“Oh, I am delighted to hear you say so.” Tapping her fan to his shoulder, Arianna asked, “Would you be so kind as to ask the waiter for a glass of champagne, sir?” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I much prefer bubbly to ratafia punch.”
“Vile stuff, ratafia,” agreed Gavin. Neither he nor the honorable Mr. John Tipton had been present on the night of the Prince’s poisoning. However, Lady Spencer had frequently mentioned them as being part of Prinny’s inner circle of friends, whom the newspapers had dubbed the Carleton House carousers.
“Have you ever tried brandy?” asked Tipton, after exchanging a look with Concord.
She giggled. “Yes, but on the sly. It was strictly forbidden by my late husband.”
“I bet that made it taste even sweeter, eh?” said Concord slowly.
“Yes.” This time her laugh was a little throatier. “But I daresay I shouldn’t admit it.”
“Oh, we understand what you mean, Lady Wolcott,” assured Gavin.
Arianna took a swallow of her champagne, wondering if she was appearing too eager. She didn’t think so. According to Lady Spencer, young widows—preferably rich ones—were just the sort of females favored by men like Concord and his cronies. They had the relative freedom and independence to do as they pleased, provided they were discreet about it.
Besides, she had no choice but to flagrantly flaunt her availability. Time, as delineated by Saybrook, did not allow for a more subtle approach.
Drianing her glass she held it out for a refill. “Oh, how lovely to discover myself among such amiable gentlemen.”
Their smiles put her in mind of a pack of feral dogs eyeing a fresh bone.
“You know, we are holding a party the day after the morrow. It promises to be quite amusing. The thing is . . .” Concord fingered his watch fob. “Some of the guests do not move in quite the exalted circle of Society as your relatives. Would that be a problem?”
“My distant relatives,” stressed Arianna. “La, I am not a green girl, and they are not my guardians. They were kind enough to invite me to stay with them while they introduce me into the ton. But I intend to lease my own residence as soon as my man of affairs locates a suitable property.” Her fan swooshed back and forth, stirring a tickle of cool air. “To be honest, they are nice, but . . .” She mouthed the word “dull.”
“Ah. Dull is decidedly boring.” A speculative gleam lit in Concord’s eye. “But what of the earl? He appears to be your escort here tonight.”
Concord was, of course, aware that Saybrook was investigating the Prince’s poisoning, so she quickly moved to distance herself from him. Any hint of an alliance and all her plans would be for naught.
“I did not wish to offend my cousin Mellon. But the truth is, I find Lord Saybrook worse than dull—I find him forbidding.” She slanted a look across the ballroom to where he was standing in the shadows of the colonnading and feigned a shudder. “Look how he stands so solemn and silent. He reminds me of a monk from the Spanish Inquisition.”
“Lud, you are right.” Tipton made a face. “Dark, disapproving—he should have stayed in the god-benighted Peninsula, where he belonged.”
“I know him from my club, but I cannot say we are friends,” mused Gavin. “Indeed, I was greatly surprised that he chose to introduce you to us.”
Arianna was ready with an answer. “I asked him to.” She looked around quickly then lowered her voice a notch. “You three are the only interesting men in the room.”
“Clearly you have a very discerning eye,” joked Gavin.
Concord, she noted, had fixed her with an appraising stare. Taking care to appear unaware of his scrutiny, she playfully touched the cluster of fancy fobs dangling from Tipton’s watch chain. “What pretty baubles. Have you others dangling somewhere else on your person?”
Tipton swallowed a snort while Gavin leered.
As for Concord, he hesitated, and then the corners of his mouth turned ever so slightly upward.
Arianna slowly released her pent-up breath.
“As I mentioned, we will all be going on to a more intimate party after the Bushnell soiree on Thursday,” he said softly. “If you are free, perhaps you would like to join us?”
“I should like that, sir.” She lowered her lashes. “Very much.”
“You won’t bring the Holy Terror along, will you?” said Tipton.
“Good God, no.”
Tipton winked at his friends. “Excellent. We don’t want to be punished for any sins we might commit, heh, heh, heh.”
Arianna gave them a coy look. “Are we going to sin?”
“Oh, maybe just a little,” replied Tipton. “So yes, it’s best you don’t bring Saybrook.”
“Then again, maybe the earl is not incorruptible.” Concord’s gaze turned lidded. “I have heard that he is addicted to opium.”
“Is he?” she responded, widening her eyes.
Concord gave a slight shrug. “It’s said he nearly lost a leg to a French saber while fighting Soult’s cavalry on the Peninsula.”
Interesting. But any musing on the earl’s history would have to wait until later.
“Perhaps that explains his strange mood swings,” she said, making a moue of distaste. “One moment he is pleasant. The next he is, well . . . I fear that he is a little unstable.” A tremulous sigh. “I do hope I am in no danger riding home in his carriage tonight.”
“I’m sure you are quite safe, Lady Wolcott,” assured Gavin. “The earl is odd, but I don’t think he poses any threat.”
Unlike me, she thought with an inward smile.
“Thank you, that is reassuring.” Satisfied that she had titillated Concord’s interest enough for the evening, Arianna decided it was time to withdraw. Casting another glance at the far end of the room, she sighed. “I had better return to him now, before he grows too restless.”
The three of them responded with the requisite bows and polite murmurs.
Concord’s voice was the last to fade away. “Until later, Lady Wolcott.”
Yes, until later.
“I must warn you—your character has been savaged,” said Arianna over the clatter of the carriage wheels. “Perhaps beyond repair.”
“I daresay that I shall survive.” Saybrook flicked a mote of dust from his sleeve. “Did you have any luck with Concord?”
“Yes.”
He waited for her to go on. When she didn’t, he prompted, “And?”
“And you need not concern yourself, milord. I have the matter well in hand.”
The soft leather of the seat suddenly shivered against her spine as he turned and braced a palm against the squabs. “You have laid down a numbers of rules, madam. Now it is my turn,” said Saybrook. “You are free to hurl epithets and insults—it matters naught what you think of me personally. But make no mistake, when it comes to this investigation, I am in command.”
“I’m not used to taking orders.”
“Nonetheless, you’re going to do as I say,” he replied softly.
Lifting her chin in deliberate defiance, she replied, “And if I don’t?”
A plume of smoke from the oil lamp swirled in the low light, and for a moment it hung between them, obscuring his face. Then it curled upward, revealing a scimitar smile.
He was amused? Arianna wasn’t sure how to react. She still found the earl a conundrum, a puzzle whose parts didn’t quite fit together.
“Use your very vivid imagination,” he drawled.
The remark should have sparked her to even greater anger, but for some reason she found herself smiling, too. “You are flirting with danger in making such a suggestion, Lord Saybrook. As you know, I can be very inventive.”
“As can I, Lady Wolcott-Smith-Alphonse-Chocolat.” He shifted and suddenly his silhouette seemed to loom larger in the flickering lamplight. “Don’t cross swords with me on this. You won’t win, but we would both be compelled to expend effort that would best be directed at defeating the enemy.”