A Reckless Encounter

Jacqueline shook her head. “Only after the wedding, my little cabbage. Then life begins. Until then, it is a time of preparation. I am surprised that Léonie did not instruct you more fully, but then, you were still so young when she died.”

“Yes.” Celia inhaled sharply. She needed no reminders of her mother tonight; Northington had provided far too many reservations that would haunt her when she lay awake later. It had been years since she’d slept an entire night through without waking several times, sometimes to lie awake for hours staring at a dark ceiling, watching the fire die down and reliving old nightmares while plotting new ones.

“You have a restless spirit,” Sister Berthilde had told her once, after finding her wandering the halls of the home a few hours before daybreak.

The good sister’s recommendation had been to ease the night with earnest prayer, but Celia had never found that successful. She’d tried. Some nights she’d knelt beside her bed so long that her knees were sore and bruised the next day. Nothing had ever eased her restless spirit. Until justice was served, nothing ever would.

Now Jacqueline said, “Your dress certainly intrigued Northington, though I thought him a bit—well, brazen.”

“Yes, he was. He has earned his reputation as a rake, it seems. It’s not idle gossip at all.”

“You must be cautious, Celia, or you’ll give him the impression that you’re wanton.”

“Yes, it seems I have.” She gave a little laugh at Jacqueline’s expression of dismay. “Oh, I’ve no intention of allowing him too many liberties, but with a man like the viscount, subtlety has no effect.”

Jacqueline’s fan fluttered briskly. “He doesn’t seem to be the kind of man to be teased, petite. I urge you to caution—Oh God, here comes Sir John to dance with you again, I suspect. I believe he has quite a thing for you, but keep in mind, he is an intimate of Northington’s and anything you say might be repeated—”

She put a hand on Celia’s arm and her voice lifted as Harvey drew closer. “But, of course, you must not weary yourself too greatly, Celia, for there is more dancing after our late supper.”

Sir John greeted them with a wide smile, but his eyes did not leave Celia as he murmured an appropriate greeting, then said, “I have come to dance with you and then take you into supper, if you consent, Miss St. Clair.”

“Of course, my lord. I shall be delighted,” she said with a smile. “But you must be warned that I’ve already trod upon the toes of two poor gentlemen who’ve danced with me this evening.”

“I feel my luck has changed, and am willing to risk my toes.” He put out an arm, and Celia put her hand on it to be led onto the dance floor. A quadrille was forming sets and there was no opportunity to talk during the dance as they glided from partner to partner. It wasn’t until he escorted her into the late supper that Celia noted his intensity.

“You are a most lovely young woman, Miss St. Clair, and I imagine you have many admirers,” he said as they entered the dining room.

“Not so very many, my lord, though your high esteem is very flattering.” She smiled at him. His hazel eyes were fastened on her face as if in rapt attention, but there was a strange tautness to his mouth that stirred her curiosity. “You are being very kind tonight, Sir John.”

“Not kind, but rather optimistic, is more like it, Miss St. Clair.” His shoulders lifted in a light shrug, and his boyish face creased into a rueful smile. “I have the bad habit of yearning for what I can never have, it seems, and that extends to more than limitless pockets and well-bred horses.”

“Ah, but I saw you last week in Hyde Park, and your horse seemed very well-bred to me.”

“You saw me?” He looked faintly startled, then waved away any explanation with a laugh and observation, “I seem to be unable to skulk about unnoticed. Not that I was trying, I’m certain, but I do recall riding in the park. It’s too bad that I didn’t see you, or I could have been a gallant escort.”

“Oh, I was already escorted by Lord Northington.”

“Ah, I’d forgotten. A social coup for you, it seems, for Northington is hardly the man to issue invitations to innocent rides in the park.”

“He would not have done so then,” she replied, “if you had not teased him into it.”

Harvey grinned. “He needed a taste of civility, and I was certain you would provide him with it. I knew he would never be able to resist such a lovely challenge.”

“Challenge, my lord?” Celia frowned slightly. Had they been talking about her? If so, it certainly meant that Northington was more intrigued than she had guessed.

“Yes, I have a confession to make—” He paused beneath the glittering light of a wall sconce dripping with crystals that radiated tiny rainbows of color. “I was in the alcove that evening at the Leverton ball, and heard what transpired between you. Forgive me. I hope you don’t think I’m a meddler in your affairs, but I couldn’t help but overhear. It was deuced awkward, and I didn’t know if I should betray my presence or simply hope that you would not notice me there.”

“How embarrassing,” she said frankly. “I’m afraid that I’ve made a terrible impression. You must think me a complete idiot.”

“Not at all. I find you disarmingly lovely and very charming, Miss St. Clair. Your arrival in London has graced our stifling society with a freshness that is most welcome in all circles.”

There was a sudden commotion, and Harvey turned her toward the dining-room entrance, whispering to her that the prince had finally arrived.

“Have you been presented yet, Miss St. Clair?”

“No—oh, do not, my lord, for I don’t know what I would say to him.”

“You need only be your charming self, for Prinny loves a beautiful woman nearly as much as he loves himself most of the time. Oh, pay no attention to me. I admit to being jaded, but here…come with me.”