~ Fifteen ~

 

 

JOHN DARCY MADE A FEW attempts to retrieve his position with Letty, but found access to her more than a little difficult, as she was surrounded by admiring gallants and a bevy of giggling females.

He sighed the sigh of a man giving up, and cast his eye about the room in search of one of his cronies and found Charles well occupied with a very lovely female and Fitz involved in a heated debate with a French dandy.

Scanning the room further, he discovered the viscount with his arm around the finest specimen of the female sex he had ever encountered. He admitted to himself that he must be a fickle man, and made his way towards the viscount and the beauty.

“Belfort!” he called as he closed in. “Introduce me to your Parisian beauty at once!”

“Devil take you off, John,” Bel said merrily enough. “I will not, so you might as well leave.”

Lady Liz laughed, and Darcy thought her laugh musical and infectious. She waved a gloved hand at Bel and admonished, “Now, dearest Bel, don’t be uncivil. Introduce me to your friend at once.”

“Why, you are English!” Darcy said, surprise lining his words.

“La, but of course, sir, and why not?” Lady Liz batted her lashes.

“Why not, enchantress? It is because I cannot believe it possible that I have been in London for so long and have not met or seen you.”

She was well pleased, and fluttered her fan as she gave him a long, inviting look. “Bel! Introduce us at once,” she commanded.

The viscount laughed, and once he had done so, added, “I give you fair warning, Liz, Mr. Darcy here is a veritable rogue with the ladies. Breaks their hearts and leaves ’em crying.”

“La! Such an odious thing to say about your friend,” bantered the lady.

“Certes! It is true, and this dog is no friend of mine. However, if you must have him, you must,” Bel said, grinning. “I know when I am beaten.” He slapped Darcy on the back, adding as he started off, “’Tis time I go pay my respects to…Lady Marling.”

 

* * * * *

 

Secretly, the viscount was relieved when John had interrupted Lady Elizabeth and him, as he was heartily sick of standing attendance on her when he wanted to be elsewhere.

He made his way to Letty, aware a Russian baron was in the process of flirting outrageously with his…his…’little one’. Besides that, she seemed taken with the man, forever laughing, and looking up at him.

Bel arrived in time to hear the Russian say, “Ah no, my lovely, it is not possible that such a one as I am merely flattering you. I am Russian and speak only the truth. Come, we shall dance, and then find a private corner.”

The Russian led Letty onto the dance floor before he could put a stop to it without causing a scene, and so he took position leaning against a stanchion until the dance was at an end, a thing that seemed interminable.

He was quickly joined by Fitz, who glanced at the Russian dancing with their Letty and said, “Met that brute earlier, have you met him?”

The viscount smiled as the Russian was both tall and broad. “I haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Insipid fellow,” Fitz said, pulling a face. “Insisted on my trying that atrocious soup…all potatoes and leeks. Soup, indeed! I tried it, bland, and told him so.”

“You mean Vichyssoise, Fitz?” His cousin had long ago endeared himself to him with his simple take on life. “I believe the French are quite fond of it.”

“Frogs…what do they know about food,” Fitz returned, grimacing. “Got a funny name, too.”

“What—the soup?” Bel was surprised.

“No, the baron. Imagine, Bel, he lets people call him Wintzinkrode. Had a bit of a time getting it right.”

Bel laughed robustly, but said nothing as Letty hurried towards them, her admirer in tow. She smiled and blushing sweetly to say, “Baron…you have, I know, already met Fitz, and this is my dear, dear friend, the Viscount of Belfort.” She turned to the baron and said, “Baron Ferdinando von Wintzinkrode.”

The viscount allowed for an amenity or two before he said, “Excuse us, Baron, but I must deliver Miss Rochdale back to Lady Marling for a moment.” He took her elbow to lead her away, and the Russian clicked his heels impressively.

Letty leaned into Bel at this and covered her mouth, whereas Bel chuckled and said, “No…Letty, do not laugh.”

They hadn’t gone very far when Bel found a quiet corner and said, “Having a good time, madcap?”

“You have no idea how good, how wonderful this evening has been. Thank you, Bel, thank you,” Letty said breathlessly and with great feeling.

“Silly chit, don’t thank me. You are entitled to all this and more.”

“What does that signify, Bel? Without you, none of this would have been possible. I shall be eternally grateful.”

“I don’t want you grateful to me,” he said, somewhat rankled.

“But, Bel…if it hadn’t been for you, who knows what would have happened to me,” she said in a small voice.

“Never mind all that now,” Bel answered with a wave of his gloved hand. “What I want to know is…have you formed…a…a tendré for any of the gentlemen…like that mountain filling your head with fripperies?”

“Mountain?” Letty returned uncomprehendingly.

“The Russian…did he or anyone else turn your head?”

She laughed. “Oh, everyone has been so…so much fun, but, Bel…”

“Blister it, Letty, you spent more time with the mountain than you did anyone else, and the way you looked up to him…well, does he hold favor with you?”

He saw her face go white, and was sorry immediately for reprimanding her when she asked, “Oh, Bel…have I done something wrong?”

“Certes! No, but you seemed to like that devilish Cossack Mountain…and…and…” Bel said, though his words trailed off.

“It was only that I have never met a Russian baron before, and he was ever so pleasant,” she answered on a frown.

“Aha! So he met with your approbation, did he?”

“Should he not?” Letty’s green eyes were round with her surprise.

Fitz came upon them and offered, “At least he didn’t make her drink that potato slop.”

Bel and Letty looked from Fitz to one another and burst out laughing.

Fitz smiled benignly, and said, “Don’t see what is funny about it, but happy to give pleasure.”

 

* * * * *

 

It was well past two in the morning when Fitz found himself objecting strenuously to being squeezed in a coach for the trip home. Mr. Darcy had left the ball a few minutes earlier, taking with him both his coach and Lady Elizabeth.

“I say, ’tis impossible,” Fitz complained as he attempted to situate himself beside Lady Marling and Letty. “Deuce take John! What did the fellow mean by leaving without us? Shouldn’t have to rumple my clothing if we had his coach!”

“Indeed, I saw the impudent boy dismiss Lady Liz’s coach, I suppose so he could escort her home himself.”

“Did he, by Jove!” Charles remarked. “Better be careful, Bel, or the lad will cut you out with her.”

Charles’ remark sent a pang through Letty, and she turned away to gaze out the window at the quiet, dimly lit street.

After a few moments, Lady Marling frowned as she glanced at her charge and said, “Letty! So quiet? I expected you to be bubbling in transports of pleasure. You were a sensation tonight. I was extremely proud.”

“Oh, Aunt Fanny, everything was wonderful, and more than I ever dreamed it could be,” Letty said at once. Her thoughts, however, were centered on Bel and Lady Liz, as she wondered if Lady Liz was who he wanted.

“I, too, found the evening enjoyable,” Charles stuck in.

His aunt shrieked with laughter. “Indeed, I saw you with Marie Durand, and thought as much. She is much in your style. However, be careful, Charles, she is not the sort for you.”

“Aunt, she may be in my style for one or two evenings, but not, I assure you, for a lifetime,” he answered.

“What a horrid thing to say!” Letty admonished.

“Oh, my innocent darling.” Lady Marling attempted to defend her nephew. “You do not realize that men can be quite callous when expressing their opinions about females.”

“I had never thought Charles so…so…well, I don’t think it very gentlemanly to speak so flippantly about a woman he spent most of the evening entertaining.” Letty gave Charles a dark look.

Charles squirmed beside Bel, who released a robust laugh and said, “A betrayal is how our Letty views it, and in a manner of speaking, she is correct.”

“You are just a fledgling, and can’t understand such things,” Charles answered Letty.

Lady Marling’s lips quivered with mirth as she said, “You see, child, what Charles is trying to say is that some women choose different roads than others and are treated by the…”

“No,” Letty cut her off, realizing she had done so, blushed but proceeded. “Some women don’t choose different roads. Some—many women, have no or little choice at all.”

“Indeed,” Aunt Fanny said on a frown, “I fear you are quite right. However, here in France, you may attend any number of events, and because the French have done away with the aristocracy as it once was…people are called ‘citizens’, and mingle through all walks of life with each other. It is perfectly acceptable here in France, but not in England.”

Letty sighed. “It should be. One is born by chance to a noble or a banker…or a farmer. Their birth should not define them.”

Bel grinned. “My little one speaks a deep truth.” He bent to take her chin in his gloved fingers. “You are a veritable warrior.”

Letty blushed and Bel changed the subject, advising them of Darcy’s behavior towards their Letty earlier, and ending by saying that the dratted man now knew the entire story.

Fitz shook his head. “I’ll tell you what. He isn’t one of my favorites. Shouldn’t have treated our Letty like that, even if he thought her a…a…shouldn’t have, and I knew the moment Darcy started talking fertility to Letty that it was a havey-cavey thing to do.”

“Fertility?” Lady Marling exclaimed.

“He means when Darcy talked some frippery flirtation…some nonsense about the goddess, Astarte,” Charles explained.

Bel’s brows drew together, and he said, “Do you know what? I agree with Fitz. John shouldn’t be talking such fustian at Letty!”

“Well, I will tell you this,” Lady Marling interjected. “All the merry fellows are talking fustian to our Letty. MacKinnon thought her a veritable angel, and if anyone is a judge of beauty, he is…indeed…”

Once again, Aunt Fanny was interrupted as Bel nearly shouted, “MacKinnon? Dan MacKinnon? Good Lord, never say you let him near my Letty?”

“As a matter of fact, I tried not to, but once his rogue eyes found her, he came down hard. However, he leaves in the morning with Cripplegate.”

“Does he?” Bel answered quietly. “Good. A dangerous lot, those two. They travel with Prinny, you know.”

“Why are they a bad lot?” Letty asked innocently.

“For one thing, Cripplegate wears a dahlia in his buttonhole the size of a cabbage and drives his horses cruelly,” Fitz answered, then added, “also, he has an evil tongue and bad manners.”

Aunt Fanny smiled and said, “I adore you, Fitz darling. That describes him very well.”

“I wonder what he is doing here in Paris,” Charles mused out loud.

“Oh, now that is a story,” Aunt Fanny answered with a twinkle. “It seems he met his match in that woman Mary Anne Clarke, and he actually doted on her, but she dropped him for a duke. He needed to save face, and left London to do that.”

“She chose the Duke of York?” Charles asked.

Lady Marling inclined her head, noting Letty was listening to all of this with her green eyes wide open. She laughed and pinched Letty’s chin. “Do you know, I have come to quite adore you, child.”

Bel smiled and leaned across to ask softly, “Are you tired, little one?”

“Yes, a little, but oh…I am so happy, and don’t think I shall be able to sleep,” Letty said warmly.

“I should think you will very likely fall off the moment that pretty head of yours touches the pillow,” the viscount returned.

Letty’s eyes poured into his, but their attention was taken away from one another by Fitz, who declared, “Sleep…need it, we all need it. Long journey, and then…gallivanting, all very well, but now to sleep.”

“Why, Fitz, that doesn’t sound like you at all,” Aunt Fanny remarked.

“No, it isn’t like me, and I blame the soup!” Fitz answered.

“Soup?”

“No…don’t ask him about it or we’ll have him complaining the rest of the way home!” Bel said on a laugh.

However, this did not deter Fitz, who went on to repeat his experience with the Russian and the soup to Aunt Fanny, and was still grumbling about it when they entered the central hall of her establishment.

Fitz mumbling, followed by Charles, allowed Bel to lead them into the library while the ladies retired to their suites.

“Fagged to death,” Fitz said, frowning at his cousin. “So say what you have to say and be done.”

“Have some brandy, Fitz, and then sit,” Bel answered.

Fitz found this an excellent suggestion and did just that as Bel turned to Charles. “Liz had it from Bourriene that Boney and Talleyrand are working out some sort of arrangement with the Americans.”

“Upon my soul! Why would the Americans get involved with him? They never helped the French during their revolution, which I always thought unfair, as the French helped them during their revolution,” Fitz interjected as he poured.

“Noddy, the French only helped the Americans because they were…against us!” Bel said impatiently.

Fitz grumbled about the Frogs and the colonies, but Charles stuck in, “Blister it all, how the deuce are we to discover what the colonies and the French are planning?”

“Dashed good question. I suppose we will have to sniff about a bit more, and pick up what we can,” Bel said on a heavy sigh.

“We aren’t part of the Home Office,” Fitz said sharply. “Not our place to sniff about. I am for going home.”

“Fitz has a point,” Charles said, frowning.

“Aye, I agree. Parisians are being damned discreet. We will attend Talleyrand’s party at his château outside the city, where we will be staying overnight, and perhaps we will pick up something useful,” Bel offered.

“Right then,” Fitz said, standing up. “I’m off for bed.”

“Bel.” Charles detained the viscount, who would have followed. “There is something else I should like to discuss with you.”

“Is there?” Bel’s brow went up.

“It is about Letty,” Charles started, and was aware when Bel stiffened. “I expect my aunt’s establishment to be inundated with callers, as she made quite a hit this evening. In fact, it won’t be long before one of the puppies who surrounded her earlier applies for her hand.”

Bel stared at his friend for a long moment before he said, “It is no wonder, Charles. What a beauty, and with her sweet disposition…but marriage to anyone just yet? No. Far too young, and besides, we don’t want her marrying a foreigner.”

“Bel, may I remind you that she has just turned twenty. Many women are married by the time they are eighteen. Besides that, her guardianship does not end until she is one and twenty, and therein lies the problem. When we return to London, if she is not at least betrothed, or soon to be…the Rochdales can claim their guardianship over her.”

Bel took to pacing. “I shall apply to my solicitor and see what can be done…declare the Rochdales incompetent…something.”

“Bel, it would be easiest if you considered allowing her…to contemplate marriage,” Charles suggested.

“Blister it, Charles. She hasn’t a choice here in Paris, and I won’t allow her to marry a damned Frog.”

“Indeed, I quite agree, especially with war looming, but we must prepare if we are to protect her from the Rochdales,” Charles said. “Now, I, too, am off to bed.”

Bel poured himself a brandy and took a seat to think about the problem alone. Gone was his ragamuffin. Gone was his madcap forever racing about, and forever following him all over the countryside. She had a way about her. She always made him smile. In her place was an exquisite woman. In fact, he was heartily confused by the stirrings she engendered in his breast. He was shocked at the desire he felt for her, the sudden urges he had to kiss her cherry-colored pretty lips. What was happening to him?

And…how could he allow another man to take possession of her? How?

 

* * * * *

 

Letty couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, and finally decided to get up and go down to the library to find a book that might make her doze off. She donned her dressing gown and hurried down the hall to the stairs.

Opening the library door, she immediately spied Bel sitting with a brandy in hand, and not in the least bit shy, she went right to him, said his name, and dropped to the floor to rest her cheek against his knee and say, “Oh, Bel. It was such a wonderful, exciting night, so I couldn’t sleep. Was it wonderful for you as well?”

His hand went to a curl that tickled her ear and he pulled it gently. “It was, but only because watching you enjoy yourself quite made the evening for me. But you must go up and get some sleep. You will have a big day tomorrow.”

“Will I? Why?” She was trembling from his touch. She wanted him to kiss her, willed him to kiss her. Faith! A kiss from Bel, that was all she asked for…now, a kiss?

“I expect we shall have any number of morning callers…all coming to fawn over you,” he said, and gave her a warm, sad smile.

“Ah, bah, I hope not,” she answered with a grimace.

“You hope not?” He chuckled. “Did you not like any of the pups vowing their undying love to you this evening?” he teased.

“That is just it. How could they vow anything to me? They don’t even know me. I am the new maid at the ball…only that. I care nothing for such nonsense. Bel…you…Charles, and Fitz are all the male company I need or want.”

Bel laughed and took her hands as he got to his feet and pulled her to hers. “Letty…” His voice trailed off.

Kiss me, Bel, kiss me now. I am a woman, and I am inviting your kiss, her heart called out to him as her eyes stared hard into his, and her tongue licked her bottom lip.

“Letty…”

“Do, Bel…do kiss me…please.” She couldn’t believe her own boldness, but she was so tired of waiting demurely. If she didn’t come into her own, if she didn’t seize the moment, she would lose the moment.  

“I…I shouldn’t, but…” the Viscount of Belfort apparently gave in to the ‘but’ before he was able to stop himself. He scooped her into his arms and took her lips beneath his own, parted them as his tongue found and taught hers the dance of passion.

Letty had never been kissed quite like that, and she gave herself over to him, fell willingly into a wanton need to have more of his kisses, but all at once, he pulled away, thrashing his hair with his hand as he exclaimed, “Letty, forgive me, I am a cad!”

“Oh no, Bel…no! I asked for that kiss, and as my dear friend, you obliged. Allow me to tell you just what a wonderful kiss it was. I have only been kissed a few times in my life, once from a groom at Rochdale, once by one of Thomas’s less odious friends, and once by clumsy Thomas. None of those kisses were worth a sou. Your kiss was everything a kiss should be.”

Bel’s surprise at her confession turned into a chuckle that set him fairly into mirth. It ended with him hugging her to himself and kissing the top of her head. “My own little one.”

Charles entered the room and stopped short. “Oh…hallo…came for a book.”

“Oh, Charles, you couldn’t sleep either?” Letty welcomed him warmly. “That is why I came, but I have changed my mind about reading and think I shall just go back to bed, and no doubt fall asleep.” She turned to the viscount. “Good night, Bel.”

He watched her go. Charles watched him before he released a slow whistle. Bel turned on him and demanded, “What was that for?”

“What indeed.”