A Country Miss in Hanover Square Page 7

  ‘I shall fetch you a glass of champagne and some thing to eat,’ he told her. ‘What will you have?’

  ‘Just a syllabub, if it is no trouble,’ Susannah said and smiled when he replied that it was no trouble at all.

  As he went off to fetch their supper, she glanced around the room. Seeing a gentleman enter, her heart did a funny little skip. It surprised her, because until this moment she had not realised that she had missed seeing him these past couple of days. Lord Pendleton had arrived late, it seemed, because the duchess went up to him and seemed to berate him, tapping him with her fan and then nodding her approval at some thing he said. He glanced towards Susannah, appeared to frown and turned back to his hostess. He would in the past have smiled or inclined his head to her and the neglect was oddly hurtful. Susannah looked away, but he did not seem to notice, for he was deeply engaged in conversation.

  Northaven had returned with her syllabub when Lord Pendleton glanced her way again. Susannah saw the disapproval in his eyes as the marquis handed her a glass of champagne and set a little tray on the table. Remembering his warning and those of her mother and Amelia once more, she felt uneasy. It might have been wiser not to allow the marquis to escort her to supper, but there could be no real harm in it.

  ‘You do not eat?’ Susannah asked, for he had brought only her syllabub and a bottle of champagne.

  ‘I seldom eat much at these affairs,’ Northaven told her. ‘Try your champagne, Miss Hampton. I managed to find a bottle—one glass is never enough, is it?’ He sipped his own glass, nodding in approval as Susannah drank hers. ‘I see you like champagne,’ he said and refilled her glass. ‘You have excellent taste, for it is the Queen of the grape.’

  ‘I used to giggle when the bubbles went up my nose,’ Susannah confessed and laughed. ‘But I am used to it now, and, yes, I do like it.’ She seldom drank more than one glass, but it was making her feel warm and pleasant and she did not demur when he refilled her glass once more. However, by the time she had drunk a few sips of that, she had begun to feel too warm and fanned herself. ‘It is so hot in here this evening, do you not think so?’

  ‘Indeed, you are right,’ Northaven said. ‘Would you care for a stroll on the terrace, Miss Hampton? You will not wish to be too warm when the dancing begins again.’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Susannah said. She did feel as if she needed a little air and had quite forgot the apprehension she had felt when he took her hand earlier. Her head was a little fuzzy and she could not think clearly. She stood up and went out of the French door, feeling that she needed some air, hardly noticing whether he was following her. Her head was spinning and she felt odd, though she did not know why. She walked along the terrace, and then down the three steps that led to the lawns. She had expected the air to make her feel better, but instead she had be gun to experience some sickness in her stomach and her instinct drove her towards the shrubbery where she could vomit, if need be.

  Feeling oddly light-headed, she did not even remember the marquis until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she stared at him in a daze, hardly knowing or understanding what was going on. She was beginning to feel decidedly unwell. Surely two glasses of champagne should not have affected her so badly?

  She tried to focus as the marquis came towards her, but his face was a blur. She blinked, because she felt that she might faint at any moment.

  ‘My beautiful darling…’ Northaven’s voice sounded peculiar, perhaps because her head was whirling ‘…how clever of you to find somewhere we can be alone. I have been wanting to do this ever since I saw you.’

  Susannah made a murmur of protest as he reached for her. The last thing she wanted was to be kissed at this moment! She held up her hands as if to ward him off, but her head was swimming.

  ‘No! No, you should not…’ she cried as his face loomed large in front of her and she knew what he intended. She put up a struggle, but it was in effectual because she hardly had the strength to stand up, let alone defend herself. ‘Please, do not—’

  Her protest was in vain, for Northaven’s greedy mouth fastened over hers, his tongue probing at hers in an attempt to make her open to him. She became aware of his hands at her breasts, moving beneath the satin and lace of her expensive gown, touching her flesh. Suddenly, she was aware of danger and, gathering all her strength, pushed him away and screamed.

  ‘Be quiet, you little fool,’ he muttered, holding her arms, his fingers bruising her tender flesh.

  Susannah’s head was whirling as she struggled to break free of Northaven, but she was feeling so ill and dizzy that she knew she could not fight him. All at once she felt him move sharply away from her, as if he had been jerked back. She stared hazily at the little scene played out before her eyes, hardly knowing what was happening because she felt so sick and dizzy.

  ‘Take your hands from her, Northaven! She is not some country cit’s daughter you can ruin. Miss Hampton is a lady and innocent, and you are taking foul ad vantage!’

  ‘You mistake the matter,’ Northaven drawled. ‘I assure you the little innocent brought me here with no prompting. She was willing at the start, even if she did take fright.’

  ‘Damn you! You insult an honourable lady!’ Harry Pendleton said angrily. ‘Take your hands from her this instant or you will answer to me.’

  ‘I am prepared to—’ Northaven began, but at that moment Susannah made a gurgling sound and then lurched towards him, the vomit bursting out of her mouth and spraying in his direction. ‘Good grief!’ He jerked back in disgust, a look of horror in his eyes as some of the vile-smelling liquid splashed on his shoes. ‘She is ill. Take care of her, Pendleton. I swear, I had no idea…’

  As Northaven beat a hasty retreat towards the house, Harry took hold of Susannah’s arm. ‘You are unwell,’ he said gently. ‘You had best come and sit down.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ Susannah wailed and jerked away from him to be sick behind a bush once more. Harry waited until she had finished and then handed her a large white kerchief. He watched as she wiped her mouth. She was about to hand the kerchief to him, then looked at it and crumpled the fine lawn in her hand. She felt like weeping, and his shoulder looked so broad and dependable. She found herself laying her head against it, her tears soaking into his pristine coat. After a moment, her distress subsided and she drew away from his supporting arm. ‘I am so sorry. I will have the kerchief washed.’

  ‘Do not trouble yourself,’ Harry said. ‘Keep it until you feel better and then give it to me. I shall dispose of it. Sit here on this bench for a few moments until you recover.’

  Susannah’s head was beginning to clear. She looked at him uncertainly, feeling a little unwell and ashamed. ‘I do not know what happened,’ she said. ‘I drank two glasses of champagne, but…would they have made me ill?’

  ‘I do not think it,’ he said. ‘Something may have been slipped into your glass. I did try to warn you, Miss Hampton. Northaven is known for his misdeeds. You would not be the first young woman he has seduced and led astray, though the first gentle woman to my knowledge. He normally chooses country wenches or the daughters of merchants, I believe. I cannot say for certain that he drugged your drink, for I did not see him do it, but I think it may be so. I would never be surprised at anything that rogue did!’

  ‘Oh…’ Susannah gave a cry of distress. Her cheeks stung with humiliation as she realised what might have happened to her. ‘You think me so foolish. I have been foolish, but he was…exciting. I enjoyed the idea of…an adventure.’ A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek. ‘Is that so very silly of me? I have always dreamed of a knight who would sweep me off and ride away to his castle—’ She stopped in dismay as she realised what she had said. ‘Now you will think me very stupid. I should have put away such childish dreams, should I not? It is all very well for children to dream, but the real world is not like that, of course. You are so very sensible—you must despise my foolish ness.’

  ‘Dreams are pleasant at ti
mes. We all have them when we are younger,’ Harry said, a little smile on his mouth. ‘But men like Northaven are not to be trusted. He is a ruthless rogue and would use you for his pleasure. You would be unwise to trust men of his ilk.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Susannah said in a small voice. She felt so ashamed! ‘I must thank you for coming to my rescue, sir.’

  ‘Do not look so ashamed,’ Harry told her gently. ‘Northaven was at fault, not you. You would not have behaved so recklessly had he not given you that champagne—and perhaps some kind of a drug. I shall not scold you, Miss Hampton. I think you have learned your lesson.’

  ‘The school master…’ Susannah said and laughed. She blushed as he looked at her, for she could never tell him of her dream. ‘I beg your pardon. I do not quite know what I am saying.’

  ‘I think I should fetch your mama,’ Harry said. ‘Unless you feel well enough to go back to the ballroom?’

  ‘I should like to go upstairs and wash my face,’ Susannah told him. She was feeling better, but not yet ready to return to the dancing. ‘Would you tell Mama that I am unwell, please? I think I should like to go home.’

  ‘Yes, of course, that may be for the best,’ Harry said. ‘We will allow everyone to think you were simply taken ill—there need be no scandal.’

  ‘You are very good, sir.’ He was being so kind and she felt so embarrassed, so foolish.

  ‘Not a bit of it,’ Harry said. ‘Let us return now. You must go to the room provided for your comfort, and I shall speak to your mama.’

  Susannah got to her feet. She was still feeling a little shaky and felt glad of his arm. When they reached the house, she entered by one of the French doors and slipped quietly away to the bedchambers. It was not until she reached the one provided for the ladies to tidy them selves that she realised she still had Lord Pendleton’s kerchief. It was stained and smelly, but she slipped it inside her reticule. She would have it washed before she returned it to him.

  She was feeling a little better, having washed her face and tidied her gown, by the time her mother arrived. Mrs Hampton looked at her anxiously.

  ‘Lord Pendleton told me that you were unwell in the garden, my love?’

  ‘Yes, I was sick—twice, in fact,’ Susannah said. ‘I do not know what made me feel so ill, Mama. I am be ginning to feel better, but I think I should like to go home, if you will take me?’

  ‘Yes, of course, dearest,’ Mrs Hampton said. ‘I do hope you are not sickening for some thing, Susannah. You were doing so well, enjoying yourself…’

  ‘I am sure it will pass,’ Susannah said. She could not tell Mama what had happened, for it would distress her! ‘Perhaps it is some thing I ate.’ She had actually eaten hardly anything all day. She wondered if that might be the reason the champagne had gone to her head like that—unless the Marquis of Northaven had deliberately tried to drug her so that he could seduce her. ‘We need not disturb Amelia, if you will take me home, Mama.’

  ‘Amelia has already ordered the carriage,’ her mother assured her. ‘She was concerned as soon as Lord Pendleton came to tell us you were not well.’

  ‘I am sorry to have spoiled the evening for you both,’ Susannah said, feeling guilty. It was her foolishness in trusting a man she had been warned against that had led her astray. She should have listened to her mama and would make certain that she did not repeat her mistake! Instinctively, she knew that her ordeal could have been much worse had Lord Pendleton not come to her rescue.

  ‘Nonsense, my love. We shall go home and hope that you are better by the morning.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Susannah replied and followed her mother down stairs. Lord Pendleton was talking to Amelia and looked at her with concern. Susannah could not meet his gaze, for she knew he must think her so foolish. He had come to her rescue so gallantly! In deed, he had been more like the knight of her dreams than the marquis, who had used her so shame fully.

  Her mind was confused and she was in some distress as she sought her bed. Lord Pendleton would have lost all respect for her—and she had come to realise that she liked him far more than she had imagined. However, he would think her foolish beyond anything and she would do best to avoid both him and the marquis if she could….

  Harry frowned as he sat in the library at his town house later that evening, brandy glass in hand, staring at nothing in particular as he thought about the incident with Northaven. The man was a menace and deserved to be taught a lesson. Had Susannah not been so ill, he would have challenged the insolent marquis to a duel or simply thrashed him in the garden. He would be well within his rights to take a horse whip to the rogue! No gentleman would be have so badly towards a well-bred young lady.

  Harry had tackled Northaven about it before he left the Morlands’ home that evening, but the marquis had insisted that Susannah had drunk two and a half glasses of champagne and that he had done nothing except follow her to the shrubbery.

  ‘Damn it all, Pendleton. If I intended her harm, I’d hardly choose the ball of the year. It would be easy enough to run off with her, I dare say.’

  ‘Are you implying that she is of easy virtue?’ Harry bristled at the suggestion.

  ‘Dash it, no! Don’t be a fool. If we fight over her, she will lose her reputation. The kiss was an impulse. I had no idea she was feeling ill. I thought she meant me to make love to her.’ Something had flickered in Northaven’s eyes. Harry Pendleton was acknowledged as the best shot in London and a man would have to have a death wish to enter a duel with him! ‘As you said, she is a lady of quality, though unfortunately little fortune.’

  ‘Some would consider her dowry adequate. A gentleman would offer marriage after the way you behaved, Northaven!’

  ‘I might consider it—but I need a substantial heiress or a run of luck at the tables. I have overdone it of late and must recoup my losses.’

  ‘Then you should not have embarrassed her. If I hear a word of this spoken in the clubs, I shall thrash you!’

  ‘I dare say you would try—but you have my word that it remains our secret. I apologise for my be ha vi our. I did not realise I was treading on your toes, Pendleton. If I’d known you were interested, I would not have taken her into the garden.’

  Harry had accepted his explanation, because to call him out over the incident would cause a scandal and that might damage Susannah. To bring her harm was the last thing Harry wanted. He was developing an interest in Susannah—she was just so unlike any woman he’d ever met. The few days he had spent in the country had resolved nothing, except his neighbour’s problems. Harry had cleverly managed to buy a worth less piece of land for a large amount of money, because it adjoined his park and he had told General Harlow that he wanted to build a lake. The general had probably not been fooled for one instant, but the face-saving gesture had been much appreciated.

  Returning to town as swiftly as he could, Harry had put in a belated appearance at the Duchess of Morland’s ball in the hope of seeing Susannah. He had seen her leave the supper room with Northaven, and, feeling that she might find herself in trouble, had followed them out. When he heard her scream he went to her rescue at once, no thought of anything but her safety in his mind. Seeing her ill and wretched aroused his desire to protect her—he hated to see anyone in trouble, and, as spirited and in de pen dent as Susannah appeared, she was still innocent to the ways of London society.

  She had been subdued, of course, but she had spoken of wanting excitement—an adventure. He supposed Northaven must seem a dashing fellow to young ladies.

  Clearly Susannah did not find him exciting! Though he had no plans to settle down as yet, he’d like to think a beautiful woman like Susannah might at least show a spark of interest in him. Harry nursed his brandy ruefully. He knew that his manner might seem serious, even for bid ding some times. He had not begun well by warning her about the marquis, and she would probably resent the fact that his warning had been necessary. Susannah had felt foolish and guilty, a look of shame in her eyes as they talked afterwar
ds. He had tried to reassure her, for he had not meant to scold, only to reassure.

  Was he really as stern and for bid ding as all that? There had been a time when he’d cut enough larks, behaved as wildly as any young man, and had attracted the attentions of many attractive and avail able young ladies, but that was before he joined the army and learned the nature of war. Watching your friends die in agony was a sobering experience, and when his elder brother died suddenly of a fever and his father was taken ill, Harry had come home to try to save the family estate. Before Harry’s brother Alan had died, he had managed to gamble away a large portion of the family wealth. It had taken some years of hard work to restore the estate to its former sub stance and amass the fortune he now possessed. A fortune that grew steadily as the months passed.

  Harry had become respected, popular, especially amongst the sporting community, because of his prowess at fencing, shooting, driving and riding. However, most of his friends were his own age, sensible men who had known the horrors of war and, like him, were intent on making their estates secure. They would find no fault in his manner, but he was afraid that he had become dull, his time given too much to building the business that had brought him his fortune. The fact that he was prepared to indulge in trade was some thing that he had managed to hide from all but a few, for it would be frowned on by many. However, he now owned a flourishing import business, dealing in fine wines.

  He would have to ask Toby his opinion. Harry was in the habit of offering his nephew advice, but the lad had never appeared to resent it. Indeed, Toby strove to gain his good opinion and was bent on following in his foot steps. Harry had never been given cause to imagine that he had become staid or boring, and it had shocked him. How could he expect a lively young lady like Miss Hampton to feel anything for him? He was several years older, and, while that in itself was not a barrier, if his manner had given her a dislike for him…