Beguiled. Susan Paul Spencer
intend to accompany me to my mistress’s home and wait for me until I’ve finished with her? Will you watch over my house while I’m sleeping? Surely Cardemore doesn’t expect me to flee the country in the middle of the night.”
“You’d have to ask Lord Cardemore what he thinks, my lord,” the man answered evenly. “I don’t make a habit of questioning my employers.”
“Certainly you don’t. Dogs are obedient to their masters.”
A thin smile curled the man’s lips. “Wise dogs are, my lord, which is a lesson I recommend you learn to live by until you’ve regained your debts. I was curious to see that Lady Lillian left Almack’s shortly after you did. Perhaps you’d best tell me what transpired, as I shall need to know what to report back to Lord Carde—”
Graydon shoved the man up against the wall of the nearest building, easily lifting him by the collar until they were eye to eye. “To Lord Cardemore? You need to know what to report back to your demon master?” He thrust the man harder into the bricks. “You tell him that he should’ve warned me beforehand that the sister he claims to love so well is mute. You tell him, you filthy cur, that I very nearly humiliated that same sister tonight because I wasn’t prepared, because of my shock. I can only thank a providential God that my mother taught me so well never to embarrass a female in any event, else Lady Lillian surely would have found herself dancing alone on the floor at Almack’s. That’s what you tell him. Understand?” He hauled the smaller man a few inches higher for emphasis.
“Put ’im down, m’lord.”
Graydon glanced briefly to one side, seeing the two burly men who stood nearby.
“Ah, so the shadow has shadows of his own, does he?” His lips pulled back into a feral smile. “How very convenient.”
“Now, if you please, m’lord. We don’t want to make you do it.”
“Don’t you?” Graydon asked softly, lowering the other man slowly to his feet. “But I should like very much to see if you could.” To his captive he said, “Remember the message I want you to give your master. Word for word, you understand? And remember, too, that if I ever see you sneaking around and about me again I’ll make you very sorry indeed.” Then, raising one fist, he deftly sent the man flying into the arms of his guardians. “Now,” Lord Graydon said as his assailants stared at him in disbelief. “Shall we do this one at a time or all together?”
“Guess we’d better teach ‘im a lesson, Bill,” the taller of the two said as he carelessly tossed Cardemore’s insensible minion to the ground. “You hold ‘im, and I’ll school ‘im.”
Smiling, Graydon began to pull the gloves from his hands, but stopped when he heard Lord Daltry’s rather bored voice emanating from the darkness.
“I’m very sorry to interrupt,” said Daltry as he strolled into their midst, “and I know you’ll not forgive me for spoiling your fun, Tony,” he added affably, placing his large, muscular person companionably near his friend, “but out of respect for your dear mother, I fear I must. I would appreciate it if you…gentlemen—” he drew the word out meaningfully “—would take your friend and leave.”
“Your timing is unfortunate, Matthew,” Graydon said. “I was going to enjoy this.”
“I know,” Daltry said apologetically as the two ruffians took in his size with some dismay. “But, devil take you, can’t you confine your amusements to more conventional venues, like gambling and drinking and women?” With a nod at the man lying on the ground, he repeated, “Take him and go before I change my mind and let my friend vent his ire on you. I can assure you that his temper is dismally volcanic.”
Exchanging glances, the men clearly decided that they’d be better off doing as they were told. When they had dragged their companion away, Daltry turned to Graydon with a sigh. “You,” he said, “are getting to be an exhausting fellow to know. Here.” He pushed a dark garment at him. “You left your cape at Almack’s, along with your coach. I think tonight must be a record of some sort. You’ve managed to set London’s tongues wagging, send your coachman into a state of apoplexy wondering whether he should wait for you to return to Almack’s, and expose yourself to a deathly chill all in an hour’s time. Quite exceptional, even for you.”
“Yes, Mama,” said Graydon, setting the elegant cloak about his shoulders.
“Never seen you look so thunderstruck on a dance floor before,” Daltry continued pleasantly. “Was it the angel’s beauty that put you in such a state, or was it something she said?”
“The angel,” Graydon replied, leaning wearily against the wall, “didn’t say anything. She can’t speak. Either that or she won’t speak. She’s mute.”
Now it was Lord Daltry’s turn to look thunderstruck. “Mute? Cardemore’s sister? Are you certain?”
“I’m certain. Didn’t you wonder why such a beautiful woman wasn’t being fought over by every man in the room? Lady Jersey said that none of the men she’d introduced her to had asked Lady Lillian to dance. I can’t say that I wouldn’t have found some excuse to keep from asking her myself, if I’d known. Fortunately, she seems to be able to hear well enough. She must, for she clearly understood what I was saying to her, and she was able to dance in time to the music. But unless she’s profoundly unable to make simple conversation, I can only conclude that she is mute.”
“But surely Cardemore would have said something.”
“One would think so,” Graydon agreed. “Any decent, normal, civilized man would have. But not Cardemore. I can’t begin to fathom why he kept it from me, but it was a disastrous omission, especially for his beloved sister. I was so surprised when I realized the truth that I very nearly humiliated her, and disgraced myself.” He leaned his head against the bricks, staring up at the sky. “What was she thinking all that time while I chattered on? I don’t even remember what I was saying…some idiotic talk about London, I think. It must have been a nightmare for the poor girl. The way she looked when she knew I’d realized why she was silent.” He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “I can only pray that we finished the dance cheerfully enough that the vultures will be somewhat tempered on the morrow.”
“You recovered well,” Daltry assured him. “And if that look you had on your face when she smiled at you was an act, then you should take up the stage, my boy, and stop depriving the world of your talent.”
Graydon remembered with some discomfort how thoroughly Lady Lillian’s smile had stunned him. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, but when she smiled she was something else again. Just the memory made him feel slightly dazed.
“Was she all right after I left?” he asked. “I should have stayed, but I was so angry that it was either leave and take my tongue with me or stay and bid Cardemore to the devil in front of too many of the ton’s best gossips.”
“She seemed a little embarrassed, if that’s what you mean,” Daltry confided, “but no damage was done. A few other fellows approached her. Seaborne Margate, for one. I suppose, having seen you come out of the experience intact, they decided she was safe.”
“She danced, then?”
“No. She evidently didn’t appear safe enough for that. But it didn’t matter. Lady Isabel declared that she was tired and wanted to leave. They make a habit of keeping country hours in the city, or so the chit informed me.”
“Lady Isabel?” Graydon grinned at his friend. “Did you dance with her, Matthew?”
“If you could call it that.” Lord Daltry gave a wry chuckle. “It was more like a wrestling match, trying to lead her about. Gad, she’s got more muscle on her than my younger brother. And when she got excited, which was every five seconds, she squeezed my fingers so hard I can swear that they’ll be bruised in the morning.” He shook the hand in question as if to drive the painful memory away. “They go riding every morning, she and Lady Lillian,