Page 34 of The Devil’s Waltz

“Behave yourself, Hetty,” he said. “I resisted the temptation to spank your overindulged little backside, but I can always change my mind.”

“You won’t dare touch her!” William declared, starting to throw back the covers while Annelise shrieked and closed her eyes. Observing Chippie’s indecent statues was bad enough—she really didn’t want a full view of William Dickinson.

“Behave yourself, William,” Christian said. “If you think I couldn’t thrash you soundly you’re mistaken, and I doubt Miss Kempton would object.”

She opened her eyes, deciding she was safe.

William had sat back down again, pulling the covers up to his waist. He was a nicely made young man, she supposed, as hairless as the statues.

At least above the waist. She could feel her face flaming at the thought but fortunately no one was looking at her.

“If anyone deserves a thrashing it’s you, Mr. Montcalm,” Annelise said. “You’re a disgrace.”

He smiled at her, that sweet, beguiling smile that always had the ability to disturb her cool and rational mind. “Indeed I am,” he said. “It’s a shame I never had someone like you to show me the error of my ways when I was younger. I’m afraid by now I’m a lost cause.”

“And totally unrepentant.”

“Oh, I repent. I’m sorry I ever thought I could tolerate Hetty’s incessant yapping for the sake of her lovely fortune and her equally lovely face.

But I’m afraid she’s not worth it. And stop trying to jump out of bed to hit me, William.

You’d embarrass Miss Kempton more than you have already.

You need to concentrate on getting your betrothed out of here before another storm hits.

This time of year the roads get near impassible, and you definitely would not want to be trapped here. ”

“Definitely not! We’ll leave as soon as our carriage can be made ready,” Annelise answered for him.

“Ah, but there’s the problem. The cheap carriage you hired has a broken axle as well as a broken wheel, and it’s uncertain whether it can even be repaired. At the least it will take several weeks to get the work done, and I’m not prepared to have company for that long.”

“Then we’ll hire a new one.”

“There are no carriages for hire in a tiny town such as Hydesfield.”

William looked momentarily daunted, but Annelise was undeterred. “Then we will simply have to take your carriage,” she said. “I’m certain you were just about to offer it—it’s the least a good host could do if his unexpected guests are stranded. Particularly since it’s his fault they’re there.”

“Indeed, that was my very thought,” Christian said, affable as ever. “Except there’s still a minor problem.”

“And that is?”

“It’s a hired carriage, not exactly what you’re used to, and I doubt the driver can be persuaded to abandon it. He will, I’m certain, be happy to transport you wherever you wish to go, for a price. And the carriage isn’t bad—it’s fast and light and surprisingly comfortable.”

Annelise felt a sudden foreboding. She wasn’t sure why—he just seemed way too smug for the problem to be answered that easily. William was looking none too happy, and even Hetty seemed to realize the mysterious problem.

“And?” Annelise demanded.

“It only carries two passengers.”

She refused to panic. “Then I’m sure William could sit up with the driver...”

“There’s no room. Miss Kempton,” Christian said blandly. “And there’s no way William could manage to drive it—they’re tricky things to manage and not easily mastered. No, I’m afraid you have no choice but to go with the coachman.”

“I see no problem. The driver can drive and William can simply ride beside the coach. Dreadfully uncomfortable for you, William, but probably for the best, seeing what proximity with Hetty has led to.”

“Again, another problem,” Christian said.

“Carriage horses, as you know, are unridable, and I have only two other horses in my stable, due to my straitened circumstances. One is lame, and the other far too small to carry William’s weight.

She might possibly support a woman of your stature, Miss Kempton, if you care to try. ”

She was going to disgrace herself and cry, Annelise thought. Either that or hit him. There was no way she could climb on the back of a horse, even to escape him. No way out. And the devil knew it.

“I don’t see what everyone’s so concerned about,” Hetty piped up. “William and I will depart for her sister’s house, and the moment we get there we’ll send a carriage for Miss Kempton. There’s no reason why she can’t stay here for a few days.”

“But she’s an unmarried lady...” William began.

“Pish! She’s on the shelf and we all know it. If Christian was able to resist me then someone like Annelise is perfectly safe.”

This was certainly a perfectly miserable conversation, Annelise thought, unsure how to stop it. Christian Montcalm was leaning against the door, faintly amused by the whole thing.

“Well, of course she’d be safe,” William replied, totally without tact. “She’s hardly the sort of woman who tempts a man to misbehave. There is still the question of her reputation.”

“If she were young enough and eligible enough it would already be in tatters,” Hetty pointed out.

“After all, she’s spent the night with you—she’d be ruined.

Fortunately people are unlikely to see anything improper when a well-bred female of her advanced age is in the company of a man.

After all, if spinster chaperons required their own spinster chaperons there simply wouldn’t be enough to go around. ”

“Charmingly put, Hetty,” Christian said.

Annelise had reached her limit. “I’m not yet thirty, for heaven’s sake!” she snapped. “Hardly tottering by anyone’s standards. And I’m not staying here!”

“But Annelise, no one would ever think someone like Christian would be interested in you,” Hetty kindly explained.

“He’s known as a connoisseur of beauty. Your reputation would be perfectly safe.

Whereas he’s right—I need to get out of here and under the care of respectable people as soon as possible.

You shouldn’t mind staying. You have no home of your own—and visiting one person’s house is not much different from another’s, even if this place is remarkably shabby.

And it won’t be for long—we’ll send someone after you as soon as we reach your sister’s house. ”

“I won’t?—”

“You have no choice, Miss Kempton,” Christian said in bored tones. “It shouldn’t be more than a few days, and I give you my solemn word that I will do nothing to impinge on your sterling reputation.”

“You already have,” she said, knowing she was trapped, still fighting.

“Hetty’s right, you know,” William said helpfully. “No one would ever think a philanderer such as Montcalm would have any interest in one such as yourself.”

And indeed, Montcalm was looking totally bored by the entire conversation.

“I leave it up to the three of you,” he said.

“You have my word as a gentleman that Miss Kempton is perfectly safe with me. Argue amongst yourselves—in the meantime I have some work to do. I have neglected this place for far too long, and the charming nest egg needs to be wisely spent. At least some of it does, before I return to London. I’ve ordered the carriage put to and informed the driver, and Mrs. Browne will have packed a meal for you to carry with you the first stage of the journey.

Just let me know how many guests I’ll be having for dinner. ”

“If I stay I’ll eat in my room,” Annelise said, and then bit her tongue. She shouldn’t have even entertained the notion that she might stay under the profligate’s roof.

But he seemed to have lost interest in her.

In fact, ever since her arrival he’d seemed far more interested in getting rid of Hetty than in Annelise’s presence.

Most likely his flirtation was nothing more than a way to annoy and distract her, and now that he had decided Hetty wasn’t worth the price, then her interfering companion was negligible.

As Hetty and William had discussed what a total antidote she was, he’d made only a token effort to object, to defend her.

She’d been a game that he had now tired of.

It should have been a relief. In fact, it was a relief. Just a deeply depressing one.

“As you wish,” he said, clearly dismissing her. “I can count on Mrs. Browne to see to your comfort. This is a big house and I keep odd hours. Besides, I’ll be extremely busy taking care of things I’ve been neglecting. I doubt you’ll even see me during your reluctant stay.”

She would have come up with a disparaging insult except that it appeared he meant exactly what he said. And to have expressed disbelief would have sounded both conceited and deluded. Despite his recent wicked behavior, he was no longer any threat to her at all.

“Very well,” she said, because if she said anything else she might cry, stupid sentimental female that she was. “I’m sure I’m making a fuss for nothing. I’ll stay until you can arrange transportation for me. Though I dislike the thought of you two being unchaperoned.”

“I think that particular milk has already been spilt,” Christian said. “I’ll have Mrs. Browne see to a room for you, Miss Kempton.”

She was about to insist that it be as far away from his rooms as possible, but he’d already left And such a request would have sounded absurd, given that she had been put so firmly in her place. On the shelf, unwanted.

There were no tears in her eyes when she turned back to the two miscreants, only determination. “William, wrap something around yourself, take your clothes and depart. You can wait for Hetty downstairs. I may have only a few hours left with her as my charge but I intend to make a few things clear.”

Hetty didn’t look any too pleased at the lecture she knew was coming, but William had the good sense not to trifle with a dragon. He pulled the coverlet from the bed, wrapped it around his body and scooped up his clothes. “I’ll be right back—” he began, but Annelise interrupted him.

“You’ll see to the carriage and the horses and that there are enough blankets to keep Miss Chippie warm, and good food to eat. And you will not touch anything but her hand or arm from now until you are decently wed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss Kempton,” he stammered, looking like a schoolboy. And she a stern schoolteacher. She sighed for what was and couldn’t be changed.

“Then go,” she said. And turned her steely gaze on the newly deflowered Hetty Chippie.