Valentine

Chapter Twenty-one

Sylvester saw Neil Gerard as soon as he entered White's. The captain was playing faro and seemingly absorbed in his cards. Excitement prickled along Sylvester's spine. The excitement of a huntsman scenting his quarry.

He stood for a minute in the doorway, watching the scene, then casually sauntered into the room. A group seated around a port decanter on a table fell silent as he passed; then the conversation picked up again. Heads were turned. He knew his face to be bloodless, his eyes to be veiled, all emotion wiped clean from his countenance as he strolled across to the faro table.

Neil Gerard felt Sylvester's arrival, and his fingers trembled slightly as he took up his cards. There was an almost imperceptible hush in the room, a sense of suspended animation as the Earl of Stoneridge reached Neil Gerard's table and paused beside his chair.

Neil looked up from his cards and nodded pleasantly. "Stoneridge, how d'ye do." A collective breath was released around the faro table, and now people were looking openly at the scene. Gerard held out his hand. Sylvester took it in a firm clasp. The hand of a man who was trying to kill him.

"Well, I thank you, Gerard." He laid the faintest emphasis on the word "well," and his eyes were hooded, hiding the raging speculation. For some reason Neil was not going to cut him again.

Gerard indicated his cards. "Care to take a hand?"

"Delighted, if there's no objection." Pointedly, the earl glanced around the table at Gerard's fellow players. The Duke of Carterton held the bank. It was almost amusing to see how faces were rearranged to adapt to the idea of Sylvester Gilbraith back in Society's fold.

"Take a chair, Stoneridge," the duke boomed, and a little rustle of relaxation ran around the table. Lord Belton moved his chair sideways, gesturing to the space beside him. "Porter, bring another chair for Lord Stoneridge."

A dainty gilt chair appeared instantly, and Sylvester sat down, nodding to his neighbor. "I trust all's well, Belton. It's been a while."

"Yes… yes, so it has," his lordship mumbled.

"Lady Belton quite well?"

"Oh, yes, in the pink… in the pink," his lordship declared, taking up his claret glass. "Try a glass of this, Stoneridge. An excellent wine." He gestured to the porter again, and a glass of claret appeared at the earl's elbow.

He smiled his thanks and picked up the cards the duke dealt him. So Neil was prepared to behave as if the court-martial had never happened. Such an attitude from the man who'd started the scandal in the first place would oblige others to follow suit and would put a stop to any further speculation. But why would he reverse himself in this way?

A man who could forget ties that went back more than twenty years was capable of anything, Stoneridge thought with a surge of bitterness. Ties and obligations. Neil Gerard owed him for countless acts of friendship during those years, and he chose to repay them by destroying his reputation and threatening his life.

They played for half an hour; then Gerard cast in his cards and rose from the table. "Care to join me in a glass, Sylvester?"

"By all means." Sylvester excused himself from his fellow players and followed Gerard to a secluded table in the window embrasure. His expression was bland, his eyes as cool as ever, but he was as much on his guard as he would be if he were manning a picket at the front line on the eve of battle.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Stoneridge." Neil filled two glasses from the decanter on the table. "Is Lady Stoneridge also in town?"

Whom did he think he'd seen in the Fisherman's Rest? Sylvester wondered as he said, "Yes, indeed, she is. Her mother and sisters are here, also."

"Not all under your roof, I trust," Neil said with a laugh. "A man can't call his soul his own with a monstrous regiment of women at his table."

Sylvester smiled faintly at this sally. "Lady Belmont has her own establishment on Brook Street."

"I shall do myself the honor of calling upon Lady Stoneridge,"

Neil said. "I assume she'll be attending the Subscription Ball at Almack's this evening."

"Yes, with her mother and sisters." Sylvester sipped claret, leaning back in his chair, legs crossed, his eyes resting placidly on his companion across the table.

"I thought I'd drop in myself," Neil said. "Show m' face, you know. I've only just come to town."

"I thought I hadn't seen you," Sylvester said deliberately. Did he imagine the twitch of Neil's eyelid? But his companion was continuing in the same hearty tone.

"You must dine with me, Sylvester. It's been a long time since we dined together."

"At least three years," Sylvester agreed without expression.

"Good… good. Shall we say Thursday?" Neil's flat brown eyes shifted, although his mouth smiled.

"I should be honored."

"Good. Half Moon Street at eight, shall we say? And a few hands of whist after. You were always a formidable opponent at the whist table."

"You exaggerate," Sylvester said, with the same placid smile.

"You're not thinking of dropping in at the Assembly Rooms yourself tonight?"

"I hadn't been," Sylvester responded.

"It's a trifle insipid, of course," Neil agreed. "But one must be seen, mustn't one?" He laughed, but his eyes shifted again. "I don't suppose you'd care to accompany me?"

If he entered Almack's at the height of a Subscription Ball in the company of Neil Gerard, his rehabilitation would be complete. Just what in the devil's name was the man up to? But if he didn't play along, he'd never discover.

"Why not?" he said casually. "I'll have to go home and change." He gestured to Neil's satin knee britches, striped stockings, and white waistcoat.

"Then I'll meet you here later and we can stroll across together."

Sylvester nodded his agreement and took his leave after another five minutes of desultory chat. As he left the salon, a few hands were raised in greeting. He responded with a bow, but his cool smile couldn't disguise the ironical glitter in his eye. Two old friends had publicly made up their quarrel; how very satisfying for the audience.

But the game was now in the open, and he had an enemy he could see. And an enemy he knew he could defeat His heart lifted on a surge of jubilation. He knew Neil Gerard's weaknesses as if they were his own. He'd known them from childhood. And within those weaknesses lay the answer to Vimiera.

The two of them arrived at Almack's Assembly Rooms just five minutes before the doors were closed at eleven o'clock.

They strolled up the stairs and entered the ballroom. Lady Sefton was the first of the patronesses to see them and came gliding over. "Lord Stoneridge, your wife has made quite an impression on us all," she declared, raising her lorgnette and subjected him to a piercing scrutiny. "Quite an unusual young woman, we find. Captain Gerard. You've just come to town."

Both men bowed since neither of her Ladyship's statements required a response.

Sylvester's eyes searched for his wife. She was waltzing with a gentleman of middle height, his appearance distinguished by his silver eyebrows and the matching silver flashes at his temples. There was an indefinable aura of authority about him, but he and Theo seemed to be engaged in a most earnest conversation, enlivened by glimpses of Theo's mischievous smile and the enthusiastic glow in her eyes.

She was wearing a simple gown of bronze silk over a half slip of cream lace, a costume that, despite her own lack of interest in her wardrobe, was in the first style of elegance. But they had Lady Belmont to thank for that, he thought with a half smile. The Stoneridge topaz necklace was clasped at her throat, delicate matching studs glimmered in her ears, and her hair was drawn into a heavy knot at her nape, with artful ringlets drifting over her ears.

It was an old-fashioned hairstyle, but it was the perfect foil for her gamine face and those great pansy-blue eyes. And when he took the pins out later, that raven's-wing cascade would serve as the most erotic nightgown.

"You must make me known to Lady Stoneridge," Neil said casually, putting an abrupt stop to Sylvester's unruly train of thought. "Oh, there's Garsington, signaling to us. I've been meaning to ask him what he fancies at Harringay next week. You know how reliable he is when it comes to form."

Sylvester allowed himself to be ushered across the room to where the viscount and his cronies stood gathered. Their reaction to the sight of him with Gerard was the same as the men's at White's. Surprise followed by confusion followed by hasty rearrangement of expression into one of casually friendly greeting.

Theo broke off in the middle of her conversation with Nathaniel, Lord Praed, and almost stopped in the middle of the dance floor.

"Is something the matter, Lady Stoneridge?" Lord Praed, never much of a dancer, nearly tripped over her suddenly slowed feet.

"Oh, no… no, I do beg your pardon. Did I trip you up? It's just that my husband's arrived."

"A matter for astonishment, clearly." He raised a silver eyebrow.

Theo looked self-conscious and said awkwardly, "Well, yes it is. He doesn't care for such occasions, you should understand."

"Oh, I do," Lord Praed said immediately. "Both understand and sympathize. I detest them myself."

Theo looked up at him. "How very ungallant of you, sir. And there was I thinking I was keeping you tolerably amused."

Lord Praed laughed. "Ma'am, I can safely say I have never had such an entertaining discussion on the subject of fertilizers with anyone."

Theo chuckled, but it was clear she was distracted, and after another turn his lordship suggested he escort her to her husband.

"Yes, if you don't mind," Theo said with betraying eagerness. What could have brought Sylvester here? And what had happened? He was perfectly at his ease in a group of men talking and laughing as if they'd known each other intimately for years. Had they never heard of the scandal of Vimiera? Was it possible?

Sylvester excused himself as he saw Theo and her partner leave the floor. He moved round the room to where Elinor sat talking with a tall titian-haired woman in a startling gown of black velvet.

"Lady Belmont, I give you good evening." He bowed and she smiled, but he could detect the curiosity behind the serene exterior. Elinor couldn't fail to notice how his reception differed this evening from that he'd received in her drawing room. However, she'd said nothing then, and he couldn't imagine she'd comment now.

"Stoneridge, what a pleasant surprise. Are you acquainted with Lady Praed?"

"Not as well as I would wish," he said, raising her hand to his lips. "I see my wife was dancing with your husband."

"Gabrielle," Lady Praed chuckled. "Nathaniel detests dancing, but he and Lady Stoneridge seem to share the same enthusiasm for marl. Your wife was describing a marl pit recently discovered on Stoneridge land, and he swept her onto the floor, where they could discuss its various merits as a fertilizer without interruption."

Sylvester laughed, but before he could respond, Theo and Lord Praed reached them.

"Allow me to return your wife, Stoneridge," Nathaniel said. "Your arrival for some reason eclipsed my own poor attempts to entertain her."

"Oh, for shame, sir," Theo said, flushing slightly. "You should know you're a farmer after my own heart. A man of great sense."

"You do me too much honor, Lady Stoneridge," Lord Praed said solemnly. He raised her hand to his lips. "I'll do myself the honor of calling upon you, if I may. I'd like to show you the pamphlet I was talking about."

He offered his arm to his wife. "Gabrielle, I believe you said you wished to visit the supper room." They made their farewells and strolled away arm in arm.

"I need some dry bread," Gabrielle said as they entered the supper room.

"What?" Nathaniel looked at her, startled. And then his expression changed. "Dry bread? Gabrielle, you're not…?"

"It's the only time I crave dry bread," she said with a tranquil smile.

"Oh, lord," he muttered.

"I wonder if it'll be twins again," Gabrielle mused, examining the offerings on the long table with a critical frown.

"Knowing you, there'll be three of them," Nathaniel said, offering her a basket of rolls. "You always improve on your performances, my love."

Gabrielle laughed, breaking off a piece of cast. "Six children in the house?"

"A daunting prospect for a man who didn't think he wanted one." Nathaniel shook his head, but his mouth curved in a smug little smile. "Come, I find I want you at home immediately." He put his arm around her shoulders, directing her toward the door.

Gabrielle made no demur. When her husband's eyes burned in that fashion, she wasn't about to argue.

Theo watched them leave, frowning slightly. "I don't think I offended Lord Praed. You're not vexed, are you, Mama?"

"It would be a lost cause, dear," Elinor said. "Have you seen Clarissa?"

"She was dancing with Lord Littleton, the last I saw. But she's not going to be happy coming to Almack's if we can't manage to acquire vouchers for Jonathan Lacey. Couldn't you ask Lady Jersey?"

"He seems a perfectly pleasant young man," Elinor said. "If somewhat vague on occasion. But I should wish to meet his mother. What's your opinion, Stoneridge?"

"Since I've been informed that Clarissa has found the love of her life, ma'am, I daren't offer one."

"That may be true," Elinor said matter-of-factly. "But I shan't give my blessing until I've met his mother."

Theo's frown deepened, and she turned to the puzzle uppermost in her mind. "We weren't expecting you, Sylvester."

"No, but I thought I'd drop in and see how you were doing," he said smoothly, reading the riot of questions in her eyes. "It's not so unusual for a husband to do such a thing."

"No," she said, her frustration clear in face and voice.

"Sylvester, may I beg the honor of an introduction to Lady Stoneridge?"

Neil Gerard glided up to them, his question breaking into the baffling whirligig of her thoughts.

Sylvester's eyes were hooded, although his mouth smiled as he made the introductions. "My dear, allow me to introduce you to a very old friend of mine. We've just met up again after some considerable separation."

Theo found herself looking into a thin-featured face, sharply aquiline nose, flat brown eyes, smooth brown hair; tall, athletic figure. There was something oddly familiar about him, and she took an instant dislike to Neil Gerard, although she tried to conceal it as she smiled and shook hands.

Neil bowed over her hand, amusement and surprise warring in his mind. So that vibrant creature who'd marched into the Fisherman's Rest hadn't been Sylvester's mistress? It had been the Belmont chit.

No, he amended. This was no chit. Young, certainly, but no flummery about her. No simpering miss, this. He remembered how he'd been struck by the brazen sensuality of the woman who'd smiled and touched the Earl of Stoneridge, and taken a disgusted sip from his drink, and had her hand slapped for her pains.

"I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Captain Gerard," Theo was saying. "Were you in the army with my husband?" She examined him covertly, looking for a reaction. Did this man know of Vimiera?

"We were also at school together, Lady Stoneridge," he said, answering the question by default, and giving Theo no clues in the process. "We've stood shoulder to shoulder in many a ticklish situation, isn't that so, Sylvester?" He turned with a hearty laugh toward the earl, who merely inclined his head, his eyes unreadable.

There was a moment's pause, but before Sylvester's silence could become noticeable, Neil continued with another hearty chuckle. "Ah, yes, Lady Stoneridge, your husband and I have known each other since we were grimy lads of ten."

"Grimy?" Theo raised her eyebrows, casting her husband an arch glance as she played along with the banter. "I find it hard to imagine Stoneridge as anything but immaculate."

"But, then, when I was ten, my dear, you were hardly in a position to know me," Sylvester said.

He could feel Gerard's interest in Theo like a pulsing heat.

He must have recognized her from the Fisherman's Rest, but there was a quality to his interest that went beyond the merely curious. There was a hunger to it; the man was aroused by Sylvester's wife.

On the thought Sylvester briskly tucked Theo's arm in his. "Forgive us, Gerard. But my wife expressed a wish to be escorted home without delay."

Neil Gerard took his leave, promising to call upon the countess at her earliest convenience.

"No, I didn't," said Theo.

"No, but I wish to take you home," her husband said. "Indulge me in this."

Theo glanced up at him. The strong mouth curved in a smile of pure masculine intent, his eyes glittered with sensual promise, and she knew that he was going to ensure she asked no questions of him tonight.