~ Sixteen ~

 

 

SIR CHARLES SAT PENSIVELY BY the parlor window, which skirted the rear gardens of his aunt’s Parisian lodging. A harsh March wind bent the courtyard trees, and the grass etched out in squares between the stonework paths looked a wintry yellow. He sighed ruefully at the scene.

He had devised a plan to help Letty and Bel come to grips with what they felt for one another. He was sure his dearest friend was madly in love with Letty, but wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. He was certain Letty was in love with Bel. He simply had to do something about it!

Sprite-like, Letty pranced into the parlor with Max hopping along beside her. She planted herself on a gold-cushioned Louis XVI chair, and Max curled up contentedly at her feet. She greeted Charles merrily. “Good morning, Charles. It is so very early. I did not expect to find anyone up and about yet. The library is empty, and there isn’t a fire lit there yet, so I hope you do not mind my interrupting you here where it is warm and cozy.”

“Mind? Dear Letty…but no, you are not a child, are you, dear?”

She beamed at him. “No, I am not.”

“What you are is a delight,” Charles said with a warm smile.

“How sweet you are, and I am so very glad for your company. I did not wish to tackle Rousseau again, at least not now.”

“Ah, do you not care for his work?”

“Oh, I admire his wit immensely. It is just that I cannot seem to concentrate now when my mind is so full of…everything. Do you realize that today is the second of March? Indeed, reminds me of a nursery rhyme.

 

“March brings breezes loud and shrill,

And stirs the dancing daffodil.”

 

He smiled fondly at her, thinking that if only Bel were not blind, they would have little need of spring settings. Letty was spring enough. He chose his next words carefully.

“Letty, I have been wanting a private word with you, but it is something of a very personal nature, and please…do not take affront, just hear me out.”

“Of course, Charles, tell me what is on your mind.”

“I want to do everything I can to help you achieve yours and Bel’s mutual happiness.”

Letty said nothing to this, and he hurried on. “I am aware of your attachment for Bel…?”

Letty blushed furiously, and he said, “Ah, I see I am not wrong. Let us consider the facts. You must marry to achieve freedom from the Rochdales. We all want that, however, would it be fair if you married another when your heart belongs to Bel?”

“No…I shall not marry anyone I do not love…completely,” she said softly.

“I thought not, therefore, we must discover if the viscount returns your affection. I believe he does. I have seen him look at you in a way…but I don’t want to give you false hope. He is strong-minded and has believed for some years now that he is meant to be a bachelor until he is forty years old. I also believe the trick here is to get him to believe he won’t be happy with any other woman…and that you are his match. We must make him aware of his own heart.”

“I will not play games,” Letty stuck in hurriedly. “If Bel loves me, he must see that on his own.”

“Fustian,” Charles said impatiently. “I didn’t say anything about games, or trickery for that matter. I said we must make him aware of how he feels.”

“By what means, Charles?”

“Bel thinks he shouldn’t marry until he is forty, and then only because it is incumbent on him to produce an heir. ’Tis absurd. We need to make him realize the time is now, and the woman is you.”

“I am not so naïve that I believe this could be done without…applying myself to flirt outrageously with him…use my wiles to seduce his heart, and I won’t. I cannot. I am in earnest. What I feel is real. Who I am…is exactly who I present. If he is to fall in love with me, he must do so honestly, and without any games.”

“Foolish child, and I say child now, for you are not a woman. A woman knows that some men need a nudge in the right direction. That is all I am asking of you…a nudge. Don’t fall into the error of believing a man like Bel meets a woman, falls in love, and marries her. Not a man like Bel. He will fight it all the way. He has had all sorts of traps flung at him and has never succumbed, but I believe he feels differently about you, and therein lies your advantage.”

“No, I don’t want an advantage. I want his heart freely given or not at all.”

“Listen to me, Letty. Bel has always cared for you, and lately, I have seen it mushroom into something else. He takes you and your hero worship for granted, and believes you, in some odd way, belong to him. He is reluctant to allow you to be courted, and the only reason I can find for that is he wants to hold on to you for himself. All that is needed is a push…a pinch, as a starter to see how he squeals…”

“Charles, that is horrid,” Letty interrupted. “I don’t want Bel to squeal.”

Charles chuckled. “We need to make him examine what he feels for you.”

“But your theory supposes that he…is in love with me,” she said haltingly.

“Does it? Perhaps. However, my plan supposes that when we are done, he will be.”

“No.” Letty shook her head.

“Letty, last night, when I entered the library…the two of you were…well, you were blushing,” he said softly.

“No, I say no. I do love Bel, too much to trick him…to try and make him jealous…or try and seduce him. You don’t understand. I don’t want him if he is going to be forever off gaming or sporting, or with a fancy piece on the side. When I marry, I want…I want a man to love me as much as I love him.”

“Didn’t I once tell you that you are Friday’s child? I was wrong. Letty—the child that is born on the Sabbath Day—is blithe and bonny, good and gay. You are that, and it won’t do you any good in the end.”

She said nothing to this, but bent and rubbed Max’s ears.

Charles inclined his head, laid his hand on her knee, and said quietly, “Indeed, it is Sunday’s child you are, and I hope you ain’t going to suffer for it.”

 

* * * * *

 

Bel entered the room just then, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically, only to bring himself up short at the iniquitous vision that met his violet eyes.

It occurred to him that his Letty looked ravishing in the yellow morning gown she wore, but then his eyes found her knee, where Charles’ hand had strayed consolingly.

Two pair of eyes looked up at him, and he was sure both wore a guilty expression.

Charles withdrew his hand and said, “Good morning, Bel.”

Bel nodded as his teeth unclenched. “Letty, Aunt Fanny wants you in the morning room to help her with the invitations for tomorrow’s party.”

Letty rose, Max jumped to his paws, and she touched Bel’s arm as she passed, and said lightly, “Good morning to you to, my dear Bel.”

Damn, but her green eyes twinkled, he thought as he smiled and patted her hand. “Off with you, madcap.”

She laughed and left the room immediately. Bel turned toward Charles and frowned.

“Now what is it?” Charles shot at the viscount.

“You, taking a liberty with Letty,” Bel snapped.

“Liberty?” Charles said, looking shocked, then laughing out loud.

“Devil a bit! Nothing to laugh about. You have to be careful with her. Letty is still young and very innocent.”

“You have a maggot in your head,” Charles answered easily.

“You had your hand on Letty’s knee!” Bel said sharply. “That is taking a liberty.”

“Well, dear, dear,” Charles answered. “I am just so fond of her, perhaps more than I realized.”

Bel favored his friend with a smoldering look and demanded, “Blister it, Charles. What do you mean by that?”

“Mean?” Charles said evasively.

“Doing it rather too brown. Out with it. Said you were fonder of Letty than you realized. What precisely does that mean?” the viscount asked thunderously.

“Simply that, Bel. Nothing to go off in a huff about. I care for Letty…a great deal, I suppose just as you do.”

“As I do? No one could feel for her what I feel, so don’t be comparing yourself and your actions with mine.” Bel was now out of temper. He wouldn’t have it. He thought of Charles as his dearest friend, but…and there it was, the ‘but’. Why should he be upset if Charles wanted to court Letty? Why?

He gave his friend a scalding look, turned on his heel and took a turn about the room. When he came back to sit across from Charles, he changed the subject. “I’m off to see Liz after breakfast, but I tell you frankly, Charles, it’s more a chore than a pleasure. My heart ain’t in it.”

“Heart doesn’t have to be, Bel,” Charles returned. “She ain’t so hard to look at, so buck up, ole boy.”

“You don’t understand, Charles. Something is wrong with me. I see the prettiest women here in Paris…and I don’t feel the least bit of stirring. Not like me. Not like me at all. She is clever, you know…Liz. She will know if I try to…” He shook his head. “Never mind. What are your plans today?”

“I thought I would take Aunt and Letty about town…for Letty’s pleasure, as I am certain Aunt has already been to most of the sights.”

“Oh? When do you leave?” The viscount eyed his friend.

“After breakfast, when you will be busy with…”

“Have a notion to come with you,” Bel cut in. “Damn if I won’t.” All at once, Bel looked cheery. “Like to have another look about town, maybe see what Boney has been up to.”

Fitz walked in just then and planted himself upon the wooden arm of the sofa, nodding his greeting with a vague smile.

Aunt Fanny’s butler followed Fitz into the room. He had a silver salver with a card resting in its center and said, “Excuse me, gentlemen, I thought her ladyship was with you.”

“No, Toddle, she is in the morning room,” Charles said.

“Very good, sir,” Toddle said, and was about to turn.

“Hold there,” Bel called out, stopping him. “Who is out there?”

“Why, a foreign gentleman, my lord,” Toddle answered.

“Blister it, Toddle, everyone in Paris is foreign,” Fitz exclaimed, taking an interest.

“Yes, of course, however, he sounds Russian to me, and he has asked to see Miss Rochdale.”

“Oh, has he?” Bel said, standing up. “Send the impudent dog off!”

“No, no, Bel, you can’t do that. Shabby thing to do, and besides that, this is Aunt Fanny’s establishment.” Charles got to his feet and moved towards the door, which he held open for the harried butler. “Go on, Toddle…take his card to Lady Marling.”

“Well, come along then, we will be in the morning room to greet the Russian when he is shown in,” Bel said, and walked out.

Fitz and Charles exchanged a look and followed him.

The three gentlemen barged into the morning room, and the viscount went directly to Letty and seated himself beside her on the pretty yellow settee.

Toddle, who had given Lady Marling the Russian’s card, returned in a few moments with the gentleman at his back and announced, “Baron Wintzinkrode.” Toddle then bowed himself out of the room.

Much like a bull charging, the baron made his way to Lady Marling, took her hand, and clicked his heels even as he bent over her fingers.

“Told you, didn’t I? Slams those damned heels of his at every turn. Wished we could make him leave, but I daresay that might look rude,” Fitz said in a low voice.

The Russian didn’t seem to hear this, for he merely repeated the heel action with Miss Rochdale, who giggled and told him, “Dear sir, do sit and be comfortable.”

The Russian squeezed himself onto the settee, taking up the small space on Letty’s left side. Bel was scarcely able to contain his annoyance.

Letty got to her feet and moved to sit with Aunt Fanny on the sofa. Bel smiled and inclined his head to her, but it was at this moment that they were visited with more callers. John Darcy and a French cavalier joined them, and a liveliness filled the room.

Letty stood and found herself surrounded by gentlemen all intent on catching her attention and whispering in her ear.

The viscount frowned, as he suddenly felt himself displaced and piqued. He was half inclined to leave and saunter off to flirt some information out of Liz, but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

It was at that precise moment Letty looked up and across the room at him, and he felt the breath wrenched from his lungs. Whenever did she learn to use her eyes like that?