“It is rather a long story.”
Haviland shrugged. “I have ample time to listen- and hearing the tale will be far more intriguing than making polite drawing room conversation.”
Thus, Damon found himself recounting the frequent accidents that had befallen the prince, beginning with the wheel coming off his phaeton in the park and culminating in the sabotaging of the balloon flight.
Haviland looked thoughtful at the conclusion of Damon's narrative. “You said the pickpocket at the Pantheon Bazaar appeared to be foreign?”
“Yes. He had the olive complexion of the Italians, in fact.”
“It would be no surprise if his highness had de veloped enemies among his countrymen. Royalty often arouses malcontents with grievances.” Haviland paused. “It might be interesting to try to set a trap for his assailant.”
Damon raised an eyebrow at the earl's proposition for intrigue, although such unconventionality from him was not entirely unexpected, given Haviland's purported experience with British intelligence.
“Meaning,” Damon questioned, “that we should use Lazzara as bait? Could it be done without endangering him too greatly?”
“I expect something could be arranged. Let me think on it. Meanwhile you should have the Runners pay close attention to his servants and compatriots.”
“I already have done so,” Damon responded. “Lazzara brought his usual retinue of attendants with him, against my advice, and I thought they bore extra scrutiny from Bow Street. I also asked my valet to watch for any suspicious activity in the servants’ quarters. But, Haviland, the prince would likely be safer if you agreed to keep an eye on him.”
The earl grinned. “I would be happy to oblige. It will be a relief to have something constructive to occupy me for the next fortnight. Frankly, I find these large house parties to be excruciatingly dull.”
Damon once had been of the same opinion-until he'd met Elle at this very same event two years ago. From the first moment he'd laid eyes on the raven-haired charmer, he was bowled over. That first time Eleanor had been surrounded by a coterie of admirers, and he'd been hard-pressed to lure her away from her beaux so he could have her to himself.
His challenge was similar now, Damon reflected, only now his adversary was her aunt. At least, however, Signor Vecchi served to distract Lady Beldon somewhat. Evidently Eleanor was right: Her aunt was becoming enamored of the distinguished Italian diplomat.
To Damon's gratification, Lady Beldon's attention was further diverted when nearly two dozen more guests began arriving the next day and her house party began in earnest. She had invited the cream of the ton, and by now they'd all heard about her niece's hasty wedding.
Many of them offered guarded felicitations, but her ladyship set about annihilating their reservations with the resolution of a field general. It amused Damon to hear the viscountess sing his praises and pretend delight at the union when he knew she was lying through her teeth.
Eleanor, too, did her part to tamp down any whiff of scandal-playing the role of the beautiful, vivacious heiress who had made a splendid match with an extremely eligible nobleman.
Damon couldn't help but admire her as she charmed and enchanted her arbiters. Yet Elle would have captured his attention, even had he not been newly married to her. She was so vital and alive, she seemed to raise the spirits of everyone around her. Damon was constantly aware of her and found himself listening for her sparkling laugh, watching for her warm smile.
But while he always knew where Eleanor was at any given moment, his bride continued to keep her distance from him and always found inventive excuses to avoid being alone with him.
His cousin, Tess Blanchard, was the only one who appeared to note their lack of intimacy. Damon was pleased to see Tess in the throng of guests, but when she congratulated him on his marriage and hinted that she would like to know more about the details, he merely thanked her and changed the subject to her favorite topic: her charities.
Tess knew all about his endeavors in Italy and had actually discovered several cases of consumption in the course of her work with the impoverished families of fallen soldiers. She'd brought the sufferers to Otto Geary's notice, who had then arranged for them to become patients at Damon's sanitorium.
Thankfully, Tess was clever and intuitive enough not to press him further, saying merely when they parted, “I truly hope you and Eleanor will be happy together.”
Elle's elder brother, on the other hand, was clearly not so hopeful or optimistic-or forgiving. Marcus Pierce, Lord Danvers, and his new wife, Arabella, appeared at the house party two full days before they were expected, having heard of the sudden marriage upon returning from their trip to the Continent.
They arrived on Saturday morning, when the guests were entertaining themselves by playing Pall Mall on the lawn or trying their hands at archery. Eleanor seemed overjoyed to see her brother, judging by her alacrity at setting down her bow and arrow to give Marcus an effusive embrace.
When he quizzed her about what the devil she had been up too, marrying the moment his back was turned, she laughed and gave him an abbreviated recount of the balloon ascension.
Watching brother and sister together, Damon found himself rather envious of the close camaraderie they plainly shared, even if he had purposely avoided that closeness in his own relationship with Eleanor.
Marcus called her Nell, the more common diminutive of her name, as well as “minx” and a few other teasing endearments, but his intense protective-ness was obvious when he skewered Damon with a glance, although he was polite enough when he shook hands and introduced his own new wife, Arabella.
But Marcus took the first opportunity to pull Damon aside from the company and offer a warning. “I'll cut out your liver if you hurt my sister again, Wrexham.”
Damon returned a faint smile. “If I hurt her again, you won't have to cut out my liver. I will do it myself.”
Marcus regarded him for a long, grim moment, before finally giving a brusque nod. Apparently he was willing to adopt a wait-and-see attitude and allow Damon to prove himself.
His restraint was, in part, a testament to their former friendship. The two of them had known each other since their boarding school days. Damon had regretted losing Marcus's high regard after his broken engagement to Eleanor. He had few close friends, and the ones he did have, he cherished.