II #2
While they exclaimed their greetings, Nell noted only that her sister had grown plumper since their last meeting before her attention was claimed by the fact that there were four people in the room, and not three as she had expected.
Despite her desire to renew her acquaintance with her niece, her gaze was drawn, perforce, directly past the young girl, toward the darkly handsome gentleman behind her.
He was easily six feet tall, and his lean, muscular body was clad in buckskins, highly polished top boots, a buff waistcoat, and a dark brown coat.
It was apparent, even to Nell, that his tailor possessed a skill far superior to that of her brother’s man, for the dark coat was perfectly cut to fit a pair of the broadest shoulders she had ever seen and then nipped in again to hug the gentleman’s lean waist and narrow hips.
No ordinary tailor could have achieved such splendid results.
The extraordinary breadth of shoulder gave the dark gentleman the appearance of being slightly top-heavy, but the buckskins did nothing to conceal the rippling muscles in his thighs and calves, so one could not doubt that his long legs would capably support his magnificent torso.
Nell realized she was revealing unmaidenly curiosity by staring at the gentleman’s fine form and, with heightened color, lifted her gaze to his face.
His thick, dark hair was brushed forward so that tapering locks and heavy sidewhiskers framed his tanned, strong-featured countenance.
His jaw was pronounced, and the chin that rested upon the well starched folds of his neatly tied cravat gave the appearance of being firm to the point of stubbornness.
His wide, straight mouth was, in Nell’s opinion, well formed, though his lips showed a marked tendency to twitch just as her gaze came to rest upon them.
Hastily, she forced herself to look away, noting only the way his dark brows seemed to knit together in a natural frown above deep-set hazel eyes and high, well-defined cheekbones before she smiled an absent-minded welcome at her sister and the Earl Crossways.
Nevertheless, a sharp tug at her memory seemed to suggest something familiar about the stranger’s face.
It was Clarissa’s high-pitched laughter that finally recalled her to her senses.
“Really, Nell, you look quite bemused. I told Huntley you would remember him, but he was as sure as he could be that you would not.”
“Huntley?” Uncertainly, she looked back, only to find her gaze locked with a pair of twinkling eyes. The memory chord was plucked again, but the memory itself eluded her.
“Yes,” Clarissa replied, clearly delighted. “Mama … Nell, forgive my manners, won’t you, and pray allow me to make known to you the seventh Earl of Huntley, our darling child’s betrothed husband.”
Nell was still perplexed. The name meant nothing to her.
“Philip Radford at your service, Miss Lindale.” He bowed, watching her closely with a lurking twinkle still evident in those deep-set eyes.
His voice was low and a little gruff, but having heard it she wouldn’t have needed the name to guide her.
She remembered the voice, and the sound of it took her back over the years to her own short-lived social whirl.
Making her curtsy, she awarded him a dazed smile, striving to conceal the mixture of emotions washing over her at the memories his voice had stirred, and trying at the same time to discover a hint of the boyish face she remembered beneath the heavy sidewhiskers and the thick mop of hair. At that moment the penny dropped.
“Did you say Lord Huntley and Rory are to be wed?” she asked, astonished to hear her own voice firm and clear.
“Indeed, yes,” Clarissa replied. “Philip and Crossways signed all the necessary papers before we left home, but our darling has insisted upon a proper come-out, and Huntley has kindly agreed to indulge her wishes. Fortunately, he has business in the area, so it will be an excellent opportunity for them to become better acquainted, will it not?”
“Indeed.” Nell’s voice did not sound quite so firm this time. She glanced doubtfully at her mother.
“I should think they would already know each other if they are betrothed,” that lady stated, putting Nell’s own thoughts into words.
“Well, we don’t, Grandmama,” said the Lady Aurora flatly, speaking for the first time.
Nell’s eyes were brought to focus upon her niece at last. Though she could still see vestiges of the ragtail hoyden of bygone years in the slightly narrowed, golden eyes and the stubborn tilt to the pointed little chin, she had to admit that Rory had turned out better than anyone might have dared to hope five years before.
She was taller than Nell, and her slim-skirted, spotted muslin frock concealed none and, in fact, emphasized all of her slender, well-curved young body, from her high, full breasts to her rounded hips and long, tapering thighs.
Her thick golden hair had not fallen victim to the merciless cropping so much in fashion with the younger set, but had been allowed to fall loosely in natural ringlets about her pretty, marble-like shoulders.
Her only hair ornament was a bright red ribbon, matching the wide sash that nipped her dress in just under those magnificent breasts.
Red gloves, sandals, and reticule completed her outfit.
She swung the reticule by its tie-strings as she gazed directly at her grandmother and continued in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.
“Huntley’s estate marches to the north of Papa’s, and they determined between them to consolidate the two by making this match.
So, it is merely a marriage of convenience, you see, and that is why his lordship has graciously agreed that I might cut a dash before settling down as his countess in Kent. ”
“Very gracious, indeed,” commented Lady Agnes weakly.
But Lady Crossways took her at her word. “You may well say so, Mama, but then Huntley is always considerate.” She smiled condescendingly at the dark gentleman, a gesture that caused Nell’s own lips to twitch slightly.
Clarissa appeared to have changed very little over the years, except for her increasing waistline.
But the added pounds seemed to have kept the lines of age at bay, for her rosy complexion, despite her thirty-five years, was as flawlessly smooth as ever.
The present penchant for narrow, Grecian gowns did little to enhance her figure; however, she used her elegant India shawl to advantage, its deep folds and drapes doing a good deal to conceal the faults of her figure.
Her light blue, dark-rimmed eyes were as lovely as ever, and no one could deny that the artless tumble of red-gold curls à la Titus was anything but vastly becoming to her.
Nell realized Huntley was watching her and felt sudden warmth invading her cheeks, but if he meant to speak to her, he had no chance, for her brother chose that auspicious moment to make his entrance, followed shortly thereafter by the arrival of Sir Henry Sinclair, who had been invited to dine.
The latter gentleman’s appearance on the scene, though he claimed to have arrived before his appointed hour, reminded Lady Crossways that she and her daughter required some time to freshen up before dinner.
Crossways and Huntley likewise begged their hostess’s indulgence and retired with Kit to change for the meal.
Nell took her sister and niece upstairs, thus leaving Lady Agnes to entertain Sir Henry as best she might.
“Still just as fusty as ever,” stated Clarissa once they had entered the pretty yellow bedchamber allotted to Rory.
“Do you mean Sir Henry?”
“Of course. Who else? ’Pon rep, Nell, I am astonished the old gentleman don’t still powder his hair. He wears it long enough.” She patted her own stylish curls with an air of self-satisfaction.
“He has been very kind to us,” Nell said evenly.
There were two other women, unknown to her and clearly of the serving class, already in the room, and she did not wish to continue such a conversation in their presence.
“I do not mean to change my gown, Clarissa, but I’m certain my hair needs attention, and my woman will be waiting.
So if there is nothing further you require … ”
“Run along, my dear. Alice and Sadie will see to our wants, I assure you. But first let me say how pleased I am that you have agreed to show Rory just how to go on. The pretty puss has been cast into transports these weeks and more at the very thought of seeing Brighton under her favorite aunt’s guidance. ”
Nell gave a wry smile. “Since I am her only aunt …”
The Lady Aurora chuckled appreciatively. “Aunt Nell, I think we shall deal together famously,” she said, stepping forward with both slim hands extended. Nell found her own clasped warmly within them. “I was so afraid you’d be an antidote, but I can see at once that you are nothing of the sort.”
“Th-thank you.” The words rode on a gurgle of laughter.
“I think that must be a compliment. I shall certainly accept it as one. Now, do bustle about, you two, or Mama will soon be in a fret. Cook does not approve of odd dining hours, you know, and will be in a rare taking if you are not standing ready when her dinner is announced.”