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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.’
She saw an answering gleam of humour in his eyes, his brows rising to tease her. ‘I would hazard a guess at eighteen?’
‘I am more than nineteen,’ she murmured in a soft voice. ‘It is my size, you understand. People think because I am petite I must be younger.’
‘Ah, such a great age,’ he murmured. ‘One would think you hardly above fourteen if one saw you briefly from a distance...’ His eyes held a look of mocking amusement that made her heart thud rapidly.
Was he hinting that he had recognised the urchin of the previous evening? Her gaze fell away in confusion for she was unsure how to reply.
Fortunately, her mama had entered the house, and, after taking off her shawls, bonnet and gloves, looked expectantly towards the viscount. The introductions were made and Charlotte was able to move on towards the stairs. She was about to climb them, when she heard herself addressed and turned once more to see that the viscount had spoken directly to her.
‘I was wondering if you and Lady Stevens would like to drive to Richmond with me on Friday, Miss Stevens? My sister, Lady Sally Harrison, has got up a picnic to watch a balloon ascension and she asked me to bring some friends with me. I have invited two gentlemen, who will ride—but there is room in my curricle for both of you.’
‘We should enjoy that very much,’ Mama answered for her. ‘It is kind of you, sir—and your cousin. We are not yet acquainted with Lady Harrison.’
‘Then I shall remedy that this evening,’ he promised, bowed deeply to her and sent Charlotte a knowing smile before leaving.
‘Well, what a charming young man,’ Lady Stevens said as she followed her daughter to the landing above. ‘I hardly dared to hope that he would call on us. I expected we might meet in company, but to call on your father shows true consideration, my dear.’
‘So you approve of him now, Mama,’ Charlotte said, struggling not to laugh. ‘Why, only the other day you called him a hardened rake—I’m sure you did.’
‘I did not think then that he would pay you the least attention,’ her mother said sharply. ‘You are a pretty girl, Charlotte. No one could deny that, but you have little fortune to recommend you and I do not expect every gentleman we meet to fall at your feet. That is why you must make the most of your chances...not that I am suggesting the viscount is a chance for you. Charming as he may be, I do not expect an offer from him.’
Charlotte turned away without answering. She suspected that Captain Viscount Delsey had called this morning to discover whether his suspicions concerning her were correct. Had he seen her prior to that escapade last night? Or had he somehow seen her return to her home in the early hours of the morning?
She had not dared to hire a cab, walking swiftly through the streets and keeping to the shadows as much as possible. However, if he had done so, he might have arrived at the same time as she did, if perhaps he’d delayed his return for some minutes before taking the cab. Charlotte was almost sure he knew the young urchin he’d rescued had been her in disguise, but she would deny it if he asked. It would be too risky to admit where she’d been and what she’d done that evening.
He had seemed to be amused. She could only hope that he would not betray her secret, as it could ruin her family.
Alone in her room, Charlotte glanced in the mirror. There was a sparkle in her eyes that she did not think had been there earlier. She sensed a challenge ahead and a hint of danger, for the viscount was a flirt and a rake and she had done something that might make him think she was careless of her reputation.
Supposing he tried to take advantage of his knowledge? Her stomach clenched with nerves, because she knew that one hint of what she’d done the previous night would ruin her.
Surely, Captain Delsey was too much the man of honour to tell anyone else what he knew?
Perhaps if she had a chance that evening, she could appeal to his sense of chivalry. But what excuse could she give? To tell him that she’d stolen back a necklace given by her brother in payment of a debt was shameful and would destroy any lingering good opinion he had of her and her dearest Matt. Yet what else could she tell him?
Try as she might, Charlotte could not think of an excuse that would not make her seem either wanton or dishonest. All she could do was to hope that he would keep her secret without being asked.
* * *
It was a long afternoon for Charlotte. Mama insisted that she spend most of it resting, and, though she had taken a book to her room, for some reason her mind would not follow the story of romance and adventure in pages of Fanny Burney’s novel. Instead, she found herself reliving the moment when Captain Delsey had saved her from the drunken gentlemen. His quick action had been decisive and she would have liked to thank him at once, but had felt the best course for her to follow was to disappear as swiftly as she could. Thankfully, the remainder of her journey home had been uneventful. She’d hoped it could all be forgotten, but now the hideous thought that one careless word from Delsey could destroy her chances of a good marriage lay heavy on her conscience.
Mama was relying on Charlotte to ease her father’s burden of debt. For that she must marry a man of consequence and wealth, but most of the aristocracy were rather starchy as regards reputation and behaviour; the merest hint of scandal attached to a young lady’s name would ruin her chances of a good marriage. What Charlotte had done was so outrageous that, if it were discovered, she would be an outcast from society.
Matt had warned her against her mad escapade, but nothing would have persuaded her. It was not her brother’s fault, though if he had not confessed to her she might not have discovered the necklace had gone for weeks. He had not been able to live with the guilt of stealing from his own sister, and, when told that the necklace was fake, confessed the whole. Charlotte had been determined to save her family from the scandal that would have resulted from such a fraud and her headstrong courage had led her to act without truly thinking of the consequences.
As a tiny child she’d followed wherever her brother led, climbing trees, swimming in the shallows of the river near their home wearing only her drawers and petticoat, and being beaten for her wickedness more than once. She’d ridden well from the age of three, joining the hunt when she was thirteen, and successfully ridden any horse her brother could master, throwing her heart over as she cleared fences three times her height. Matt told everyone she was fearless and their wild pranks were often at her instigation as they grew into their teenage years. Mama had taken her in hand when she was sixteen, insisting that she must behave like a lady if she wanted a Season in town, and so she had given up her tomboy behaviour—until the previous night when she’d climbed into a man’s bedchamber and retrieved the fake necklace.
Only now did Charlotte understand that this was not one of the childish pranks she’d shared with her brother. She was a thief. Even though the necklace was her own, Matt had pledged it in settlement of a debt. A gambling debt, and one that might have been incurred as a result of her brother being cheated, was not like a proper debt to a tradesman, Charlotte told herself, to ease her guilt. Lord Harding was known to be a hard gambler; some whispered he fleeced young gentlemen who were not up to all the tricks played on them by card sharps who treated them as plump pigeons, ripe for the plucking.
If Matt was right and he’d been cheated the night he fell so deeply in debt that he’d been driven to take her necklace, then Lord Harding deserved to be robbed of his ill-gotten gains. And yet she could not help feeling that she had done something shameful.
There was no point in thinking about it, she could not give the necklace back, but must be careful never to wear it anywhere it might be seen by a man who might recognise it as his property.
Charlotte pushed the worrying thoughts out of her mind. She’d been seen climbing from the window after retrieving that necklace, but only by a couple of very inebriated gentlemen—and one possibly sober one who had looked into her face for the merest second. She could only hope that Delsey would not put two and two together and make five.
Chapter Three (#ulink_7ab9f7ab-6164-52ac-8391-e6cc78b97a6e)
So what had Miss Charlotte Stevens been up to the previous night? Had she been trying to pull the wool over his eyes by telling him she was more than nineteen years of age? Her manner had been demure enough, but something in the lift of her head told him that she was full of spirit and very likely to have been out late at night on some mad prank dressed in her brother’s outgrown clothes. If indeed it had been she, he was inclined to be amused and to like her for it. Jack was wary of the kind of female that swooned at every convenient moment and tried to trap a man into marriage, as he had reason enough to be. He had been relentlessly pursued since his first appearance on the town.
Jack pondered the puzzle as he dressed for the evening in a coat of blue superfine made by Weston that fitted his shoulders like a second skin. For riding Jack liked a little more room in his coats, but for evening it was imperative that the cut should be superb and his valet must naturally help him into it. His pantaloons of cream fitted perfectly, his cravat was expertly tied by his own hand, though it would not rival the intricacy of those who had mastered Mr Brummell’s excellence in the art, but the pin was a diamond of the first water. On the little finger of his right hand he wore a magnificent diamond set in heavy gold.
Satisfied with his appearance, Jack thanked his valet, advised him not to sit up, knowing full well that Cummings would ignore the order if he gave it. He walked down the stairs just as the door opened to admit his Aunt Seraphina and her daughter Julia.
‘Ah, we are in time,’ Aunt Seraphina said, looking pleased with herself. ‘Jack, I must beg a favour of you. You will escort your cousin to the ball this evening, will you not? I must return home at once for your uncle is down with a chill and no one but I can handle him when he is ill.’
‘Aunt...’ Jack protested, thrown off balance by the unexpected change to his plans. ‘My uncle could surely spare you for a few hours—and Julia really should not go without her mama.’
‘Please credit me with a little intelligence.’ His aunt fixed him with a beady eye. ‘If you promise to look after your cousin and make sure she doesn’t dance too often with any particular gentleman—or with an undesirable acquaintance—I can look after your poor Uncle David. If this chill goes to his chest...’
‘If my uncle is truly ill, then you must stay with him, but surely Julia would be best at home with you and her father.’
‘Don’t be so mean,’ Julia wailed, her pretty face screwing into an awful pout. ‘What trouble can it be to you to escort me this evening? Mama’s best friend, Lady Meadows, will be there and I may join her party once we are there, but I cannot turn up without an escort.’
Jack sighed inwardly, knowing that his own plans for the evening must be shelved. Julia would do well enough with Lady Meadows and her bevy of three rather plump daughters, but she would need an escort home, which meant his plans to leave early with friends and go on to a gambling club would be ended.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I suppose I must take you, brat, but do not expect me to dance with you all evening.’
‘You must dance with me once,’ Julia said, but she was smiling now, having gained her way. ‘Thank you, dearest Jack.’ She took his arm and hugged him, bringing a frown from her mama.
‘Remember your decorum, Julia,’ she warned. ‘Jack, I rely on you to look after this child for me.’
‘Yes, Aunt,’ Jack said. ‘I suppose Cousin Reginald was unable to oblige?’
‘Your cousin has his duties in the House, which he takes very seriously—and he may be late for they are sitting over an important bill this evening.’
‘Of course.’ Jack smothered his desire to retort that his cousin took both himself and his duties too seriously. Reginald was the personal secretary to the Prime Minister and one would think from his weighty manner and the way he gave his opinions on matters of State that he was himself meant for high office. ‘Go home and take care of my uncle, Seraphina. Julia will come to no harm with me.’
‘Thank you, dear Jack,’ Julia said and hugged his arm once more as her mama disappeared in a whirl of satin skirts and lace petticoats. ‘You are a darling.’
Seraphina was his Uncle David’s second wife, at least twenty years his junior and still an attractive woman. Her daughter, Julia, was their only child, for she had lost two other babies, and since there was already an heir to Lord Handley’s estate in Reginald, they had given up trying for more. Jack knew that his uncle’s constitution was far from robust and could therefore understand why his wife fussed over a mere chill.
‘Behave yourself this evening,’ Jack said, but the smile in his eyes denied the brusque tone of his voice as he added, ‘And stop ruining the sleeve of my coat. I’ll have you know it took ten minutes to get me into it and I’m not going to change because of your childish behaviour.’
Julia’s eyes took fire and she sparked with wrath as she removed her hand from his arm. ‘I’ll have you know I’m eighteen next week—and I’ve had three proposals of marriage this month.’
‘Only three?’ He quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘Does my aunt know?’
‘Of course not. You are not to tell her, Jack!’
‘What do you take me for?’ he drawled. ‘If I were your brother I would put you over my knee and spank you...’
‘But you’re only my cousin and it wouldn’t be proper, so you can’t,’ she crowed and laughed, realising that he was teasing her. Her eyes sparked with laughter. ‘It’s such fun, Jack. At least two of them were fortune hunters. Not that my fortune is so very large, but I suppose twenty thousand pounds and the estate Aunt Tilly left me is a great deal if you are in the suds...anything to keep them out of debtors’ gaol, I imagine.’
‘Where did you get such ideas?’ Jack asked. ‘Your tongue will lead you astray if you’re not careful.’
Julia gave a trill of laughter. ‘Only with you, Jack dearest. I can say what I like to you. Naturally, I would not say such a thing in society—but it’s fun leading them on, knowing that they only want my money.’
‘You are a cruel minx,’ he retorted. ‘Just make sure you don’t go too far. Some gentlemen are not really very nice if you scratch the surface. Be careful, Julia. Lead some of them on and you might end up getting hurt. Besides, you will get yourself a reputation as a flirt and then the right sort of gentleman—the kind you truly want—will not look at you as the proper material for marriage.’
Julia pouted at him as the footman opened the door of his carriage and Jack handed her in and then climbed in beside her. She waited until he had settled before turning to look at him.
‘I only let them go so far, Jack. I wouldn’t do anything foolish—but when they try to take advantage of a young girl, well, I think they deserve to look foolish. I would never hurt anyone I liked.’
‘You are an innocent.’ Jack looked at her seriously. ‘But just be careful. I would not want to see you hurt.’
‘Yes, I know what you mean. I am careful...but if a gentleman tries to persuade me to meet him in the gardens later at night and will not take no for an answer, it seems good to me to leave him waiting.’
Jack laughed shortly. ‘In that case, I would agree, but take care whom you tease, cousin. There are some that might try to take a nasty revenge.’
‘I shall,’ she said. ‘You mustn’t worry about me, Jack. If ever I think someone is really threatening me, I shall come and tell my big strong cousin all about it.’
* * *
Charlotte looked at her dance card and felt a tiny thrill of excitement. They had arrived twenty minutes earlier and already more than half of the spaces on her dance card were taken and the music had just started for the first set of country dances. She moved towards the ballroom itself and was greeted on the threshold by Sir Percival, who had come in search of her.
‘I saw you earlier,’ he greeted her with a smile, ‘but you were surrounded by eager young men. I trust you have not forgotten our dances, Miss Stevens?’
‘Certainly not,’ Charlotte said, laughing up at him. ‘I never forget a promise, sir. You also have the last country dance before supper.’
‘I think I was fortunate to secure them this morning,’ he said and took her hand, leading her towards a group of young people making up the sets for the first dance. ‘I believe you will be much in demand this evening, Miss Stevens.’
Charlotte accepted her place in the line just as the music began and they all joined hands for the first few steps, before forming into two lines, the gentleman on one side, his partner on the other and another lady beside him. The lines came together in the middle, then broke apart, the promised couples taking each other’s hands to promenade down the line and rejoin it. A similar movement was performed and this time a gentleman crossed to the next lady on the line and the promenade was resumed. It meant that everyone eventually had a chance to dance with everyone else and was the first of a lively set of three dances before the music stopped and the lady’s original partner escorted her from the floor.
