Much Ado About You

Page 46

“And Lady C—” she asked, giggling.
“Now how would I know that? Lady Colterer, perhaps. Or Lady Cristleham.”
“Whoever she is,” Annabel gurgled, “she has been foolish enough to run away with a Frenchman.”
“Ah, well,” Mayne said with satisfaction, “that must be Lady Cristleham. Daughter of a duke, married to a baron, and been going to the dogs ever since her debut.”
“Never say so!” Annabel said, fascinated. “Do you know simply everyone, Lord Mayne? What of this Portuguese nobleman?”
Lucius strode into the room. Tess turned toward him with a little cry—but he shook his head. Mayne gave her a sympathetic look, and then turned back to the gossip sheet.
“I managed to catch them,” Lucius was telling Rafe.
Up close, she could see that he was far from his composed, elegant self. There was dust in the creases of his cloak. He looked utterly exhausted, as if he’d driven all night without pause.
“You must forgive me for entering the room in all my dirt,” he said, and his voice was hoarse.
“You caught them?” Annabel repeated.
“You must have ridden like the very wind,” Rafe said. “How the devil did you do it?”
“I went cross-country part of the way,” Lucius said. “I thought I’d know what he would do, you see. Maitland is fast, but he’s predictable.”
“But when you caught them, what happened?” Tess cried.
“She refused to come,” he said heavily. “And—” He looked about and then spoke in a low voice. “I’m afraid it was too late, Tess. I couldn’t separate them.”
Tess felt as if she could howl with the grief of it. “Of course,” she said numbly.
“Is she married now?” Annabel asked. And at Rafe’s nod, she walked back to the other side of the room without another word.
“I’m forever in your debt for this,” Rafe said to Lucius.
“And I,” Tess said, trying to make the bleak look go from his eyes, even though she knew the same look was on her face.
“Don’t be.” His voice was hard. “I failed.”
“I’m sorry,” Tess said miserably. “I’m so sorry.”
“No reason to be.” He looked about. “You’re all looking remarkably festive. I’ll just retire—”
Rafe gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Yes, but you must return briskly, Lucius. We’re having something of a celebration, as Tess is to marry Mayne tomorrow morning by special license. You see”—he nodded toward the bishop—“Mayne has summoned his uncle for that very purpose.”
“Ah,” Lucius said, not even glancing at Tess. “In that case, I shall make my congratulations to Mayne before I retire.”
Tess felt her smile tremble so she moved away, back toward her sister and future husband. Lucius and Rafe followed her to the group.
Annabel was poring over the gossip sheet again, reading bits aloud for Lady Griselda’s and Mayne’s commentary.
A certain brisk widow, who has had three husbands come to untimely ends, is desirous of a fourth. We know this due to her larding her conversation with giddy descriptions of fellows she knows only by sight. We would like to warn her that to banter about matrimony is not to engage in it, and further to warn any gentleman who finds himself the subject of her conversation to beware.
“Oh, that is so unkind,” Annabel cried. “Who is the poor lady?”“My own dear sister,” Mayne said.
Lady Griselda rapped him on the head with her fan. “Nonsense, you impudent dog. I’ve had but one husband and no stomach for another, so that description’s right out. I would guess that brisk widow likely refers to Mrs. Brisquet, wouldn’t you say?”
“Of course,” Mayne said, grinning. “Quite a number of the persons are disguised by puns, as you see, Miss Annabel.”
“I can’t wait until I know every single person referred to,” Annabel said with a sigh, looking back at the newspaper. “Who could possibly be called an operatic countess? She seems a lucky woman.”
A second later, Mayne had taken the gossip sheet from her hands and was looking down at it, his face suddenly stonelike, as if he’d been struck.
“Lord Mayne,” Annabel said, rather uncertainly. “Are you quite all right?”
“Never more so,” he said, handing her back the sheet. “But I should—” He bowed extravagantly. Then he turned on his heel and left.
They all stood blinking after him.
The edge of Lucius’s mouth curled into a smile. “If you will all excuse me,” he said with a bow. “I must retire. As you can see, my clothing is rather the worse for my travels.”
“Was it something I said?” Annabel said to Rafe. But he was picking up the gossip sheet, Tess and Lady Griselda at his shoulder.
A certain operatic countess is reportedly expecting a happy event in the new year. She and her husband have made themselves notorious in the past months due to their reluctance to spend any time away from each other’s sides.
“Ah,” Lady Griselda said, putting the paper gently back on the side table. “Poor Garret.”Rafe didn’t say a word, just headed out of the chamber after Mayne.
“Who is this operatic countess?” Annabel asked. “And why did the news affect the earl so deeply?”
“I don’t think that’s our concern,” Tess said, drawing her sister away toward the window.
“Really!” Annabel said crossly. “He’s to be your husband, Tess. Don’t you wish to know who this woman is? Mayne looked as if he’d been struck by lightning.”
“No,” Tess said, realizing that it was quite true. “No, I am not interested in who the lady in question is.”
“I think you are very strange. Very! If he were my bridegroom—”
But Tess was looking out the window at the courtyard. “Unless I’m much mistaken,” she murmured, “my bridegroom has just left the house.”
Annabel gasped. “Where can he be going?”
Even as they watched, Mayne shook off Rafe’s hand. But Rafe swung him around and was talking fiercely.
“Rafe will take care of it,” Annabel said. “Mayne can’t leave! Why, he’s due to marry you first thing in the morning.”
“Yes,” Tess said, watching closely. Mayne had turned and was now walking back into the house, his face tight and dark as a thundercloud.
“Oh, good,” Annabel said. “Now it’s all taken care of. You’ll have to watch for a musical countess, but it sounds as if she is quite uninterested in Mayne, no matter what his feelings may be.”
“You’re being remarkably vulgar,” Tess said sharply.
Rafe had followed Mayne back into the house, and there was nothing more to be seen from the window.
Chapter 24
n ot having slept the previous night, Lucius took a bath and lay down for a brief repose—only to wake in thick darkness. Apparently he’d slept through supper and into the night. The tangles of some half-forgotten dream clung in his mind: Tess had been dancing and laughing, but then she dropped her fan, and the fan turned into a rabbit, a rather sweet brown rabbit that he wanted to give to her, but when he ran after the rabbit…Lucius stared into the darkness for a moment, and then swung his legs off the bed with a curse.