5
That evening at the Hollister house, Henrietta engaged in fending off unwanted suitors while occasionally dancing. She preferred to listen to the gossip going around, in the event something useful might be passed on to Lord Hughes. When he approached for a dance, she acquiesced with modest grace.
“A pleasure to see you here tonight, Miss Allendale. I hear you’ve had a few adventures recently. Taking up shooting practice in town?”
He wove her through the throng of dancers as the music rose and fell around them from the orchestra on the dais at one end of the ballroom.
“I did what was required for the circumstances. You’ve spoken to Mr. Percy, I assume.”
“Any news for me?”
She grinned. His refusal to confirm or deny her statement spoke volumes. So Mr. Percy was one of the good guys and, if she wasn’t mistaken, much like herself in the work she did as a hobby to pass the time in London. It saved her from being bored to tears at most of the tittle-tattle that qualified as intellectual discourse amongst the ton. She shared a few bits of news she thought were relevant.
He nodded but gave no other indication of whether it was what he needed. At times she feared he was merely entertaining her whim for adventure and that her work wasn’t truly of use. But she’d show him that wasn’t the case.
The music drew to an end, and he leaned over her hand as she curtseyed. He escorted her back to her aunt. “Thank you for the dance, Lord Hughes.”
“Always a delight, Miss Allendale.” He bowed and turned to depart.
“Lord Hughes is quite attentive to you,” Lady Grey stated.
“True, but he is a married man. It is sad that his wife is ill and cannot accompany him anymore.”
“You haven’t formed a tendre for him, have you?”
“But of course not. Married men are far safer to dance with. There is no fear they will seek to compromise a lady.”
“Perhaps, but there are some…” her aunt cautioned.
“Balderdash and fiddlesticks. I know how to spot a rogue dressed in fine feathers.”
Lady Grey grinned and shook her head. “I think you are a headstrong woman, my dear.”
“And what if I am? It brought a smile to your face and livened our evening, did it not?”
“True. Do you mean to stay longer?”
“Are you fatigued? I do not mind if we leave early.” She looked to her aunt who was seated next to her, dressed in plum. One of her demure gowns, for typically Aunt Doro was a tad more outlandish in the colors she chose merely to mock the tedium of what society deemed fashionable. Her own little form of rebellion. Probably one of the reasons they rubbed along together so well.
“Yes, I think departing would behoove us.” Lady Grey rose.
They made their way toward the front hall to call for their carriage.
As they traversed the crowds, Henri sensed a tug on her reticule. She held it tighter to herself and glanced around but could not tell who might have come close enough. Curious.
The ride home was quiet with the exception of the clip-clopping of the horses’ hooves and sound of the wheels on the road.
Once she was back to her room she opened up her purse and discovered a note therein.
I want what is mine. Deliver it at Wilmington’s in the garden by the marble statue of two lovers.
Oh, dear. What was this? Who sent it? She grinned. Perhaps this was her opportunity to prove her value to Lord Hughes. Too bad it was poor form to pack her gun in her reticule to attend a soirée. Her wits served her well in the past. What was it that Mr. Percy said about the tongue being wielded like a sword? And she had God.
She changed for bed and brushed her hair, braiding it before climbing under the covers. Closing her eyes, she prayed that God would grant her favor two days hence to help defeat those who were out to overthrow the monarchy and endanger the lives of good young men such as her brother Jared. She had only to get through a night at Almack’s before that.
She was grateful that Marcus was due to arrive but doubted he would want to attend the ball after his journey from Rose Hill. It would be a bit much to ask. Having him to provide escort to other venues would be a pleasure. Her brother was, after all, handsome, and willing to depress the expectations of any man she deemed unworthy. She knew he prayed she would find someone to love. Foolish man.
At least God knew her heart.
~*~
Charles paced the floor of his house in town. Idleness did not suit him. Finally, he sat at his desk and started to wade through the pile of correspondence and invitations that had arrived while he’d been in the country on a fool’s errand. At least on the way back, he’d put away one bounder, so the trip hadn’t been totally wasted. And he’d met the most intriguing woman. He’d likely destroyed a chance for further acquaintance with this morning’s revelations. And when she found out he was a baron? Lord Charles Arthur George Percy. That would put an end to any fantasy he had of future verbal sparring matches with the lovely young woman.
He dropped his papers. What was with him lately? Since he’d met her, she was all he thought about. When had he ever been obsessed with anything like this—or anyone? Perhaps his first pony as a child? But Miss Allendale was far more precious than a pony.
Listen to yourself. Precious?
He leaned back in his chair, groaned and closed his eyes. He released a deep sigh. Perhaps his mother’s prayers were finally coming to fruition. He feared he might be required to surrender his long-standing desire to remain a bachelor to the captivating charms of a certain flaxen-haired minx who would likely despise him when she learned who he really was.
Unless he could tell her before he was exposed. Perhaps then he might have a chance to win her heart?
Listen to yourself. Fool!
Fool indeed.
So why did the very thought lighten his heart and make him smile?
He’d try to mend his bridges tomorrow morning. If he failed, perhaps he could find a way at Almack’s in the evening. What could possibly go wrong? Didn’t charity conquer all?
No, he was sure she’d quickly have corrected that. “Charity never faileth,” was the verse, if he remembered correctly. He couldn’t fail. With a grin and a spring in his step, he retired for the evening, eager for tomorrow to come.
~*~
He awoke to the day with a ready smile. Dreams had been of her brown eyes and pixie grin. He hadn’t gone looking for a potential wife, but no woman could be more perfect.
Wait. Wife?
Instead of inspiring fear, the very thought led to his grin. After straightening his cravat in the mirror, he went to his solitary dining room to sit and peruse the paper. He drank his coffee but couldn’t eat. Somehow bees took to buzzing in his chest cavity. Why worry about something that hadn’t happened yet? She was a gracious woman, right? And as a believer she should forgive him for his deception. Nothing to be anxious about at all.
Somehow those thoughts did little to ease his mind.
Arriving on the doorstep of Allendale house, he gave a quick rap on the wood. The door swung open to reveal the butler. “Edwards, is it? Mr. Percy here to see Miss Allendale.”
“Miss Allendale and Lady Grey are not home to visitors this morning.”
Charles scanned the man’s face. Those were often code words for being home but not wanting to be disturbed. “May I wait for them?”
A slight twitch of an eyebrow revealed he had surprised the dignified servant. “But of course. If you wish, sir.” The door opened and the man led Charles to a different room than before. This one was warm and inviting, a sitting room where the women obviously liked to relax. Books were piled on a table, a basket of embroidery on the floor near a chair.
“Pish, posh!” a voice squawked.
Charles turned, only to find a parrot sitting on top of his cage. “Well, hello there. And what might your name be?”
“Hello, Peaches! Hello, Peaches!”
“Hello, Peaches. I’m delighted to meet you.”
“Pish, posh! Balderdash and fiddlesticks!” The bird bobbed her head and fluffed out her feathers, making her seem twice her size.
Charles backed up a step. He didn’t have much experience with birds except that a parrot’s hooked bill could be quite sharp. The bird wasn’t clipped like the ravens at the Tower of London, but didn’t appear eager to leave her cage, either.
He went to wander the room while he waited. The wainscoting was dark, and the wallpaper, with intertwining green vines, gave the room a light, airy atmosphere. The crown molding above reflected the darker color of the wainscoting and was elegantly carved with vines traversing the perimeter of the room. Two large windows, framed by sage colored drapes pulled back to reveal the sunny day outside, overlooked a garden. A cushion and pillow were on a window seat, and he could only imagine the intrepid Henrietta sitting there daydreaming or reading.
A woman that vigorous likely did not daydream. It was an image that made him grin, though. He finally sat and picked up a volume on the top of a pile by the chair. Aristotle? In the Greek? Nicomachean Ethics. He flipped open the pages, but his own Greek was rusty. Quite a tome for a young lady to be reading. This was volume two, which meant there were others. He set it down to pick up a book of sonnets. Shakespeare. Definitely a diverse reader. On another table nearby a Bible was open to the Psalms. There was no fire, probably since no one was anticipated to be in the room.
A flutter preceded Peaches landing on his shoulder.
“Oh, hello again, Peaches. Was I ignoring you?”
The bird made a kissing sound and bent his beak against Charles’s cheek.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever been kissed by a bird. I hope that does not mean we are engaged.”
“Pish, posh!” the bird said and flew away back to her cage.
The door opened and Edwards entered. “Would you care for tea?”
“Do you know how long it might be before Miss Allendale would be available?”
“No, sir. She and Lady Grey are out paying visits today. They should be home to visitors tomorrow.”
“No use in me staying here. Thank you, Edwards. I’ll depart and visit again at a more opportune time.”
“As you wish, sir.” The butler led him to the front of the house, handing him his cane and hat on the way out the door.
Charles frowned and headed to White’s. The walk would do him good. Perchance he might meet up with Sir Tidley again.
As he strode down the street toward the more populated area, a shout caught his attention. He peered down the alleyway whence it came but found himself struck from behind. He blinked back the pain as his hat fell to the ground. Dragged into the alley, he struggled to gain some purchase on the ground so he could fight back. This time, not being distracted by a beautiful woman, he managed to hold on to his walking stick. He swung it around and a grunt told him he’d caused some damage.
The man’s grip released. Charles wiggled loose and, with his knife evident, turned to face his assailant. The other man also had a knife. For height and size they were evenly matched. Charles only hoped there were no more than the one.
“No woman to defend you this time, eh?” the man sneered in his gravelly voice.
“Also no feminine sensibilities to consider,” Charles snarled.
“So you say.” They weaved back and forth, each trying to lunge and attack without either gaining a cut.
Charles spun, and with his leg pushed the miscreant to the ground. He was soon on the foe, wrestling loose the knife. “Who sent you?”
“The Black Diamond. He warns you to watch out for your lady friend. He has his sights set on her.”
“For what purpose?”
The man laughed, but Charles shut him up with a fist to his head. The man was now unconscious. Charles rose, brushed himself off and grabbed his cane, putting his knife back inside. He took the attacker’s weapon and tossed it in the garbage pile at the end of the alley. No need to make it easy for the man to attack again. At least, not immediately. Deep breaths helped calm his racing heart. He collected his hat, dusted it off, and continued to White’s.
Failing to find Sir Michael, Charles returned home and sent a missive to Lord Hughes to apprise him of the danger to Miss Allendale. There was nothing more to do, except pray that it was an empty threat intended to spark fear in him. It succeeded.
And who, exactly, was this Black Diamond? Was this the man of whom Michael had spoken?
Somehow Charles found no comfort in putting a name to the evil lurking in the darkness.
But how could he keep Henrietta safe?