Lord Sidley's Last Season Read online

  She thought with some impatience that he no doubt knew very well how he looked-and wished to look more so.

  “There is always Mr. Thomas Lawrence-” she began.

  “I am not that vain, Miss Ware” His gaze, which she noticed was vividly blue, laughed at her, such that she could not prevent the pert thought that he seemed vain enough.

  His fine eyebrows arched. “D’you know, Miss Ware, you have such a remarkably expressive face, I believe I might guess at your thoughts” As her color rose, he added, “Though perhaps not. In any event, I have decided against Lawrence. I do not seek embellishment, merely a record.”

  “You are also a student of the arts, my lord?”

  “Indeed, Miss Ware. Though my talent is, alas, simple appreciation. But I am fortunate to possess a family collection of some quality. Perhaps one day you might pardon me, Lord Formsby might allow me to introduce you to it.” He seemed only then to become conscious of the crowd around them. “How they do gawk,” he remarked flatly.

  “You have just insured they have something at which to gawk”

  Again his laughing gaze turned to her. “You reprove me?”

  “My lord, I beg your pardon-”

  “Do not apologize. It does not suit you-as it suits Mr. Pinxton.” He surveyed the crowd again. “Society is an ill-trained beast, Miss Ware, that must be tugged into line now and then, like a hound upon a leash”

  “And you would do the tugging, Lord Sidley?”

  He laughed. “I decided some time ago ‘twas far better to entertain than to crave entertainment.” He tapped his cane lightly upon the floor. “Well, ‘tis only an interlude. We are the miracle of the moment, to be supplanted, I assure you, by supper time.” And while Marian was reflecting that he, at least, was most unlikely to be supplanted in so short a time, his gaze moved beyond her. “Ah, fair Lady Katherine..

  Marian heard the speculation in his voice, and wondered if Sidley had some particular interest in Katie. Certainly his attention focused on her with a measuring regard. For all her cousin’s beauty and liveliness, Marian had never once felt envious of her. But, given Sidley’s close scrutiny, she was uncomfortably aware that the emotion now threatened. With that disturbing recognition, Marian watched Sidley bow to her cousin.

  “I must take my leave, Miss Ware. Do not forget that Pinxton awaits your orders. I suspect he will be most eager to oblige you.”

  “But”-Marian glanced in some confusion at the open volume-“but what do you wish, my lord?”

  “I wish what you wish, Miss Ware,” he said, smiling as he held her gaze. Then he was strolling away-how he managed that while hiding a limp, she could not fathom-and was soon lost in the crowd.

  “Oh, Marian!” Katie gushed, reaching her and taking her arm. “I could not believe it! You were speaking with Sidley!”

  “Yes.” Though what had passed seemed somewhat more than speaking. “Yes,” she repeated without enthusiasm.

  “If I did not know you very well, Marian,” Katie said slyly, “I might think you very naughty!”

  “Do not speak so, Katie. You never used to”

  And Katie had the good grace to bite her lip. But she still wanted to know what had been said, which Marian described as mere pleasantries. In all truthfulness, though, she had to acknowledge that Lord Sidley had distinguished Katie by describing her as “fair.”

  “Really?” Katie asked archly, which Marian found she could not quite like. She had to attribute her cousin’s surprise to Sidley’s acknowledgment, because Katie had always accepted the fact. Given her pale golden curls, lovely green eyes, and engaging, vivacious manner, she was well used to attention and praise.

  Katie had come inside merely to collect Marian, as Hatchards’s riches held little to distract her, the more so once she realized that Lord Sidley and his company had left the premises. In any event, Lady Formsby awaited them in the carriage. Marian did remember to let a relieved Mr. Pinxton know that the volume in question would suit Lord Sidley admirably; she had determined that such a book would grace any gentleman’s library, and that Sidley should be made to pay for his folly in charging her with a decision.

  Katie relayed an enthusiastic report to her mother of Marian’s encounter, concluding with the bold claim that she had decided to invite Lord Sidley to her ball.

  Lady Formsby ignored the comment and turned her attention to Marian.

  “What did you think of him, then, my dear?” she asked. “Have his manners improved? ‘Tis unusual that he should have spoken to you, much less tasked a stranger in such a way”

  “He is a most … curious gentleman.”

  “‘Curious’?” Katie scoffed. “Surely you cannot mean you find anything to disapprove in him?”

  “I am hardly in a position to disapprove of Lord Sidley, Katie. But, no, I believe … that there is something rather perplexing about him. And that perhaps … well, I believe that perhaps he meant to be kind, Aunt,” Marian said, with sudden understanding, though she did not explain.

  “‘Kind’?” In the evening dimness inside the carriage Marian could feel Edith’s frown. “Did you think he looked well?”

  “Well? Oh, yes. Very.” She blushed, remembering how very well he had looked in that fine coat. “He looked very … well”

  “But did you not notice his pallor, Marian?”

  “Indeed, he did look very pale. But I assumed that he must not be outdoors much yet, because of his-his cane. His limp, ma’am.” In the resulting silence she sensed something unwelcome. “Do you suggest more, Edith?”

  “Without question there is more, Marian, as I have it from his aunt, Lady Adeline, that for the past month Sidley has been treating night as day and involving himself in the most regrettable excesses of dissipation.”

  “I do not care, Mama,” Katie inserted boldly. “I intend to marry him anyway”

  “Then you are a gudgeon, Katherine, and must be prepared to wear widow’s weeds. For you know as well as I that Lord Sidley is said to be dying.”

  ccI cannot help but believe, Sidley,” Lord Benjamin said the next morning, “that what you are doing is rather wicked.”

  “You should never qualify `wicked,’ Benny”

  “What? Oh-I see. Yes. Quite!”

  Leland Erasmus Pell, eighth Earl of Sidley, turned from his dressing mirror to smile at his friends. “There is no question I am engaged in a deceit of outstandingly evil proportion. Would you not agree, Vaughn?”

  Viscount Vaughn sent him a pointed look. “Agree,” he said, and returned to an examination of his immaculately buffed Hessian boots.

  “Vaughn would have me claim numerous `deceits,’ Benny,” Sidley said as his man gave a final brush to his coat. “My deceits multiply. In for a penny, in for a pound! But wicked as I may be, you must admit that none of this was at my initiative.”

  “Certainly not!” Lord Benjamin began to pace about the room. “Your aunt is much to blame. Cutting up rough like that! Carrying on as though you were already in your grave! No one could convince her-But really, Sidley-once having, having submitted to-having let the notion-”

  “Having let the lie stand, I might only redeem myself by refuting it?”

  “Yes!”

  “I intend to do so, my Lord Benjamin. But the execution . . ” Sidley shrugged his shoulders, or as near as he could shrug in the close-fitting coat. “I must play out this hand in the most satisfactory manner.”

  “You must leave town,” Vaughn said firmly. “To dieor recover”

  “I think I should prefer to recover, Vaughn,” Sidley said with a sidelong glance. “Though it does present the greater difficulty.” He smiled. “But by good fortune, I needn’t determine my fate just this minute.”

  “It has gone on far too long,” Vaughn said. “You cannot fool everyone indefinitely. You must end it, Sidley.” He glanced at the volume lying in its wrapping paper on a side table. “I believe I saw a copy of the Microcosm in your library last week.”

  “So you did.
”

  “Then this one is … T’

  “A gift, Vaughn. I shall send it on to Lady Formsby with my compliments.”

  “To Lady Formsby?”

  “Lady Formsby is a very dear friend of my aunt’s. And an enthusiast for the latest in printing techniques. Did you not know?”

  Vaughn returned to an examination of his boots, but now he was frowning.

  Lord Benjamin stopped pacing the floor. “Your aunt, Lady Adeline, knows then, Sidley? That you have never been that ill?”

  “She knew within the first forty-eight hours, Benny. But by then the damage had been done. And all her subsequent protests were ascribed to a fond relative’s wishful thinking.” Sidley smiled but shook his head. It still amazed him, how remarkably the tale had spread. The formidable Lady Adeline Pell, that model of composure, collapsing in hysterics. On seeing her nephew, pale and still as a corpse, carried on a litter from the Lark at Portsmouth, she had shrieked to all present that he was dying, before succumbing herself to an astonishing fit of the vapors.

  Though the combination of illness, inebriation, and severe mal de mer had indeed rendered Sidley temporarily insensible, he had in fact been assured at least a few more days of life.

  But the gossips had speculated wildly. Once he had rallied enough to attempt correction, no one had believed him. Of course he would deny it, wouldn’t he? Such a gentlemanly thing to do, to divert attention from his difficulty. Why, the man could scarcely walk! And similarly, though Lady Adeline had made every conceivable effort to refute the talk-her nephew was not dying; she had been overcome on seeing his distress; he was, after all, the last Sidley-her own reputation for near-stoic reserve had been her undoing. Poor woman, the ton had clucked, she was fated to experience a most difficult mourning. It seemed Lady Adeline was destined to wear black for many more years.

  Frustrated by such implacable belief, still recovering his health, and unwilling to make public mockery of his aunt, Sidley had ceased to protest. And yielding had brought with it unanticipated benefits and pleasures-for one, an absurd forgiveness of failings, but most noticeably a freedom from both expectation and restriction. Though he was still passably young, titled, comfortably wealthy, and not, he hoped, too physically repugnant, marriage-minded mamas had no wish for their daughters to be too soon widowed.

  Or did they? Sidley frowned as he glanced at his friends’ reflections in the mirror. Benjamin and Vaughn, however reluctantly, had aided him in furthering his deception. They had also provided invaluable insights into the thinking of the ton. Despite Sidley’s efforts to remove himself from consideration, to indicate that his finances might be troubled-a lack of the ready which he sought to emphasize with some of his more prepos terous wagers-the interest had persisted. Increasingly, the young ladies indicated that they shouldn’t much mind a brief marriage-if it were succeeded by a wellfunded, and no doubt equally brief, mourning.

  Which brought him to his Aunt Adeline’s plans. She had, she claimed, unintentionally permitted him this holiday. But she had her hopes for the family, or, more accurately, for its expansion. He might kick over the traces for a time, but she expected him to do his duty, preferably by marrying a young lady of her choosing. And she had recently fixed her hopes on the beautiful and buoyant Lady Katherine, young Lord Formsby’s sister.

  Sidley sighed.

  He had been enjoying his idyll, with its glorious absence of accountability. Though his aunt had accused him of making an exhibition of himself, she could not truly fault him. He had only done what any exhausted and relieved veteran of the years-long Peninsular campaign might reasonably have been expected to do in his first weeks home-and to the same excess. Though he was to some extent limited by his still-game leg, all his other faculties had recovered. Aunt Adeline wanted him to turn his mind to the future-and so he had. Not a day passed that he did not deal with correspondence regarding Aldersham or the other estates, Sidley House, tenants, workmen, or vexations of one sort or another. He knew his romp must shortly end. But Lady Katherine? He did not wish to apply himself to marriage and setting up a nursery. Certainly there could be no reason for hurry. He was still shy of thirty. He was not, after all, fading any more precipitously than the next man.

  “If Lady Adeline knows,” Lord Benjamin mused aloud, having taken again to pacing, “why won’t she convince everyone?”

  “She has tried, Benny,” Sidley said, “but the mob will not budge. Once having placed me on my last legs, society is equally determined to topple me into my grave. I shall probably have fathered my third child before all of them awake to the reality.”

  “You intend to be a father, then?” Vaughn asked.

  Sidley sent his friend a guarded look. Vaughn had ever been too perceptive. “Not imminently. I should hardly have troubled to go to such lengths to evade the matchmakers if I were eager to deliver up an heir.”

  “Then why your pronounced interest in Miss Ware?”

  “‘Pronounced’? I assure you, I have no interest in Miss Ware”

  “You stared at her for fully twenty minutes at the Osbornes’ rout last week”

  “Did I? I was unaware of it. As was she”

  “Why’d you intervene yesterday evening, then?” Benny asked.

  “Because the young lady was at a disadvantage. I believe only I should place people at a disadvantage.”

  Benny grinned but pressed, “And you played the gallant that first time as well-because she was at a disadvantage?”

  “Perhaps I needn’t `play,’ you young cub. Perhaps Miss Ware inspires gallantry. But you forget she had her cousin Formsby as escort. You may have observed that he lacks a certain care. Miss Ware might easily have suffered a fall. Indeed, Formsby is so shortsighted, he sees little beyond his lapels” Sidley pointedly brushed his own lapels.

  “How I admire you, Sidley!” Lord Benjamin gushed. “To be in town mere weeks, and all the crack! New, and unknown, and unlikely to last! ‘Tis such a coup! My word, I am in awe!”

  Sidley shook his head at Benny’s raptures. He and Vaughn had taken the younger man in hand as a favor to Benjamin’s father, the Duke of Derwin. His Grace, fearing that his third son’s enthusiasms might otherwise lead the boy into more mischief than the scamp had already sampled, had pressed an oversight role upon the two older men.

  “Before you commend him too thoroughly, Benny,” Vaughn cautioned, “let us see how he extricates himself from this business.”

  “You doubt that I shall?” Sidley asked.

  “Confessing to such a clanker will be hard enoughwithout the added difficulty.”

  “‘Added difficulty’?”

  “You are in very grave danger, my friend.”

  “Grave danger, hah!” Benny laughed. “I like that!”

  But Sidley was not to be diverted. “Explain yourself, Vaughn,” he said sharply.

  “Miss Ware.”

  “Miss Ware is in no danger. I do not trifle with young ladies’-”

  “‘Tis your danger I mentioned, not hers.”

  “What’s this, then?” Benny asked. “Isn’t Miss Ware just a bit of a sparrow?”

  As Sidley’s glance narrowed on Benny, Vaughn laughed. “You lack discernment, Benny,” he said. “The girl is lovely.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Sidley agreed. “Since your taste runs to painted opera dancers, Benny, or-to stretch your metaphor-to flamingos, Miss Ware’s subtler attractions must elude you. I myself should most liken her to-oh, a thrush, perhaps. Or a nightingale.” He did not look at his friends as he dabbed more powder onto his face. “Never forget that paint tends to mask more than it reveals, young Benny”-he turned at last from his mirror-“and that a gown tends to reveal more than any woman suspects we see”

  As Benny laughed again, Vaughn snorted. “You look even more ashen than you did yesterday.”

  “That is the aim, my friend.”

  “But since you will be recovering … ?”

  “Not yet”

  “You will not long be ab
le to hide your own health, Lee. You bested Hewitt yesterday morning at Jackson’s.” “

  “But I have not yet bested you, Vaughn.”

  I would take out your leg.”

  “No one else would dare. So you see, I am not fit enough”

  Benny was again pacing with his annoyingly youthful energy. “Miss Ware, a thrush?” he repeated. “Yes, I see it. She is pretty enough, I ‘spore, if viewed apart from her cousin, Lady K. Else she wouldn’t be betrothed”

  Sidley checked himself in the act of pulling on his gloves. “Miss Ware is betrothed?” he asked lightly. “To whom?”

  “Does it matter?” Vaughn asked.

  “Oh, some naval lieutenant,” Benny supplied. “From her home in Northants. Apparently a friend of her brother, the curate. We had it from Wilfred last night.”

  “And why did you not tell me this last night?”

  “Does it matter?” Vaughn repeated.

  “Why,” Benny responded, “we was travelin’ on to Brooks’s, and it completely slipped my mind. I-”

  “‘Tis nothing,” Sidley said quickly, turning to examine his collar closely in the mirror. He concentrated with some effort. “Where is this naval lieutenant?”

  “Where would you wish him, Sidley?” Vaughn asked. “The bottom of the sea? He is due back from Gibraltar within the month.”

  Sidley felt as though a much-anticipated meal had just been removed from in front of his nose. The reaction surprised him; perhaps Vaughn was right, and he really had been in some danger. He would not have credited it, on such short acquaintance.

  He forced himself to smile at Vaughn as he accepted his cane from his valet. “Then there is no problem, my friend. Since I now know Miss Ware to be doomed to the altar, and she believes me simply doomed, we are admirably matched. What harm in that, Vaughn?” And, reflecting that he was a bigger fraud even than his friends supposed, he escorted them from his dressing room.

  “Whatever can he mean by it?” Katie wailed, the brown paper wrapping slipping from her lap onto the floor. “Sending Mama a book?”

  Marian gazed at Katie’s pretty, puzzled face, then reached across to rescue the volume before it, too, slid to the carpet. “‘Tis a beautiful book, Katie.”