s townhouse and I will escort her into the carriage as well, so that anyone observing us will see the evening proceeding exactly as Mrs. Proctor described. We are to drive off in the direction of Covent Gardens, and travel for at least twenty minutes, in case anyone is observing our actions. Then we are to double back and go to Lord Bingham’s rooms to await word from you.”

“Very good,” said Bingham, nodding in approval. “Leo, you will be stationed in the garden, for that is by far the most likely spot they will choose for breaking into the townhouse. I will be a street away with the Runners?—”

“Why is Leo alone?” demanded Allegra. “It is too dangerous?—”

“I’m afraid it can’t be helped,” said Bingham. “There is too great a risk they would notice more than one person trying to hide in that small space. And it is I who have a friend at Bow Street, so I must stay with them.”

“I shall be well-armed, and at the arranged signal, Edmund and the Runners will be on the scene in a matter of minutes,” said Wrexham in a low voice. “There is no reason for concern.”

Allegra bit her lip but said nothing further.

“Any other questions?”

None of them spoke.

“Well then, there is nothing more to do but wait.”

* * *

Lady Alston adjusted the silk shawl over her shoulders one last time. The clock on the mantel of began to chime the half hour as she picked up her reticule from the tufted sidechair and hurried into the entrance hall. She turned at the sound of footsteps behind her.

“Really, Max, you needn’t go to that length to obscure your features.” She repressed a smile. “From a distance you look near enough like your father without having to disguise yourself like a highwayman.”

A muffled sound came through the thick scarf wrapped nearly up to the eyes. Eyes that were not at all the steely blue of her nephew’s, but rather a deep hazel color.

“Max?” She peered closer, then uttered a word that neither her brother nor her husband would have guessed she knew. “Is that you, Robert?”

The young under footman’s eyes grew even wider at the sound of the oath. “Y … es, Your Ladyship,” he stammered, falling back a step or two. “Lord Max said I was to assist you tonight—we have practiced and I am sure I can do it without a mistake. He also said I was to tell you not to worry and ...” The scarf had slipped down to reveal a slightly trembling lower lip. “You are not going to turn me out, are you?”

Lady’s Alston’s expression softened considerably. “No, Robert, of course I am not going to turn you out—though I would dearly love to get my hands on my nephew right now!” Her lips pressed together as the clock fell silent. After a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand on the young man’s arm. “Come, we must be on our way.”

A short while later, the carriage rolled to a halt in Mount Street and a tall, elegantly dressed gentleman emerged and mounted the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. The door opened at the first sound of the heavy brass knocker and Allegra appeared silhouetted in the muted light of the entrance hall.

“Thank you, Knowles. I shall be staying with my cousins, so you and the rest of the staff may have the evening off,” she said a trifle loudly.

The butler bowed low in thanks as she took the gentleman’s proffered arm and descended to the waiting vehicle.

“Where is Max?” she demanded as soon as the door shut and horses began to move forward.

Lady Alston shook her head. She turned to regard the cringing young man on the opposite seat.

“I … I don’t know, milady!” stammered Robert. “Truly I don’t.”

Allegra let out an exasperated sigh. “I might have known something like this would happen. Max has been chafing for days at being excluded from taking an active part in tonight’s actions because of his age.”

“Well, can’t worry about it now,” said Lady Alston grimly. “Let us hope he doesn’t do something foolish.”

Allegra threw herself back against the squabs and stared at the curtained window. Several moments passed, and then she suddenly turned to the under footman. “Give me your walking stick.”

The startled young man complied without hesitation.

“What do you—” began Lady Alston as Allegra rapped on the trap. “Allegra! I don’t think ...”

“Leo must be warned,” she said as the carriage pulled to halt near the corner of one of the quiet side streets. “You must continue on as planned.” Her mouth thinned into a tight smile. “Don’t worry—I have a bit of practice in skulking around. Everything will be fine.”

With that, she opened the door and slid out into the darkness.