Love Charade Part 8

A smart curricle stood at the door to Linton House, a wiry lad holding the heads of a pair of beautifully matched blood chestnuts, as Justin emerged into the sullen afternoon. It was no longer raining, but an overcast gray sky hung low over the town.

"They look fresh, Tomas," His Lordship observed, climbing into the curricle and taking the reins between his gloved hands.

"Beggin' your pardon, me lord, but they've the devil in 'em.

Been eatin' their 'eads off for the last week," the tiger replied.

Justin only laughed. "Stand away then."

The lad released their heads and the pair sprang forward, hardly giving the agile figure time to leap up behind. Linton steadied them with a barely perceptible movement of his wrists and the magnificent equipage set off at a well-controlled trot out of the square, totally unaware of the pair of envious brown eyes watching from a second-floor window.

Madame Lutece, alerted by a wide-eyed servant girl,hurried into her shop as the Earl of Linton, with the brisk injunction to Tomas to walk the horses as he'd not be above a half hour, descended from the curricle outside her Bond Street establishment.

"My lord, this is indeed an honor. How can I be of service?" The beautifully gowned figure swept a

curtsy, hiding her sharp-eyed speculative look beneath lowered lashes.

The earl brushed a speck of dust from an immaculate forearm before replying. "I wish for an afternoon gown for a young lady, madame."

"Might I ask how young, milord?"

"Very young," Linton informed her succinctly. "Also rather small."

Madame schooled her features. If the Earl of Linton was setting up his mistress from amongst the infantry

that was no concern of hers, although reliable rumor had it'that Linton's tastes ran to the more sophisticated members of the demimonde.

"Something . . . demure . . . perhaps, milord?"

"We understand each other perfectly, madame."

A shrill stream of orders was issued to the waiting girls hovering in the background and within minutes a selection of crisp muslins, some sprigged, some figured, all in the first style of elegance was being paraded before His Lordship's knowledgeable eyes.

"That, I think." He pointed to a delicate pale green gown, sprigged with flowers in a darker shade with deep green velvet knots adorning the sleeves and a taffeta sash of the same color. It would be worn with a modest white fichu at the neck and a slight hoop.

"About fittings?" Madame inquired tentatively. "There will be none." The earl took snuff, snapping the box and replacing it in the deep pocket of his coat before looking around the group of girls surrounding Madame. "You, child." He beckoned and the smallest member of the group stepped forward hesitantly. "Would you oblige me by trying the gown?" A warm smile accompanied the request, lightening Milord's somewhat intimidating countenance. The child was a little fuller in the bosom than Danielle and a little shorter, but apart from that of very similar size. He gave madame his instructions regarding these matters coolly before continuing with the quiet request that she procure all the necessary garments to accompany the gown.

"Everything, my lord?" The astounded modiste could not keep the astonishment out of her voice.

The earl did not reply, merely raised his gla.s.s and examined her with haughty indifference until those sharp eyes dropped and a slight discomfited flush tinged the sallow cheeks.

"Do you find yourself in difficulties over this, madame?"

"No, no, not at all, my lord. I will send one of the girls to the milliners for .. . for everything. You . . .

you will require slippers also?"

"Everything. Also a warm cloak and a veiled bonnet. Is it quite clear?" He smiled pleasantly.

"Quite clear, my lord.. When will you be requiring the articles?" Madame Lutece struggled for

composure. Never had she received such a request in all her years as unrivaled modiste to the ton. She

was to scour the town for petticoats, chemises, pantalettes, stockings-everything!

"Have them delivered by five-thirty, if you please."

Madame gasped. It was now three o'clock. But Justin, Earl of Linton, was a customer whose value could

never be overrated. One day he would surely marry and his countess would then most certainly repay Madame's establishment for this minor inconvenience. Another deep curtsy saluted His Lordship's departure and with a piercing stream of invective directed at her luckless apprentices Madame Lutece gave vent to her injured dignity and furious frustration at the task facing her.

Blithely unaware of the dismayed furor his visit had caused, Linton continued on his way. A visit to his bankers, another to a well-known jewelers on Bond Street, and another to a discreet establishment where he procured toilet articles necessary to the comfortable travel of a young lady and he returned well satisfied to Grosvenor Square.

"Ah, my lord." Peter Haversham hurried across the hall at his entrance. "The prime minister will be happy to receive you at eight o'clock this evening. He has to be in the House for a vote at eleven o'clock but hopes this will be convenient."

"Perfectly, Peter." The earl preceded the secretary into the library. "I must ask you for one other small favor, I think . .. Ah, thank you, Bedford. Yes, you may pour me a gla.s.s of the claret."

"What would you wish done with the packages from Madame Lutece's establishment, my lord?" The butler handed his master a gla.s.s, keeping both face and voice bland.

"Have them taken to my apartments and inform Petersham that I shall not require his services until later

tonight. I shall not be changing for dinner."

"Yes, my lord." Bedford left the library, now firmly convinced that His Lordship was more than a little mad, unless he had been dipping very deep, which would be easier to understand but equally unlikely.

"Just so, Peter, just so," the earl observed coolly, seeing the broad grin on the young man's normally well-disciplined face. "Poor Bedford! I am sure he is convinced I have windmills in my head. Of course, he may be right," Linton added reflectively. "I begin to wonder myself."

"My lord!" Haversham was deeply shocked, but Justin just laughed.

"If I have, Peter, they are remarkably enchanting ones. Now, I shall be traveling by post tomorrow, so please see to it, will you?"

"You wish me to hire you a chaise, sir?"

The earl raised his gla.s.s. "That is what I said, I think," he commented gently.

"You will not be using your own coach, then?" the secretary mumbled lamely.

"Well, it might be a little difficult to travel in two carriages simultaneously, don't you agree?"

"I will see to it right away, Lord Linton." The young man bowed stiffly. "You wish for hired postillions?"

"Indeed. But I will take two of my own riding horses, should the chaise become too uncomfortable a

mode of conveyance." A sweet smile accompanied the soft statement.

The earl's apartments consisted of his bedchamber, dressing room and bathing chamber, and a well-appointed paneled sitting room. It was to the latter that he now repaired. A table was laid for dinner

a deux before the glowing hearth and a footman drawing the heavy crimson velvet curtains against the unwelcoming dusk turned at his entrance.

"Do you wish to be served, my lord?" he asked expression-lessly.

"No, you may leave everything on the sideboard. I shall serve myself." Linton went through to his

bedchamber. Madame Lutece's packages covered the bed and with a slight smile he rapped briskly on the door connecting this room tp the Blue Room.

"Old?" The soft voice sounded hesitant.

"May I come in, Danny?"

"Bien sur, milord."

Danielle was curled on the chaise longue under the window, completely enveloped in the dark brown velvet robe. She looked gratifyingly pleased to see him.

"I was feeling excessively lonely, milord. It is very strange to be locked in a strange room in a strange

house when you can hear so many things going on around and you have no part in them."

"But you were not locked in, Danny?" Linton picked on what he decided to be the central point in this swift-spoken speech.

"Well, I might just as well have been," she stated flatly. "I cannot imagine that your household would have

appreciated my appearance if I floated through the hallways in this robe- like Lady Macbeth!"

"I am sure you're right, brat." His lips twitched at the image thus created. "Come now, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise!" The small figure leapt to her feet, gathering up the voluminous folds of the robe as she stumbled across the room toward him. "I have never had a surprise, milord. At least," she added ingenuously, "not a nice one."

This matter-of-fact declaration had a strange effect on My Lord Linton, creating a most odd sensation in his throat.

"Well, infant, I trust you will find this one pleasing," he commented dryly, repressing the unwelcome emotion and bowing her ceremoniously into his bedchamber.

Danielle gazed wide-eyed at the parcels and bandboxes. "But what are they, milord?"

"Would you have me spoil the surprise, child? Open them."

With that total lack of inhibition or embarra.s.sment that no longer surprised him although continued to

entrance him, Danielle tore open the packages and with exuberant delight began to prance around the room, holding the delicate garments against her, rubbing her cheek against the soft fragrance of the finest linen. She seemed as delighted with the frilled pantalettes as she was with the gown and the dainty kid slippers.

"Am I to wear them, milord?"

"That was certainly my intention," he remarked gravely. "Unless you have an alternative suggestion."

Two dimples peeped. "Idiot!"

"Do not be impudent, brat," he chided with mock severity. "Go and dress yourself. Our dinner awaits and I have an inordinate dislike of cold food."

Danielle gathered up the clothesand then, underhis startled gaze, her face fell in a look of almost comical dismay.

"Whatever is it, Danny?"