Amelia's Intrigue (Regency Idyll Book 1) Page 4

  “But, Mama,” asked Miss Mapleton, helping her parent ascend into their carriage, “how long has it been since you have seen the earl? Are you sure ’tis truly him?”

  “What? Of course ’tis Geordan. Why on earth would you ask such a nonsensical question, Amelia'?”

  “Only because no one appears to have seen him in twenty years. Mama. Mr. Talbot has taken Lord Rutlidge's place in society.”

  “I see,” murmured LadyMapleton thoughtfully, leaning back against the squabs. “You have one great fault, you know. Amy. You have always been much too determined to find mysterious reasons for the most commonplace things. I have always thought that one day you would become an authoress.”

  “Oh, Mama, that is not true,” protested Miss Mapleton. “You are sure that gentleman was truly Lord Rutlidge?”

  “Well, now, let me think,” breathed Lady Mapleton. attempting not to laugh. “Was his hair the most unusual auburn colour you have ever seen? And were his eyes such a deep blue that you might think to see ships floating about in them? And when he grinned, did his expression not tilt lopsidedly and make you wish to grin right alone with him? Yes, my dear, that gentleman is, indeed, the Earl of Rutlidge. I knew him the moment I saw him.”

  Miss Mapleton spent the ride home and the rest of the afternoon contemplating the earl and Mr. Talbot. Her first impression had been that the two could not have been related at all. They looked most unlike one another. Not even their noses matched. Not even their ears. although the earl's ears had been mostly hidden by his unruly locks: And Mr. Talbot undoubtedly looked the elder of the two, which, of course, could not possibly be case. And was it not odd that the earl should suddenly appear in London after all these years, just at the time when she had begun to ask questions about him?

  AS Tony and Geordan drew up before Rutlidge House. the earl's eyes began to glow. He studied the huge old facade from top to bottom and side to side. “Are you sure this is ours?” he asked in a rather breathless voice.

  “Not ours, rascal, yours. And yes, I am quite sure. Why? Does it not please you?”

  Geordan turned to him, obviously awestruck. “It is v-very civ'lized looking, T-Tony. If M-Mouse and I t-tried to go in, I think it would s-spit us b-back out again.”

  “Well, Mouse had best not try to enter. But you, I think, may. Look, there are Simpson and Parsons both come to lead you into the very pit of its stomach.”

  Simpson and Parsons had both dashed, without the least heed to propriety, through the front door and down into the forecourt.

  “Master Geordie,” Parsons cried, beaming, “I never thought to see the day.”

  “Such a surprise,” added Simpson, grasping the hand Geordan extended to him from the saddle. “I shall have your chambers set to order immediately, my lord. And perhaps,” he added with a sly glance at Talbot, “we may now see the Holland covers removed from the furniture in the front parlour.”

  “And some flowers cut and set about,” offered Parsons.

  “And the remainder of the shutters taken down,” added Simpson, pressing his luck.

  “And perhaps a new butler and a new valet,” grinned Talbot. “Go on, off with the both of you. Tyler and Martin are behind us with Lord Rutlidge's things. They, too, will be staying, and I suppose we shall need to open up the house all the way and engage someone to help Mrs. Ware and Dancell in the kitchen.”

  “We will need, perhaps, a footman or two?” Simpson queried innocently, “and a few maids? Well, I mean,” he added as Talbot's eyebrows began to rise, “if we are to open the entire house, it must be kept presentably, Master Tony. With Lord Rutlidge in residence we cannot possibly go on in the ramshackle fashion we have done. We may even have guests,” he suggested with a grin, “who are neither lawyers nor overseers.”

  The earl, his eyes still roaming over the mansion, chuckled low in his throat. “And I thought you to be al-ways so g-gay in t-town,” he said, turning his innocent eyes fully upon his brother. “What a d-dull time you s-seem to have had of it, T-Tony. But do n-not d-despair, Mouse an’ I will f-fix you up.”

  “Oh, no!” groaned Talbot dramatically, making the earl laugh. “I do not think I am ready for that! Go easy with me, Geord, or I shall fall into an apoplexy from over- excitement.”

  Once the earl had stabled Mouse and seen Tyler and Martin safely arrived, he consented to lie down upon Tony's bed and rest while his own rooms were being prepared. With a sigh, Talbot closed his bedroom door on his brother and stepped into the dressing room. “We shall have to make him a bit more presentable, you know, Parsons,” he said softly.

  Parsons nodded.

  “I shall get Hershey to cut his hair, though I doubt Geordan can be persuaded to let him crop it into the height of fashion.”

  “That, sir, would be criminal,” Parsons frowned. “Those beautiful curls brutally chopped? Totally unacceptable. He shall have his own style.”

  “Yes, and will he have his own style of dress as well, Parsons? Or do you think I might persuade Holtz or Schweitzer and Davidson to take him in hand? And perhaps I might talk Hoby into making the scoundrel a pair of boots as well? I tell you what we will do, Parsons. We will wait until Tyler has unpacked his gear and then the three of us will consult on it.”

  “Does Tyler stay to valet him?”

  “Well, yes and no Parsons. Yes and no. I did tell Geord that you would not have time to attend the both of us, which, of course, ain't exactly true. Tyler stays mainly to keep an eye on him when we are otherwise occupied. And Martin will accompany him on rides as he did in the country. But the rest of us must keep our eyes open and our wits about us as well for we don't none of us know how being in town may affect the rascal.”

  THE effect of London on the Earl of Rutlidge, however, was not nearly as traumatic as the earl's effect on London. The patronage at White's and Watier's and Brooks's increased considerably with the expectation that Mr. Talbot must certainly present his brother for admission into these most exclusive of men's clubs. Wives begged their husbands to dine away from home and spend time at the gaming tables. Daughters of marriageable age added their pleas as well. Hostesses began to devise the most outrageous entertainments with which to tempt Mr. Talbot and his brother into their homes. The daily promenade of the ton through Hyde Park between the hours of five and six in the afternoons became so well-attended that one could move at only a snail's pace. Theatres held capacity audiences every night, each patron hoping for a glimpse of the elusive earl. And the Prince Regent, himself, was known to have invited Rutlidge and Talbot to a private dinner at Carlton House. Had Geordan realized that his presence had caused so much stir, speculation, and hopeful expectation, he would have been sent off into whoops of engagingly boyish laughter. He remained, however, oblivious to the excitement and only asked his brother sweetly to take him to the places his Uncle James had read to him about.

  First they went to the Tower and spent three hours gazing upon lions and tigers and bears. Geordan was entranced by them, and Tony was entranced by his brother. The following day they drove to a fenced piece of ground near Fitzroy Square where Mr. Trevithick's locomotive went round and round on a small circular track pulling a carriage behind it. A number of cits stood watching the little steam-powered engine, but not one of them seemed eager to ride behind it. After staring at it himself for a while, Tony began to feel hypnotized by the thing and turned to see if it was having the same effect upon Geordan. He discovered that the earl had turned his back upon the engine and was speaking intently with a gentle-man of medium height, whose brown hair was cropped and combed carefully into a windblown style. Talbot walked over, put .an arm around his brother's shoulder and introduced himself to the gentleman who, he discovered, was the engine's creator, Mr. Trevithick.

  “I am s-sure it is the m-most amazing thing,” Geordan announced, his eyes glowing. Mr. Trevethick needed no other encourwrient than the earl's interest to proceed with an explanation of how the locomotive worked, the premise upon which the engine had be
en based, and the difficulties involved in bringing his ideas into reality. In a short time, Tony, Geordan and Mr Trevithick were inside the fence. The locomotive's progress was halted, and the earl and the inventor climbed beneath it, on it and in it. One pointed out the intricacies involved in its operation, the other urged him on with a raging curiosity and a propensity to ask exactly the right question at exactly right time. Before he had become quite aware of what was happening, Tony found himself seated in the coach between his brother and Mr. Trevithick as the locomotive carried them around and around and around on the rails.

  “I’m s-sorry, T-Tony,” the earl murmured a bit later as he and a broadly grinning Mr. Trevithick helped Talbot from the carriage and into his curricle. “I d-didn't know it would m-make you d-dizzy. Thank you, Mr. Trevithick,” he added, taking the reins.

  “Oh, no, my lord,” grinned Trevithick, “thank you. I have not enjoyed so much enthusiasm for my little locomotive in a long while. Come back anytime. We will have an even longer talk, and we will not let your brother in the carriage with us.” Mr. Trevithick grinned and waved as the curricle moved off.

  “It is the m-most incredible thing, is it n-not, Tony?” asked the earl, handling the reins with one hand and putting an arm around his brother's waist.

  “You don't need to hold on to me, scoundrel,” Talbot muttered, a bit disjointedly. “I am not going to fall off.”

  “N-no, of course you ain't, T-Tony. Still, if you did, I could not g-get you back up. Not by myself.” The earl kept his grip securely on Talbot. “You will t-tell me if you think you are g-going to c-cast up your accounts again, w-won’t you?”

  “Yes,” Tony laughed, in spite of feeling queasy. “And I will attempt to do so more expeditiously than last time.”

  “Oh that d-don't matter, Tony. It ain't one of my new c-coats after all. Only I th-thought it would b-be better to stop the c-curricle for you.”

  “Exactly so,” agreed Talbot. “Geordie, can you get us home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” sighed Tony, and he rested his head upon his elder brother's shoulder and closed his eves

  MISS MAPLETON stood watching as her father donned his hat, pulled on his kidskin gloves, and took his cane from the stand near the front door. “Mama says you are off to Watier's, Papa.”

  “Yes,” her father answered, turning to study her proudly. “You look charming, Amelia. Almost as beautiful as your mother when she was your age. She says you both go to Lady Sonnesby's musicale tonight. If it were not so, I think I would be forced to accompany you just to see the young men's eyes light up. But 1 detest musicales. I should begin ranting and raving like a lunatic right in the midst of it.”

  Miss Mapleton smiled impishly up at hum. “I have heard stories, Papa, about you and musicales.”

  “No! From your mama?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And every word truth I've no doubt. I cannot be held accountable for my actions in the presence of a young lady with a harp or, even worse, a buxom songstress with lungs of iron. I have doubtless shamed your mother often.” He walked up to his daughter, took her face in both hands, and gave her a kiss on the tip of her pert little nose. “That,” he grinned. “is for luck, m'dear.”

  “Luck, Papa?”

  “Yes, you will need it to survive the evening. Believe me, Amy. It will be a dreadful bore.” Still a tine figure of a man, his shoulders broad, his back straight, his waist only a bit thicker than in his salad days, Lord Mapleton set his curly-brimmed beaver hat upon a full head of chestnut hair just beginning to grey at the temples, gave his daughter a broad wink, then turned toward the front doors. Just as Smythe reached out to open them, he turned back to his daughter once more. “You have met Lord Rutlidge, have you not, m'dear?”

  “Yes, Papa, as he and Mr. Talbot rode in from the country.”

  “How did he strike you, Amelia?”

  “Why, I am not sure, Papa. We spoke for only a moment.”

  “But you did not take the gentleman into instant dislike?”

  “No,” answered Miss Mapleton, puzzled by her father's question. “Why do you ask?”

  “Only because I am curious, m'dear. Good night, Amelia.”

  “Good night, Papa.” Miss Mapleton watched him out the door, then ascended the stairs to the first floor where she settled into a comfortable chair in the library and began to page through a well-worn copy of The Lady of the Lake while waiting for her mother to finish dressing. When at last they arrived at Lady Sonnesby's musicale, they were both in extremely good humor, for Lady Mapleton had spent the ride relating to Amelia some of her father's more incredible lapses of sanity at such entertainments.

  “I vow,” that lady whispered as Lady Sonnesby and Miss Sonnesby came to welcome them, “I thought your Papa a veritable madman. I cannot understand how I came to marry him.”

  “Well, I, for one, am very glad you did, Mama,” grinned Miss Mapleton with a twinkle in her dark green eyes.

  “Catherine, Amelia,” smiled Lady Sonnesby, “we are so happy you have come. You did not bring Max, did you? No, I can see you did not. I thank you, Catherine, with all my heart.”

  Lady Mapleton laughed at the horrified look on Miss Sonnesby's face. “No, no, Laura,” she said, “do not look so at your mama, She was once an unfortunate young lady who played the harp in a musicale that Lord Mapleton attended.”

  “Oh, no!” laughed Amelia gaily. “Is it true, Lady Sonnesby? Was my father terrible?”

  “Totally mad,” nodded Lady Sonnesby. “I was never so embarrassed in my life. He was all apologies afterward, but I have been in a quake that he might come tonight.”

  “Aleatha, stop,” chuckled Lady Mapleton. “You will have Amelia and Laura both thinking Max a veritable boor.”

  “Oh, but he was, my dear,” murmured Lady Sonnesby with a smile twitching at her lips. “I am sorry for it, Amelia, but your mother married him in spite of all I could do to dissuade her.”

  LORD MAPLETON strolled into Watier's in expectation of a pleasant evening among his friends, but found himself instantly corralled by Lord Bristol and Lord Northampton. Each of them took one of his arms, turned him around, redeemed his hat, cane, and gloves from Chesterton at the door, and escorted him back down the steps and into a waiting carriage. “But I've pledged myself to Alversley and the others,” he protested, laughing.

  “Not to worry, Uncle Max. I have made your excuses.”

  “Am I kidnapped then, Robert? I really cannot be, for I want my dinner and am like to expire without it.”

  “Dinner shall be provided, my lord,” Bristol grinned. “In fact, ’tis all ordered and waiting for us as we speak.”

  “You did not order it, did you, Chet? I am not one of your poet friends who dines on celery and tonic water, you know.”

  “No, sir. David ordered it, I believe.”

  “David? I thought him in Bath.”

  “Well, he was in Bath, but it got very dull,” Northampton replied. “He and Kit await us at Grillon's.”

  “What? Christopher in London, too, and neither of them come to see their mother and I? What kind of sons have I raised?”

  “Suspicious ones, sir,” Bristol grinned as the carriage pulled up before the celebrated hostelry. “It seems your recent actions have become more puzzling than usual.”

  “Puzzling? Me?” asked Lord Mapleton, descending from the carriage. He stood before Grillon's staring up at the night sky. “No,” he said with a shake of his head, “no full moon tonight. Though I cannot think what else might account for the lunatics suddenly surrounding me.”

  “Stop, Uncle Max,” Northampton laughed, once more taking his arm and escorting that gentleman into Grillon's. “You have been caught in your deceits and shall be made to suffer for them.”

  “I am suffering now,” Lord Mapleton sighed. “Can you not hear my stomach growling? David, Kit,” he exclaimed at the sight of his sons, “come here and give me a hug before I mill the both of you down.”
>
  CHAPTER FIVE

  LORD MAPLETON, who was most unfashionably fond of both his sons, grabbed them roughly and gave them both a good shaking. “You will explain yourselves, gentlemen,” he announced with forced gravity, “but not before I am fed.”

  The food at Grillon's was acknowledged to be the best in London, and Lord Mapleton ate his way through four courses of heaven which included a ham baked in cinnamon and honey; artichoke hearts drenched in butter; raw oysters; beef a'la Mantua; a syllabub of fruit; coffee creams; and a burgundy as fine as any he kept in his own cellar. At the end of this repast, the covers having been cleared away and the after-dinner port set before them, Lord Mapleton's elder son raised his glass and proclaimed: “To the end of mysteries.”

  “Oh, I cannot drink to that, David,” Lord Mapleton said, a sparkle in his eyes. “I would not know how to exist without a certain number of mysteries. Which one do we drink an end to?”

  “The one into which you have tossed Kit and I and Robert and Chet, Father,” that young man declared. His eyes, like his sister's, were the brilliant green of emeralds, and he grinned in triumph. “You thought we would not discover it, but we have. And now you must explain all to us.”

  “All? Oh, no, David, 1 could not do that.”

  “Yes, you could, Father, and you will, too,” insisted Kit with a benign but stubborn expression. “We shall not release you from this parlour until you do.”

  “Dear me,” sighed Lord Mapleton, taking a sip of the port, “then we shall all be years late getting home, shall we not?”

  “No, but, Uncle Max,” Northampton protested on a chuckle, “we want to know what it is that you have gotten us into.”

  Then Bristol, Northampton, and David each produced a letter and placed them before the older man. He took them up one by one and appeared to study them fully. “Yes?” he asked at last.

  “You wrote them all, Father.”

  “Is there any reason, Kit, that I should not have written to you and David in Bath and suggested that you might find London equally entertaining?”