The Baron's Blunder (Love Is Book 10) Page 4

  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 soiree. 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 too.

  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 only had 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 of him. Having him around 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 townhouse. Idleness did not suit him. Finally he sat at his desk and started to wade through the pile of correspondence and invitations that arrived while he’d been in the country on a fool’s errand. Well, at least he was able to put away one bounder on the way back so the trip wasn’t totally wasted. And he met the most intriguing woman. He 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.

  * * *

  Dreams were of her brown eyes and pixie grin. She was tall for a woman, but he liked that, along with the fact she was his equal intellectually and not a shrinking violet. 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. Straightening his cravat in the mirror in the morning, he went to his solitary dining room to sit and peruse the paper. He drank his coffee but couldn’t eat anything. Somehow bees took to buzzing in his chest cavity. Why get worried about something that hadn’t happened yet? She was a gracious woman, right? And as a believer she should forgive him for his lie. Nothing to be anxious about at all.

  Somehow those thoughts did little to ease his mind.

  Arriving on the doorstep of the Allendale townhouse, 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 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 up and down 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 down 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 was a Bible open to the Song of 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 grip of the man released and he wiggled loose and turned to face the man with his knife evident. The other man also had a knife and 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 and was soon on him, 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 Michael spoke of?

  Somehow he found no comfort in putting a name to the evil lurking in the darkness.

  But how could he keep Henrietta safe?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Almack’s was just as always. A bore. Why did she even bother attending? To see and be seen, but for what purpose? She loved to dance but she had no intentions of marriage. Still, it allowed her to rub elbows with the patronesses who would be allies if she played her cards right when future endeavors needed their cachet.

  And tonight her brother, Lord Remington, accompanied them. Having only arrived in town a scant two hours ago, she was surprised he was willing to put himself forth to accompany her. He said it was his duty as her guardian but she knew it was because he wanted to talk to some of the men from Parliament who might also be in attendance. At least he danced on occasion and was kind enough to select young women who were usually overlooked by those more interested in a pretty face than the character of their partner.

  It was a tedious game and she longed for something more. All of her conversations tonight had netted her nothing to pass on to Lord Hughes.

  A movement caught her eye. She pivoted to observe Mr. Percy headed in her direction. He came to stand before her and bowed. “Miss Allendale, a pleasure. I pray you are well.”

  She gave a slight curtsey. “I am, thank you. You look to be weary. More attacks recently?”

  It was as if a shadow passed across his face but he smiled and shrugged. “’Tis not polite conversation with a beautiful woman.”

  “Pish, posh—”

  “—Balderdash and fiddlesticks. Yes, I know. Your bird, Peaches, was quick to inform me.”

  “Peaches?”

  “I stopped by your home earlier today. I need to speak with you. May I engage you for this waltz?”

  “Serious conversation during a dance?”

  “How else may we achieve privacy while not compromising each other?” He winked.

  “Challenge accepted. You’ve already alleviated my boredom and intrigued me.” She placed her hand on his arm as he led her to the floor.

  His hand holding hers and the other at her waist gave her unusual sensations of floating and pleasant dreams. He gazed at her with warmth. The music began and he skillfully wove her around the room in the pattern of the dance. He was easy to follow.

  “You needed to speak to me?”

  “You are in danger,” he whispered just loudly enough to be heard over the music. Perhaps he held her a little closer than necessary as well.

  “Me? Why?”

  “I think you can suspect why given our outing the other day. I received a warning today.”

  “Gunpoint or knife?”

  “Knife, but that’s irrelevant.” He shook his head and frowned at her. “You are too perceptive by half. I did prevail against my attacker.”

  She gave a regal nod. “Good. But why would he tell you?”

  “I’m not really Mr. Percy but Lord Percy. I lied to you and I am sorry for it.”

  “A change of topic. But why lie about your title. You are titled?”

  “Correct. A baron. With no desire to wed. Not realizing who I was speaking with at the time of our initial meeting, I opted for the fib.”

  “Ah, but when you realized it was Miss Allendale, you understood your fiction was wasted on me.”

  “And even more so since that date. Will you accept my humble apologies?”

  Henrietta sighed. She loathed lies but what could she expect from a spy? Especially since she was one herself.

  “Why reveal yourself now?”

  “I wanted to be the one to speak the truth before you learned of it another way, as it seems we might be gracing similar events this season. I would not choose to embarrass you.”

  “You no longer fear I will seek to ensnare you for a husband?”

  “I won’t be caught if I do not desire it myself.”

  She let the corners of her lips twitch. “Quite sure of that, are you?”

  “Perhaps I’m no longer interested in a prolonged future as a bachelor?”

  Her eyes riveted to his and her heart warmed at the thought that he considered pursuing her. “Why? In your hobby, dangers ensue. Not a comfortable business for a man who would choose the wedded state.”

  “Depends on his chosen bride.” He swung her around in the dance and smiled at her.

  Warmth spread throughout her body. What was she to do with this information?

  “I desire to see you safe from harm, Miss Allendale.”

  “I am quite able to care for myself, and with my brother recently arrived in town, I assure you, I’m in no danger.”

  “I have no doubt of your capabilities in defending yourself but our enemy is wily and determined. He desires to do more than harm you.”

  “Speak plainly, my lord.”

  He gulped. “There are things that no young lady of refinement would ever want to experience, which could destroy her reputation, soul, and future.”

  Cryptic. But she was not so ignorant of the seedier side of life. An involuntary shudder overtook her. “I’ve been warned. Thank you.”

  “Please do not despise the messenger. I would stand as your friend and seek to protect you if I am able.” His gaze conveyed warmth…and something more?

  “That is not necessary. I appreciate your motives are noble, but not proper.”

  “I’m not offering you carte blanche.”

  But of course he wouldn’t. He was too honorable for that. Why did the thought depress her?

  The music ended and he released her to bow. A chill swept over her at the absence of his nearness.

  “Thank you for the dance, my lord.”

  “Am I forgiven?”

  She tilted her head as they strode off the floor. “Perhaps.”

  He escorted her to Lady Grey. “May I call on you tomorrow?”

  “We are at home to visitors. I will not turn you away at the door.” Such a curt response after he’d gone out of his way to share hard things with her, only out of a desire to keep her safe. But he wasn’t her brother and he aroused sensations in her that she’d never experienced before. She wasn’t sure it was wise to be alone with him again.

  He bowed over her hand. “A pleasure, Miss Allendale.” He strode away across the room toward the door but was halted by Sir Michael Tidley. She watched them speak in hushed tones with each other, heads close. Michael cast a glance around the room and stopped when his gaze met hers. He grinned and winked and went back to his conversation. She planned to ask her brother’s friends more about this strange turn of events and whether Lord Percy was someone she could trust.

  Sir Michael never did approach. After a glass of insipid lemonade and far too many dances resulting in crushed toes, she departed with her brother and aunt with g
reat relief.

  “Did you enjoy yourself, my dear?” Lady Grey asked.

  “It was a tolerable evening.”

  “You engaged in deep conversation with Lord Percy when he waltzed with you. I believe that is the most discussion I’ve ever witnessed between you and any man,” Marcus stated.

  “He rescued us on the way to town as a thief tried to hold up our carriage,” Lady Grey added while raising eyebrows at her niece. She’d caught the “lord” part of Marcus’s statement.

  “You didn’t tell me about that.” His brow scrunched in concern.

  “You only just arrived. When would I have had opportunity to share all that’s happened since we left Rose Hill?” Henri defended.

  He relaxed into the squabs but his gaze considered her in silence. He was too astute to miss much. Her work was more easily accomplished in his absence but she was grateful, given the threat Lord Percy shared, that her brother was there to protect her should the need arise. Although Lord Marcus Remington, known as “The Virtuous Viscount,” was a peaceful man, she didn’t doubt for a moment that he was capable of fighting for those he loved. She’d witnessed him practice his fencing and boxing when he thought she wasn’t looking. She expected that, for form and figure, Lord Percy was at least equal in strength and skill to her brother.

  Why did she keep thinking of Charles? She turned to stare out the window but the carriage pulled to a stop and they stepped out and up to the townhouse. She made her way to the stairs.

  “Henri? May we talk now?” her brother inquired.

  “Must we? I’m fatigued and my toes hurt. Tomorrow?” She gave him her doe-eyed, lashes-blinking appeal.

  He shook his head and grinned. “In the morning, then. I expect a full accounting.”

  She gave him a mock salute and went to her room.

  Once inside, she tossed her shawl and reticule to a chair, kicked off her shoes, and collapsed on the fainting couch. She’d never really understood the purpose of such a piece of furniture but tonight it suited her. Thoughts of Charles, the way he looked at her, the warmth of his touch, and the strength in his form, stirred her. It was a strange experience and one she wasn’t acquainted with. She enjoyed it perhaps too much.