Rescued by the Viscount Page 3

  ‘I was sick with worry the whole time. You were so long. If it was as simple as that, why were you so long?’

  ‘Getting the necklace back was easy enough,’ Charlotte said and bit her bottom lip. ‘It was when I climbed out of the window and then over the railings into the street that I got into a bit of bother...’

  ‘What happened? Damn it, Charlie. Mother will kill me if I’ve ruined your chances. I should never have let you talk me into letting you risk yourself.’

  ‘You didn’t, you just stood there and lectured me about my morals—which is more than rich when it was you who stole the damned thing in the first place.’

  ‘I didn’t intend to steal from you, Charlie,’ Matt said, torn between remorse and reproach. ‘He is just such a brute...to be honest, I’m scared of him. He said if I didn’t pay the gambling debt he would approach Father and I couldn’t let that happen.’

  ‘No, it would have been dreadful,’ his fond sister said and smiled her forgiveness. ‘I don’t care about the wretched necklace, but if you’d asked I would have given you what is left of my allowance, and I could have told you that those diamonds were fakes.’

  ‘How was I to know? They’re damned good, Charlie. I thought they were real.’

  ‘Uncle Ben left me all his wife’s jewellery in good faith. I’m sure he didn’t know that Aunt Isobel had replaced most of it with fakes.’

  ‘Why do you think she did it?’ Matt asked, puzzled. ‘Surely her allowance was enough without doing such a thing to family heirlooms?’

  ‘I think she was a secret gambler,’ Charlotte said, wrinkling her smooth brow. She sighed and shook out her long dark hair, which had been jammed under one of her brother’s old school caps with the badge removed. They were in her private sitting room, which led into her bedchamber, and she was tired, the shock of having narrowly escaped being roughly abused coming home to her now that she was safe. ‘Mama said something about it when we had the jewels valued and realised some were fake.’

  ‘I feel awful about having Uncle Ben’s money now. He might have left some of it to you if he’d guessed about the jewels.’

  ‘That money is to buy you a commission in the army and to keep you as a gentleman should be able to live. Besides, you won’t come into it for another year and it isn’t so very much after all.’

  ‘No.’ He looked rueful. ‘Harding thought I was the heir to a large fortune, which is why he fastened his claws into me—but ten thousand and a small country estate is hardly a huge fortune, Charlie, and I can’t touch a penny for ages. If I’d had my own money I wouldn’t have taken your necklace. I was going to pay you back when I could afford it, and I knew you didn’t like that necklace anyway.’

  ‘It is old-fashioned,’ Charlotte replied. ‘Had it been real I should have had it remodelled for me, but Mama says it isn’t worth it. She says I can wear her diamonds if I have occasion.’

  ‘Why did you go to all that trouble to get it back then?’

  ‘Because if Lord Harding realised you’d given him a fake necklace to settle your debt to him, he would have labelled you a cheat and a thief—can you imagine what the gossips would make of that? My chances of making a good marriage would be lost, as would yours of joining a decent regiment.’

  ‘Yes...’ Matt looked gloomy. ‘I’ve been such a damned fool, Charlie. If it hadn’t been for you...’

  ‘It’s over and no one ever needs to know anything about it,’ Charlotte said. She thought about the man who had grabbed at her as she was passing through the park. His hands had soon discovered her secret and the thought of him touching her breasts made her feel sick, but it had been dark there in the park and she was fairly certain that he would not recognise her if they met in society. Both he and his companion had been drunk—but the man who had saved her was another matter. Charlotte knew him by sight, for she’d seen him leaving his house across the square earlier that evening, and a couple of times he’d driven by her as she was returning to their house, but they had never met in a formal way. She knew that for a moment he’d had the opportunity to look at her face in the streetlight—but had he seen enough to know her when she was dressed as a young lady of fashion? She could only hope that he had not taken much notice.

  ‘I hope no one will find out, for both our sakes,’ Matt said. ‘If Harding guessed it was my sister that took the necklace...he might kill me. Yet, you’re right, Charlie. He can’t know. No one can if we keep it to ourselves.’

  ‘I’m not about to tell anyone.’ She dimpled wickedly up at him, her eyes wide and innocent, but filled with mischief. ‘It’s over now, Matt. Go to bed and let me get some sleep. It’s that big ball tomorrow and I want to look my best. Unless I can find a husband poor Papa is going to lose everything.’

  ‘Why did he have to invest his money unwisely?’ Matt bemoaned the situation. ‘We were happy enough with what we had—but he thought that venture in the East would bring in a fortune for silks and spices, only the ship sank and all its cargo with it.’

  ‘And he didn’t think to insure it,’ Charlotte said. ‘Thankfully, Mama had some funds put by for my come out—and if I can find a rich husband he will settle Papa’s debts and all will be well.’

  ‘What about you?’ her brother asked, looking at her with dark brown eyes that were very like her own, except that hers were flecked with gold and his were simply dark. ‘Will you be happy taking a man just for his money? He may be years older and not at all handsome.’

  ‘Beggars cannot always choose,’ Charlotte said, sighing despite herself, because she had once dreamed of being swept off her feet by a tall dark prince who would carry her off to his castle and lavish her with love and gifts. ‘I shall hope for the best. And not all rich men are old and fat.’

  ‘No, I suppose there are a few eligible young men around, if you can find one. A man would be a fool not to marry you if he were rich and single.’

  ‘You are my brother and prejudiced in my favour.’ She gave a gurgle of laughter and then darted at him, giving him a peck on the cheek before pushing him towards the door. ‘Go, before we wake everyone and they come to see what’s going on. I want to get out of these things before anyone but you has the chance to see me.’

  Locking the door behind him, Charlotte went into her bedroom and glanced at herself in the long cheval mirror. A mischievous grin curved her mouth as she saw that she made a fetching youth. No one would know she was a girl unless they happened to touch her in the wrong places, which one of those horrid men had done. They hadn’t seemed to care whether she was a girl or a youth, but were intent on having their way with her in the park either way. And would have done had she not kneed one of them in his privates, leaving him yelling in anger and pain as she made it as far as the gates. However, they would probably have caught her again had it not been for the viscount—Captain Jack Delsey.

  Charlotte had known the name of the gentleman who came to her rescue almost from the first day they took up residence in the pleasant garden square. Her mama had been given a list of the residents of the square so that she might leave calling cards, however, she could not do so until they called on her for she was the newcomer. Papa might call if he so wished on the single gentlemen, of which there were two in residence at the moment. One was a widower with three children on a rare visit to town, the children left in the country with their maternal grandmother, and the other was the viscount. Papa had not yet called on either, though the widower had left his card and therefore Mama was preparing to invite him to a small card party she was arranging with her acquaintance in town. The viscount, meanwhile, was the grandson of the Marquis of Ellington and one of the best prizes on the matrimonial market. However, Mama had warned Charlotte not to set her hopes too high.

  ‘Captain Viscount Delsey is rather too far above us, dearest,’ she’d told Charlotte when they’d seen him drive up in a spanking rig of the firs
t order. ‘Quite charming I understand—but elusive. Some of the most beautiful girls in society have cast their lures at him, but he ignores them all. He is a rake, my love, and flirts with all the pretty girls, but never forms an attachment—or only clandestine ones. He would merely break your heart. Now Mr Harold Cavendish is another matter. He is in his early forties, still attractive and wealthy—and Mrs Featherstone told me that he is looking for a wife to care for his poor motherless children.’

  ‘A widower with three children, Mama?’ Charlotte pulled a face. ‘I think I would prefer someone who had not been previously married—we are not desperate just yet, are we?’

  ‘No, dearest, of course not. I do not wish to push you into anything that distresses you. Indeed, I wish this had not been necessary at all—but poor Papa is at his wits’ end, and if you do not marry to oblige us...’

  ‘But I shall, Mama,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘Please do not worry. There will be someone who is both rich and agreeable to me. I promise you, it will all come right in the end.’

  ‘My poor dear child,’ her mama said. ‘Had your aunt not sold those jewels we might have avoided this. You could have sold them to pay a part of Papa’s debt.’

  ‘I would gladly have done so,’ Charlotte assured her. ‘But they are worth very little. I must marry to advantage. I have made up my mind to it—and I shall not let you down.’

  Undressing and hiding the youth’s clothing at the bottom of one of her drawers, Charlotte reflected on that evening’s episode. Had she been caught and abused...it did not bear thinking about! If she’d been unmasked and her wicked act had been revealed, she would have been ruined and her family with her. It was no wonder that Matt had been terrified. He’d begged her not to consider such a mad escapade, but she’d overruled him, as she always had in the past. Her brother might be three years older, but she had the stronger will. It was she who ought to have been a boy for very little frightened her. Even the near-escape she’d had had not truly bothered her, only the fear of what might have happened.

  But it hadn’t and she refused to worry about what might have been. She’d recovered the fake necklace. Lord Harding could only blame himself for leaving the necklace on his dressing table before going off for the evening. Besides, he deserved no sympathy. Matt was certain he’d been cheated and was determined never to play cards with the man again.

  Charlotte was just going to forget all about it.

  * * *

  Mama had decided to leave cards at the homes of her acquaintances in town and wanted Charlotte to accompany her.

  ‘We shall not stay anywhere, but merely leave cards,’ Mama had told her. ‘On the way home we will visit the mantua maker and collect some rather lovely shawls I ordered from Madame Rousseau.’

  However, Mama’s plans did not go entirely as she anticipated, for at the first house they called, they encountered Lady Rushmore just as she was leaving and she begged them to come in and take some refreshment with her.

  ‘It is such an age since we met and I was going to call on you this afternoon,’ the lady said, insisting on sending for coffee and little almond cakes in the front parlour.

  They were soon joined by the lady’s son and daughter, who had come down to see why their mama had not gone shopping as she planned. Miss Amelia was a pretty, fair girl with a lisp and pouting lips, her hair hanging in ringlets about a heart-shaped face. Her brother Robert was tall, well built and dressed in the height of fashion, with shirt points so high he could scarcely turn his head. He seemed to spend most of his time preening before one of the gilt-framed mirrors, and when he did speak his conversation was of horses and his new phaeton.

  Miss Amelia laughed a lot and talked endlessly of her new clothes, which she was purchasing for her trousseau. She had recently become engaged and was interested in little but her wedding and clothes. Accustomed to talking of poetry and music with her brother, and of listening to Papa speaking in an entertaining way of the gentlemen he met and dined with at his clubs, Charlotte found herself longing to go home after just half an hour.

  However, just as she thought they might be ready to leave, a gentleman was announced as Sir Percival Redding. He was a man of perhaps five and thirty, brother to Lady Rushmore and of a florid complexion. His dark hair curled in a manner intended to be casual and his clothes were as elegant as his nephew’s, though slightly more wearable for his shirt points were not above average, and his coats were cut to allow for ease of movement. However, he had a pleasant manner and regaled the ladies with his tales of society.

  Somehow he ousted Amelia from her seat beside Charlotte and sat down to tell her the story of how he had recently dined with the Prince Regent at Brighton in the Pavilion.

  ‘’Pon my word, Miss Stevens, it must have been nigh on a hundred degrees. I felt I was melting and poor dear Lady Melrose fainted twice.’

  Charlotte had heard that the Regent liked his rooms over-warm, but was interested in all the details of the Pavilion, with its Chinese decoration and the towers that gave it the look of an Eastern Palace.

  * * *

  It was as Mama stood up to pull on her gloves some twenty minutes later, clearly intending to leave, that Sir Percival stood and bowed to Charlotte, as she too rose from the small sofa. His neck was a little pink as he bent over her hand and asked if she was going to Markham’s ball that evening.

  ‘Yes, we have been invited. It is my first ball in town, though I have been to the assemblies in Bath several times.’

  ‘I too shall be there,’ he said, smiling down at her. ‘May I hope that you will save me two dances, Miss Stevens? I prefer the country dances for I am not enamoured of the waltz—though I see no harm in it for others.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Charlotte replied easily. She quite liked the gentleman, for he was friendly and more entertaining than his relatives and she was grateful to know that she would not sit out at least two of the dances that evening. ‘I shall be very happy to reserve the first of the evening and the last country dance before supper.’

  ‘I shall now look forward to the evening,’ he promised, looking a little like the cat that had stolen the cream. ‘And if I may I shall claim you for supper.’

  Charlotte inclined her head and followed her mama from the house. It was only when they were inside the carriage that Mama turned to her with an approving look.

  ‘I am proud of you, Charlotte. Sir Percival was very taken with you. I saw it at once. I do not say it will lead to an offer immediately, but he would be a good choice. He was in the army for many years, my love, and never married, but Lady Rushmore told me she believes he is at last thinking of settling down. Would it not be a fine thing if you were married to the brother of one of my oldest friends? He is comfortable, you know. Perhaps not as rich as...’

  Charlotte’s mind drifted away as she glanced out of the window, watching the fashionable ladies and gentlemen promenading in the busy streets. The morning had flown and they would have time only to collect their shawls before returning home for nuncheon.

  Mama was still droning on about how fortunate it was that they should meet her friend, as she was driving away, and Charlotte managed to stifle her sigh. She supposed that Mama must review every gentleman they encountered as a possible husband for her daughter, but she wished she would not jump to the idea of marriage so swiftly. It was not that she disliked Sir Percival. Indeed, she would prefer him to the father of three motherless children, but Charlotte was still hoping for more. Surely she was entitled to a little romance before she settled for marriage?

  * * *

  When they were set down outside their lodgings in the fashionable square, she shook out the folds of her gown and walked into the house a little ahead of her mother. She stopped abruptly as she saw her father; he was bidding farewell to a gentleman, who had clearly been visiting while they were out.

  Charlotte’s
heart caught with a mixture of shock and pleasure, for it was the viscount, and mixed with the relief that he had at last called on them was the fear that he might recognise her from the previous night.

  ‘Ah, Charlotte my dear.’ Her father’s warm deep voice reached out to her. ‘You have returned just in time to meet Captain Viscount Delsey—he lives in the house opposite, just across the square, and kindly called on me this morning to invite us all to a dinner and cards one evening next week. Sir, this is my daughter, Charlotte.’

  Charlotte took off her bonnet and shook out her long dark ringlets, extending her hand towards their visitor as she dipped gracefully. ‘I am delighted to meet you, sir, and sorry we were out all morning.’

  ‘No matter,’ he murmured, lifting her hand to drop an air kiss just fractionally above the soft leather glove. ‘I was happy to meet your father—and your charming brother. Matthew is to attend a card party with me another evening, but I believe we are all promised to Lord Markham this evening.’

  ‘Yes, we are looking forward to it,’ she said, her heart fluttering as he gave her an intent look before releasing her hand. She glanced down, her long lashes hiding the fluttering emotions inside her. Could he possibly have recognised her from that brief glance the previous night—or was it just her guilt that made her think his gaze narrowed in speculation?

  ‘As am I,’ he replied gallantly. ‘Will you grant me the privilege of a dance for this evening—preferably a waltz? I trust you do waltz, Miss Stevens?’

  ‘Yes, Captain Delsey, I do and I shall,’ she replied, demurely. ‘I have waltzed in Bath several times, and in town, with the approval of Lady Jersey, who is a great friend of Mama’s and granted me vouchers for Almack’s. I am older than I look, you see.’