A Lady for Lord Randall (Brides of Waterloo)
‘It is fashionable to be in Brussels, Lord Randall. It is where everyone of importance is gathered.’
‘They should be in London, especially now. I have just learned that Gussie is increasing.’
‘I am sure they will leave, should it be necessary.’
‘And what of you?’ he asked her. ‘Will you quit Brussels?’
She nodded. ‘I have made plans to take my school to Antwerp.’
‘That is very wise.’
They were standing side by side and Mary kept her eyes fixed upon the barouche, where Lady Blanchards was now shaded by the hood.
‘My school is everything to me,’ she said. ‘It is all I have.’
And it is the reason I cannot throw my cap over the windmill for you.
A high, anxious voice interrupted her thoughts.
‘Justin! What is it, why is everyone gathered about Gussie’s carriage?’
The young lady in the blue riding habit was trotting towards them, but now she was followed by a different cavalry officer, a florid-faced colonel with black pomaded curls and a startlingly black moustache, every bit as dark and glossy as the horse he was riding. The earl’s mount sidled restlessly and Randall put one hand up to smooth its grey nose.
‘Our sister is feeling a little faint, Sarah,’ he replied. ‘No need for you to fly into a pelter. It is nothing serious and there is a doctor with her now.’
So Mary was right, she was Randall’s younger sister, Lady Sarah Latymor. Mary took the opportunity to study her. She was much fairer than Randall, but had the Latymor nose and the same blue eyes, which Mary realised now were studying her with unfeigned interest.
‘And who is this, Justin?’
Randall performed the introductions and Mary saw the speculation deepen in Lady Sarah’s eyes when he explained that they had travelled to Brussels together. Lady Sarah’s companion brought his horse a little closer and subjected Mary to what she thought was a predatory smile.
‘On your private yacht, eh?’ he said. ‘That was dashed good of you, Randall. We must do our bit to please the ladies, what?’
The earl did not reply to this sally, but said coolly, ‘Miss Endacott, let me present Colonel Bennington Ffog.’
‘My brother’s commanding officer,’ murmured Lady Sarah, as the colonel flourished a bow over the horse’s neck and almost came unseated when the animal sidled and sidestepped nervously. She glanced again towards the carriage. ‘If there is nothing to be done here for the moment, I think, Colonel, that we should be getting back. Your men will be wondering what has become of you.’
‘No, no, fair lady,’ the colonel disclaimed gallantly. ‘I am entirely at your disposal.’
‘Oh, that is so kind of you, when I know you are so busy,’ murmured Lady Sarah, with a sweet, vague smile.
Mary glanced at Randall and was
not surprised to see that his lips had thinned and he was watching this display stony-faced.
‘But I cannot keep you from your duties, Colonel,’ continued Lady Sarah. ‘How mortifying it would be if the duke should arrive and your men were not in position. I will ride back with you now and have another word with Gideon, if I may, then I shall return here to look after my sister.’
‘She is meant to be looking after you.’
Lady Sarah responded to Randall’s interjection with a bland smile. ‘Gussie knows I shall come to no harm while I am riding Castor. And when I return, perhaps there will be time for you to take me to see your artillery—’
‘No!’
Randall’s forceful refusal brought the eyes of both ladies upon him, but it was Colonel Bennington Ffog who replied.
‘No, no, Lady Sarah, I wouldn’t recommend that at all. Dashed unpleasant fellows, all of ’em. They ain’t called rogues for nothing, believe me. Why, I’ve even had their insolence directed towards me. Dregs of the earth they are, ma’am.’
‘Not so much dregs, more the scrapings of the privy,’ added Randall with grim humour. ‘But the colonel is right; they are not fit company for any lady. I would not only advise you to keep your distance, I would go so far as to positively forbid you to go near them.’