Chapter Seventeen #2
Valor grabbed at a door frame and pulled herself inside a room to catch her breath.
She closed the door on the surging crowd, she could not think while being jostled like that.
She did not know what to do. The count had come behind Lord Tramondeley with a knife and Lord Tramondeley had chased after him.
She did not know why, but it seemed Lord Tramondeley had known why.
What if the count had another knife? Her father would know what to do, but she did not know where he was.
The room was filled with statues and various pieces made of gold, some large and some small, all on raised marble pedestals.
She presumed the prince wished to show off his wealth and royal possessions.
Valor walked back and forth to calm herself.
The knife, the suffocating crowd, it had all been too much.
Her temperament was not made for such things.
She must calm herself, let the terrible crowd in the corridor thin out, and then find her father.
Lord Tramondeley had been on the verge of asking and he’d almost been murdered right in front of her!
Why did he have to chase after the count?
It brought back all her fears about Lord Tramondeley—he took such risks!
Was it a part of his temperament that would never change?
Could she live with that? Could she live with terror in her heart every other day, never knowing what was to happen next?
What had he involved himself in that would cause the count to approach him with a knife in hand? Lady Letitia had claimed it was because both gentlemen were interested in her. She could not attribute such a violent action to that though.
And what a strange thing for Lady Letitia to say. The lady had seemed oblivious to either one of the gentlemen’s inclinations.
Valor stopped her pacing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the smallest bit of a dark coat disappear behind one of the larger of the statues. She was not alone.
The count stepped out from behind the statue. Valor felt she was almost going blind with terror.
“Lady Valor, do not alarm yourself,” the count said smoothly, “Lady Letitia has gone quite mad, as it was she that held the knife. When she noted I had seen it, she dropped it and attempted to shift the blame on me.”
Could that be true? Lady Letitia might have been irritated that Lord Tramondeley had not danced with her all night. But no, it was preposterous. A lady did not attack a gentleman with a knife. That was a man’s work. Anyway, why had he run away and Lady Letitia had not?
“In any case, it is well that all this is to be out in the open now,” the count said.
“What is to be out in the open?” Valor whispered. The count was slowly moving forward, as if to calm a skittish horse. Valor was slowly moving backward.
“I have been tracking Tramondeley’s movements,” the count said.
“That story of him harassing French frigates was just that—a story. The truth is he was going out in his sloop at night to deliver messages to the French. It was he who planted that story in the newspaper to discredit me. He understood I had discovered his game.”
The count moved ever closer. Valor was backed against the far wall of the room.
She did not believe any of it. Lord Tramondeley could be intemperate and too prone to taking risks, but he was not a liar and a traitor.
The liar was right in front of her and he was coming closer.
She glanced to her right. A heavy gold candelabra sat on a pedestal.
“Now, all this need not trouble you. I cannot know why Lady Letitia made such a move this night, but perhaps she sought to eliminate who she knew to be a spy for the French. There are those ladies the crown employs for such things. But as for you and I, none of this need affect us. These sorts of things do not occur in Hertfordshire, it is very quiet there.”
Valor looked at him in horror. He’d moved close enough that she could feel his breath. He was going to try to kiss her.
She grabbed the candelabra and hit him over the head. As he slid to the floor she recoiled, very surprised at her own strength. She picked up the skirt of her dress and leapt over him, running for the door.
As she neared it, four of the prince’s guards came through it, followed by Tramondeley. She threw herself in his arms. He caught her just as one of the guards called to Lord Tramondeley. “He’s here, my lord. Looks like he fainted.”
“No,” one of the other guards said, turning him over, “he’s got a gash on his head.”
“I hit him with a candelabra,” Valor whispered.
“Brave girl,” he whispered into her hair.
“Well, I had to,” Valor said, “you chased after him and he might have had another knife.”
“I went for the guards,” Lord Tramondeley said.
“Oh, well, that was very sensible.”
“I did not think he’d left the premises. I thought he might bide his time and try again. A cornered rat always bites.”
The guards had picked up the count, each lifting one appendage. As they passed by them, the lead guard said, “We’ll put it about that he’s drunk, lock him up, and then see what the Crown intends to do about him.”
Lord Tramondeley nodded, and they hauled the count out of the room.
Lord Tramondeley pushed her hair from her eyes as her pins had all come loose. “Now, as I was saying…well let me skip over the whole part of looking askance at your father. Lady Valor Nicolet if you do not agree to wed me, I will get on my sloop and sail into the ocean until I am dead.”
Valor shivered at the very idea. “I would on no account allow you to do such a rash and dangerous thing.”
“Is that a yes, then?”
“It is a yes, then.”
Lord Tramondeley bent over her and touched his lips to her own. He was gentle, as if he understood her.
“Are you frightened of me?” he asked.
“A little,” she said. “But not enough to keep you away.”
He kissed her again and she most definitely did not keep him away.
“My father will wonder where I am,” Valor said. “I should probably go into the prince’s table.”
Lord Tramondeley held her just a bit away from him and looked her up and down. “First, your hair is in a shambles. Second, there are blood spots on that lovely dress. Third, I would rather get you safely home.”
She had been so frightened of Lord Tramondeley’s bold nature, but now she was not frightened. He knew just what to do.
“Stay here, do not move,” he said. He went to the doors and motioned a footman passing by in the corridor.
“Retrieve the Duke of Pelham from the prince’s table.
Tell him his daughter has been taken ill.
Send someone else to the garden for Lord Ledderbey, he will be at the top of the table on the left-hand side. ”
Lord Tramondeley returned to her and said, “Might I take advantage of our remaining minutes alone?”
Valor nodded and he kissed her again, mussing her hair with his hands even more than he had done.
“I should go no further,” he said, pulling away.
“Just a little bit,” she said, pulling him close.
Valor was not entirely certain how much time they’d had alone. It was not forever though, no matter how much she might have wished it.
The duke appeared at the door. He took one look at the couple and said, “My daughter is ill, I believe I was told?”
“Not exactly,” Lord Tramondeley said. “You did hint an engagement would be approved.”
“I did,” the duke said, “though I do not recall any mention of approving a mauling of my daughter.”
“Oh, that was not him, Papa. I had to hit the count over the head and well, I got a bit mussed from the exertion.”
“Did the count offend you?” the duke asked.
“Not in the way you might think,” Valor said.
“Well, I never liked that fellow. Smarmy is what I thought.”
Valor did not explain just then that smarmy would be the least of it. She did not know why the count had wished to kill Lord Tramondeley, but she knew that he did.
Lord Ledderbey appeared at the door. “Gracious, what has happened in here?”
Valor glanced around and indeed it did look very alarming. There was blood on the floor and a candelabra laying nearby it. She did not have to look in a glass to know she looked a fright.
“Let us make our way out of the house,” Lord Tramondeley said. “Everyone is busy at their respective dining tables and we should have no trouble locating our grooms and sedan chairs.”
“Very well,” the duke said. “My daughter is in no condition to enter the prince’s presence at this particular moment. But I expect a full accounting of whatever has gone on.”
*
The party had hurried past the conservatory to avoid notice by the prince. Weston had got Lord Ledderbey into his sedan chair and then helped Lady Valor into her own.
The duke had demanded a full accounting of what had transpired at the fête, and so he got one.
Weston had told his part of it, including that he was known as the Mosquito and that he was certain the count had been looking for that individual in Cornwall.
That was why he’d hired sketch artists at his Cornwall party.
He then admitted that he’d had a copy made of Lady Valor’s sketch and kept it.
She looked pretty pleased about it.
Then he got to a more difficult part of the tale. When he explained Lady Letitia’s quick thinking in saving him from a knife attack, Weston thought everyone felt bad about any condemnations of the lady they’d been guilty of. Whatever she wore, whatever she said, she had saved Lord Tramondeley.
Lady Valor told her part of it. She’d been overwhelmed by the crowd and fought her way into the room to catch her breath. She’d not initially seen the count and when he revealed himself she’d been nowhere near the door.
That villain had tried to pin what he was guilty of on Weston.
“I did not believe it, though, Papa,” she said. “Then he came very close to me and said none of it need affect us and I really thought he was going to try to kiss me.”
“The rogue,” Weston muttered.