The Rebellious Ward Page 6

  “Doubtless,” he replied severely, “but you will not dance with him again. A flirtation with Hampton would be fatal to your reputation.”

  All the sparkling gaiety left her face. “Yes, Edmund,” she said, very low. The music came to an end, and they were immediately approached by the Earl of Wareham.

  “I believe this is my dance, Miss MacIan." he said to her. Then, to Edmund, “You have surprised us all, Burford."

  Edmund didn’t reply immediately, and Catriona asked, “Why has Edmund surprised you, my lord?”

  Both men looked for a minute into her slanting green eyes with their innocent, hidden power. Then Edmund smiled. “He is surprised that I have so grown-up and so lovely a ward,” he answered lightly and touched her cheek. Catriona smiled back at him, a dreamy, bewitching smile, .as her previous unhappiness fled before his approving words. Edmund stepped back. “I must find your cousin,” he said, nodded to Lord Wareham, and left them. A short while later Catriona saw him dancing with Margaret.

  * * * *

  The ball was a success. Catriona danced every dance, and if Margaret was not as besieged as her cousin, she was kept quite busy enough. There remained only one more obstacle to be surmounted before Catriona could be counted as successfully launched into the highest and most fashionable circle in London society. First she must have a voucher to Almack's For Margaret there would be no trouble. But Catriona ... It was with some apprehension that Lady Dawley tackled Lady Jersey on this subject.

  “A voucher for Miss MacIan?" Lady Jersey echoed, her brows contracting slightly. She took her position as arbitress of London’s most exclusive social club very seriously. “It would be most irregular, Fanny.”

  “Yes,” said Lady Dawley. “I realize that, Sally. But she is Burford’s ward.”

  “True.” Lady Jersey gave her friend a sharp, slanting look. “If I gave Miss MacIan a voucher, could we expect to see Burford accompany her?”

  Lady Dawley recognized a bargain when she was offered one. “Of course,” she replied promptly. “He will want to keep an eye on both of his cousins.”

  The two ladies watched the dance floor in silence for a moment. Edmund was dancing with Catriona. "I don’t believe Burford has set foot in Almack's in three years,” said Lady Jersey. “It is time he was getting married himself. How old is he now?”

  “Twenty-nine. And I shouldn’t be at all surprised if he wasn’t on the look-out for a wife this season—once his obligation to Catriona and Margaret is safely discharged.”

  “He takes his guardianship seriously, then.”

  “Yes. One thing one can always say about Burford is that he doesn’t shirk his responsibilities.”

  Lady Jersey looked at Catriona. “It is a great pity she is illegitimate,” she murmured. “With those looks and a respectable fortune she could do very well.”

  “She will have thirty thousand pounds,” said Lady Dawley, who thought it was a good idea to clarify this important matter right at the start.

  Lady Jersey slowly turned her head to look at her friend. “So,” she said and raised an eyebrow.

  "Burford had a great regard for Cationa's father. They were reared together.”

  On the floor the music stopped and a slender, fair-haired man approached Catriona and the duke. They spoke together for a minute, and then Catriona smiled up at her cousin. After a moment the duke left, and Catriona and the blond man took their places on the dance floor.

  “The Earl of Wareham," murmured Lady Jersey. “After your nephew he must rank as the biggest catch on the marriage mart.”

  “Very fastidious, the Warehams," said Lady Dawley.

  “Very,” replied her friend.

  They watched the dancing couple. The young earl’s eyes were glued to Catriona’s face, and he was smiling.

  “With that face, however,” murmured the august patroness of Almack's, “anything might happen.”

  “Catriona’s face?” said Lady Dawley in surprise. “Do you think she is pretty, Sally?”

  Lady Jersey laughed. “No. She’s not pretty. Your other charge is the one who is pretty.”

  “What then do you mean?”

  Lady Jersey watched Catriona for a few more seconds. She turned back to her friend. “What your Catriona has is far more lethal than mere prettiness my dear. She’s got what is needed to drive a man right off his balance.” Lady Jersey smiled. “I shall certainly send you vouchers to Almack's Fanny. I foresee some very amusing evenings in the near future.”

  Chapter Ten

  The vouchers for Almack’s duly arrived, and Catriona and Margaret were allowed admittance into that holy of holies, showcase for all the marriageable young ladies in London. They were chaperoned by the Viscountess of Dawley and escorted by the Duke of Burford. After hearing it talked about as the epitome of every girl’s dream, Catriona found it sadly disappointing—almost dreary.

  “Is this it?” she whispered to Edmund as they came into the assembly rooms after giving up their cloaks to Mr. Willis and his minions.

  He grinned. “It is.”

  “But it isn’t grand at all.”

  “No. Lord, here comes Mrs. Drummond Burrell. On your best behavior now, Catriona.”

  Mrs. Drummond Burrell sailed up to them majestically, and Lady Dawley presented Catriona and Margaret. The patroness barely glanced at the girls; her graciousness was all for the duke. He responded pleasantly, and they all moved further into the room.

  “Now, remember,” said Lady Dawley in a low voice to the girls, “you may not waltz until one of the patronesses gives her permission.”

  Catriona’s eyes flashed, and Lady Dawley said hastily, “You must not offend Mrs. Drummond Burrell, Kate.”

  “But what is so wrong about waltzing?” Catriona asked indignantly.

  “It is not waltzing that is wrong, it is waltzing without permission.” Edmund looked cynical. “Power does terrible things to people.”

  “Mrs. Drummond Burrell,” muttered Catriona. “Huh.”

  Edmund smiled. “Precisely.”

  It should have been a very pleasant evening, Mrs. Drummond Burrell notwithstanding, Catriona’s hand was solicited for every dance, and Lady Jersey formally presented Lord Wareham to her as a partner for the waltz. Lady Dawley was very pleased with her success, and Margaret danced twice and went for supper with a quiet young man whom she seemed to like very much.

  Edmund did not dance with Catriona. He danced instead with a number of young ladies and twice with a tall, blond beauty, who along with Catriona was the undoubted belle of the assembly.

  “Who is that dancing with my cousin?” Catriona asked Lord Wareham as they gracefully circled the floor.

  Lord Wareham looked. “That is Lady Sophia Heatherstone,” he answered readily. “The Earl of Marley’s daughter. She was last season’s Incomparable.” He smiled at Catriona. “I fear this season she will have to give way to a greater claim.”

  Catriona ignored him and continued to look at Edmund, her brow furrowed. “She’s very beautiful,” she said at last glumly. “So tall. And blond.”

  “Come, that’s good news,” said Lord Wareham playfully. “Do you like blonds, Miss MacIan?”

  Catriona looked at last at her fair-haired partner. She raised an eyebrow. “It depends on the blond,” she said.

  He laughed and swung her in a circle. “We must discuss this further.”

  “Some other time, my lord,” she replied sweetly. “Our dance is ending, and I have promised this next to Mr. Hardy.”

  She danced with Mr. Hardy and then with several other gentlemen and then with Lord Wareham again. A number of mamas of eligible daughters were looking daggers at her by the end of the evening and Lady Dawley was in high good humor. She talked all the way home in the carriage and so did not notice Catriona’s unusual silence.

  Edmund did, and put a restraining hand on Catriona’s arm as she made to follow Lady Dawley upstairs once they had reached Burford House in Grosvenor Square. “I want to talk to Cat
riona for a moment, Aunt Fanny,” he said. “I won’t keep her long.”

  Lady Dawley yawned. “All right, Edmund. Good night. Good night, my dear.”

  “Good night,” answered Catriona in a subdued voice and followed Edmund into the library, where a fire was still burning. “Have I done something wrong?” she asked him.

  He looked surprised. “No. Of course not. Sit down, Catriona.” He went to a table in the corner and poured himself a glass of wine.

  “May I have some, Edmund?” she asked hopefully.

  He paused. “Don’t dare tell Aunt Fanny I gave you port.”

  She sat up eagerly. “I won’t. I promise.” He brought her a glass, and she sipped it cautiously. She closed her eyes and then opened them. “Delicious,” she said.

  He laughed. “Every other girl in the world would have made a face and called it nasty.”

  Catriona took another sip. “It isn’t nasty at all. I like it.”

  The smile still lingered on his lips. “I knew you would.” He came and sat down across from her. “Did anything happen this evening to upset you, Catriona?”

  Her eyes shifted away from his. “Why do you ask?” she parried.

  “You’ve been so quiet. Too quiet.” He put his glass down and reached over and grasped her hand. “What was it, sweetheart?”

  The endearment brought tears to her eyes. “Ah,” she said, thinking quickly, “it was something I overheard at Almack’s.” She was refusing to look at him. “One of the chaperons—she said that it was disgusting to see a little bastard like me queening it in good society.”

  Edmund’s hand tightened, and he swore under his breath. Her head jerked up in surprise, and he moved from his chair to sit next to her on the sofa.

  “She was jealous,” he said. “That’s why she said that. Her own daughter was probably sitting on a chair all evening watching you.”

  “But it makes a difference, doesn’t it?” Catriona said slowly. “The fact that my mother and father were not married.”

  “Only to some people,” said Edmund and put an arm about her. She pressed her cheek into his shoulder. “It shouldn’t,” he went on softly. “It has nothing to do with you. And it will never make a difference to anyone who truly loves you. So you must simply learn not to hear remarks such as you overheard this evening.”

  Catriona didn’t move. “Yes, Edmund,” she breathed.

  “Whenever someone says anything unkind, it is always a good idea to consider the source,” he advised. He took his arm away, and Catriona was forced to raise her head. “All right?” he asked gently.

  “Yes. Actually, I feel sorry for people like that. It must be frightful to have such a narrow, censorious mind.”

  He smiled at her. “Unlike you, who likes everybody.”

  “Well, I do. And I’m used to people liking me back. Mrs. Drummond Burrell didn’t like me, though.” She grinned at him engagingly. “But my, she certainly liked you.”

  Edmund looked sardonic. “They have been trying to get me to Almack’s for ages.”

  “Why?”

  “They want to marry me off, of course. Every woman I know seems to have received a special mission from God lately to arrange my nuptials.”

  “Oh.” Catriona looked impish. “Too bad Mrs. Drummond Burrell is already married. She certainly looked interested in you. If I were Mr. Drummond Burrell, I wouldn’t stand next to any open windows.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Edmund.

  Catriona jumped up and stood in front of him. “Miss MacIan,” she said through her nose, in a very fair imitation of the Almack’s patroness. She gazed over his head as if scanning some far horizon.

  Edmund chuckled. “Didn’t she even look at you?”

  “No. Her eyes were all for you. Your Grace,” she said in a languishing voice, batting her remarkable lashes.

  He laughed. “Don’t pay any attention to her. I never do.”

  “Well, she certainly paid attention to you.”

  He rose to his feet. “Next time you must tell her that the only reason I come to Almack’s is to keep an eye on you. Perhaps you will partake of my reflected glory.”

  Catriona glowed with a light that was all her own. “Is that true? Are you coming just for me?”

  “Of course. And it’s time you went up to bed.”

  “But you didn’t dance with me,” she said as she obediently moved toward the door.

  “I didn’t want to risk the wrath of your prospective suitors.”

  “Pooh,” said Catriona. “I don’t care about them.” She smiled. “Good night, Edmund.”

  His. face was suddenly grave. “Good night, Catriona.”

  She went upstairs feeling happier than she had in a very long time.

  Chapter Eleven

  Several bouquets of flowers arrived for Catriona the day after the Almack’s assembly, and one for Margaret from Mr. Frederick Halley, the quiet young man who had danced with her twice the previous evening.

  “Who are yours from, Kate?” Margaret asked as she looked at the impressive lineup. Her voice held just the faintest tinge of envy.

  “Oh, Mr. Hardy, Mr. Morrison, Lord Wareham, and one or two others.” Catriona smiled at Margaret. “I don’t need to ask who yours are from, Meg. You only paid attention to one young man last night. Is he nice?”

  Margaret smiled back. “Yes,” she said. “He is. This is his first season, too. He only came down from Cambridge last year. He knows George.”

  “Does he? That must be why you spent so much time talking to him,” Catriona teased.

  Margaret flushed. “I only danced with him twice. You danced with Lord Wareham twice. And Mr. Hardy.”

  “That’s different,” said Catriona.

  “Why?”

  Catriona frowned and looked at the sweet face of her cousin. “I don’t know,” she said at last. “But it is.”

  “I don’t see why.”

  Catriona looked somber. “It’s because you’re a better person than I am, Meg. You don’t do things on impulse. You—think.”

  “I think too much sometimes,” returned Margaret. “Don’t you know how I’ve always longed to be like you?”

  “Like me? But why? You’re much prettier than I am, have better manners, do the proper thing....”

  “Stop!” Margaret held up her hand. “You make me sound as dull as I am. The truth is that I haven’t got the nerve to do the things you do. For example, I should have loved to have seen that play with you and George a few years ago, but I was afraid to risk it.”

  “Oh, that.” Catriona shuddered theatrically. “I wish I hadn’t risked it. When I think of how angry Edmund was ...”

  “I could never face Edmund when he gets like that.” Margaret’s cheeks were pale at the thought. “I shall never forget what he said to Henry the time he got sent down from Eton. I’d rather be skinned alive than have him speak to me like that. He’s so—so quiet. So pleasant. So annihilating.”

  “Well, he isn’t quiet and pleasant when he gets angry at me,” Catriona said decidedly. “He is just furious.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Edmund lose his temper,” Margaret said slowly.

  “Hah,” said Catriona. “You’ve never heard him dressing me down.”

  “And you don’t mind it?” asked Margaret incredulously.

  “Of course I mind it.” Catriona was very serious now. “I hate it when Edmund is angry with me.”

  Margaret looked around the flower-filled room. “Well, he can’t be angry with you now. You are a Success, Kate. Marriage offers will be pouring in.”

  “I don’t think so.” Catriona’s gravity lifted and she looked decidedly happier. “Consider my wretched background, Meg. I’m a bastard. I don’t think anyone will want to marry me.”

  Margaret stared at her. “That won’t matter, Kate.”

  “Oh, yes, it will. Edmund said it would last night when he was trying to cheer me up.”

  “Trying to cheer you up? By telli
ng you no one would want to marry you?”

  “Oh, he didn’t say that. But he meant it all the same.” Catriona grinned at Margaret. “Don’t look so upset. I don’t at all want to get married. Now I can just have fun and not worry about having to leave Evesham.”

  “I see,” said Margaret blankly.

  * * * *

  Catriona proceeded to fulfill her own prophecy and have fun. She went driving in the park with a variety of eligible men. She went to balls and danced with a variety of eligible men. She went to the theater, and between acts her box was filled with a variety of eligible men. Everyone was very nice, she thought. And no one got too close. Lady Dawley and the duke saw to that. So she relaxed and enjoyed herself outrageously.

  After their conversation the night of her first Almack’s assembly Edmund withdrew from Catriona again. He dutifully escorted her and Margaret to the more important of their engagements and put in an occasional appearance at Almack’s, but otherwise appeared preoccupied. Catriona noticed that the light was always on in the library when she returned home late at night and assumed he was working on a new mathematics formula.

  Consequently the conversation between her great-grandmother and Lady Dawley that she overheard took her completely by surprise. She was sitting in the drawing room, addressing letters for Lady Dawley, and the two older women were having tea. The duke’s aunt sipped hers and said reflectively to the duchess, “I do believe Edmund is serious about Lady Sophia Heatherstone.”

  “Do you. Fanny?” replied the duchess. “She is a very lovely girl. Excellent breeding, of course.”

  “Yes,” said Lady Dawley. “She has the dignity and elegance that would be required of the Duchess of Evesham. She would know just how to conduct herself. I think I may say that I have seen all the debutantes these past few years, and he could scarcely do better. Hardy offered for her last year and Sir Robert Bennett, but they say Lady Marley is holding out for a title.”

  The duchess looked troubled. “I should hate to see Edmund marry a girl who only wanted his title.”

  “Come, Mama,” said Lady Dawley impatiently. “Can you doubt Edmund’s ability to attach a woman if only he bothers to exert himself? And I think that this time he may actually be exerting himself. He danced with Lady Sophia twice at the Devonshires’ ball, and this afternoon he was taking her driving in the park.”