Page 19 of Lady Beresford's Lover
“I shall leave you gentlemen to talk. Rupert, please join us for dinner later this week.” Rising, she gave her husband a hug. “Don’t be long, my love. We’re not going to have much sleep as it is before Elizabeth wakes.”
Rupert waited until he heard her climb the stairs before he turned to Robert. “What is it?”
“Lady Beresford. You appear quite taken with her.”
There was no point attempting to lie to his cousin, a man who had known him since childhood. “I am, but I shall not make the same mistake I made before.”
Robert raised one brow. “Which is the reason you were ready to take her to the museum to-morrow?”
Drat.Was he rushing his fences again? “I’ll go slowly.” Rupert grinned. “And if I forget, I know my older cousin will remind me.”
“I hope you take advice better than I did.” Robert grimaced.
“You can be sure I shall.” Rupert began walking to the hall with his cousin beside him. “I have no desire to be in either my mother’s or grandmother’s black book. All I plan to do is to squire her around and see what occurs.”
“Harrumph.”
“I promise.” He was hard-pressed not to laugh. “I won’t do anything I should not.” After all, he had never had a rakish disposition. Why should he acquire one now?
“Do remember she is some sort of connection of Phoebe’s,” Robert responded in a dry-as-the-desert tone.
“As Serena is?”
Robert shuddered. “Exactly. Marcus may now think of you as a younger brother, but Phoebe will not be as generous should you break the lady’s heart.”
Yet another reason to go slowly. Rupert gave Robert an innocent smile as the butler handed him his hat and cane. “No doubt we will meet to-morrow.”
As he walked down the steps, he glanced at the sky. The clouds had cleared, and the moon was bright enough to guide his way. A footman held his carriage door open. “Thank you, but I’ll walk home.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Although going down Carlos Place was a more direct route, Rupert soon found himself on Mount Street at the entrance to the garden.
I wonder where exactly she is staying.
He would have to find out soon if they were to visit the museum. His mother should know, or he could ask Phoebe. But he really didn’t want all of his friends following his progress with Vivian.
He scanned the windows of the houses bordering the park. She had probably retired at least an hour ago. There was no reason for her to still be up at this time of the morning. Whether she was as interested in him as he was in her might be the better subject to dwell upon. She had the same fair loveliness as Miss Manning, but Vivian’s beauty was more ethereal and her demeanor was more mature, yet at the same time she reminded him of the crystal he’d seen blown in Venice, delicate and fragile. For both their sakes, Rupert would need to proceed carefully with her.
A flickering light shining from a window caught his eye at the same time as a man said, “Don’t mean you no harm, guv’nor. But a body’s got to make a living.”
Strolling through the park at this time of night had not been one of his better ideas. He took out his quizzing glass, turned it on the man, and studied him from the top of his greasy hat to his worn-out shoes. Rupert enjoyed helping those less fortunate than he, but that did not mean he would allow himself to be robbed. A compromise that would allow the other man to save face and buy some victuals was called for.
Tucking his quizzer back in his waistcoat, he used his grandfather’s you-are-the-dirt-beneath-my-feet tone. “A crown. You’ll get no more from me. If you try, you’ll receive nothing.”
The thief spit and eyed Rupert’s tiepin. “Ain’t like you can’t afford it.”
“Ah, but you see”—he pulled out his stick sword, and the man swallowed—“that particular item has sentimental value to me. What’s it to be? The crown or nothing?”
“Ain’t it my bleeding luck to come across a knowing one?” the thief said in a thoroughly disgusted tone. “I’ll take the crown.”
Less than a second after Rupert flipped the coin to the would-be robber, the man caught it and melted into the shadows. In the morning he’d have his secretary contact the local magistrate. Something should be done to better protect innocent citizens.
Rupert searched for the light only to find it had disappeared. To-morrow he’d discover where Vivian was.
Gisila lay on Vivian’s chest, making it necessary for her to hold her book off to the side. After a few minutes she gave up the pretense of reading and stroked the cat, who showed her pleasure by purring deeply. “Not that you care, but I neglected to tell Lord Stanstead where I am residing at the moment.”
Perhaps it was for the best. Clara was right, he was more than likely amusing himself until he married a younger lady. Vivian just hoped he wouldn’t wed that rude girl.
