Mary Balogh - Slightly Wicked

It was time to begin the counter plan.

“Ah, here it is,” Judith said, stepping forward with a large book spread open across both hands. “And here are Uncle George and Horace to help me adjudicate the winner. And that is Julianne, I am afraid, Lord Rannulf. It was a raven that Noah sent out first from the ark to see if the floodwaters had receded.

Then he sent a dove. The dove was sent out three times, in fact, until it did not return and Noah knew that there must be dry land again. But still, it was the raven first.”

The way all four of them turned and gaped at her would have done justice to any farce. She shut the book with a flourish.

“It was a foolish thing to argue about,” she said, “and to bring the three of us downstairs in the middle of a ball to hunt for the answer. But Julianne was right, you see, Lord Rannulf.”

“Well,” he said with an audible sigh, “I suppose I must concede defeat, then. It is as well, though. It would have been ungentlemanly to crow over a lady if I had been right. Though I am still of the opinion that in my Bible it is a dove.”

“What the devil—” Horace began.

“Julianne,” Judith said, cutting him off as she put down the book, “are you still struggling with the catch of that bracelet? Can you not do it, Lord Rannulf? Let me try.”

“Hmph,” Uncle George said. “I came down for a moment’s peace and find that my library has been invaded. Does your mother know you are wearing her bracelet, Julianne? I daresay she does, though. A word of advice, Bedwyn. Never argue with a lady. She is always right.”

If she could have painted thunder in visible form, Judith thought, it would surely bear a remarkable resemblance to Horace’s face. She locked glances with him for a moment and saw murder in his eyes.

“I’ll bear it in mind, sir,” Lord Rannulf said. “That is definitely the last time I argue about ravens and doves.”

Julianne, tight-lipped and white-faced, pulled her arm away from Judith, fumbled with the catch of the bracelet, failed to do it up, snatched it off, and slammed it back onto the table where she had found it.

“Horace,” she said, “take me to Mama. I am feeling faint.”

“I suppose I had better return to my duty,” Uncle George said with a sigh.

A moment later all three of them had left, taking the candle with them and leaving the door ajar.

“What book was that?” Lord Rannulf asked after a few moments of silence.

“I have no idea,” Judith said. “It was too dark in the room for me to distinguish one title from another.”

“Are you quite sure,” he asked, “that the first bird out of the ark was a raven? I’ll wager it was a dove.”

“You will lose,” she said. “I am a clergyman’s daughter.”

“I suppose,” he said, “it was a plot to have Sir George Effingham believe I had seriously compromised his daughter.”

“Yes.”

“Careless of me,” he said. “It almost worked. I thought the chit silly and tedious but essentially harmless.”

“But Horace is not,” she said. “Neither is Aunt Louisa.”

“Judith.” He was coming toward her. “You have saved me from a miserable life sentence. How am I ever to thank you?”

“We are even,” she said. “You saved me last week in the summerhouse. I saved you this week.”

“Yes.” His hands were on her shoulders, warm, solid, familiar. “Judith.”

When had he started calling her by her given name? Had he done it before tonight? She fixed her gaze on his elaborately tied neckcloth, but only for a moment. His face got in the way, and then his mouth was on hers.

It was a deep kiss even though his hands did not move from her shoulders and hers did no more than grip the lapels of his evening coat. He teased her lips apart with his own and she opened her mouth to his.

His tongue came into her mouth, filling her, possessing her, and she sucked on it, drawing it deeper.

She felt like someone who had been starved and then presented with a feast. She could not get enough of him. She would never be able to have enough of him. She could smell the familiar scent of his cologne.

And then his mouth was gone from hers and he was gazing at her in the moonlit room.

“We are going back upstairs,” he said, “before someone can make an issue of your absence. Thank you, Judith. The time between now and the last dance is going to seem tedious indeed.”

She tried not to refine too much on his words. He was relieved at his near escape. He was grateful to her. He remembered their time together when he had thought she was Claire Campbell, actress and experienced courtesan. That was all.

Judith had very little time in which to gather her scattered thoughts and emotions. Perhaps very few people noticed her return to the ballroom on Lord Rannulf’s arm, but Aunt Effingham certainly did, and the look on her face did not bode well for her niece later. Julianne had somehow surrounded herself with gentlemen, the waltz having just finished, and was laughing and fluttering in their midst. Uncle George was back with his group of older gentlemen, engrossed in conversation with them. Of Horace there was no sign.

“But where did you go, Rannulf?” Lady Beamish asked when he escorted Judith to her grandmother’s side. “One moment you were waltzing and the next moment you were gone.”

“Miss Effingham suddenly missed her bracelet,” he explained, “and Miss Law was kind enough to help us search for it. Fortunately it was discovered in just the place Miss Effingham thought she might have left it.”

Judith’s grandmother smiled placidly, but Lady Beamish looked from one to the other of them with sharp eyes. Of course, Judith thought, she had been the one eager to promote the match between her grandson and Julianne. She must be disappointed that the courtship was not proceeding faster.

And then Lord Rannulf strolled away to ask a young lady to dance who to Judith’s knowledge had danced only once before during the evening, and Mr. Tanguay arrived to claim his set.

Judith smiled and gave him her attention, but it was very difficult to do when her heart was still pounding from the tensions of the past fifteen minutes.

She was laughing by the time the set ended. It had been a vigorous dance with intricate steps and patterns. But Mr. Tanguay did not have the opportunity to escort her back to her grandmother. Branwell appeared in front of them instead and took her arm.

“Excuse us if you will, Tanguay,” he said. “I need to talk to my sister for a minute.”

She looked at him in surprise. Though he had exchanged glances and smiles with her and even one wink in the course of the evening, he had been too busy enjoying himself with other young ladies to hunt out a mere sister for conversation. He was still smiling, though there was something stiff about the set of his lips.

He was unusually pale. His fingers were digging rather painfully into her arm.

“Jude,” he said when they were on the landing outside the ballroom and he had looked about to ascertain that they could not be overheard, “I just wanted to let you know that I am leaving. Now.

Tonight.”

“The ball?”She looked at him with incomprehension.

“Harewood.” He smiled and nodded at Beatrice Hardinge, who was passing on the arm of an unknown young man.

“Harewood?” She was further mystified. “Tonight?”

“Effingham just had a word with me,” he said. “It seems someone else came here a couple of days ago demanding payment of me for some trifling bill. Effingham paid him without even informing me. Now he wants the money back as well as the thirty pounds I owe him for the journey here.” He raked the fingers of one hand through his hair. “Of course I mean to pay him back, but I cannot do it just now. He cut up rather nasty about the whole thing and said some pretty offensive things, not just about me but about you too. I would have popped him a good one to the nose or even challenged him, but how could I, Jude? I am at Uncle George’s as a guest, and we are surrounded by other guests. It would be in the depths of bad taste. I am going to have to go, that is all.”

“But tonight, Bran?” She grasped his hand in both her own. Oh, she knew very well what this was all about. How dare Horace take out his anger and frustration on her brother in this way? “Why not wait at least until the morning?”

“I cannot,” he said. “I have to go now. As soon as I have changed my clothes. There is a reason.”

“But in the middle of the night? Oh, Bran,” she said, “whatever are you going to do?”

“You must not worry about me,” he said, reclaiming his hand and looking considerably agitated. “I have a—a lead on something. I’ll have my fortune made in no time at all, I promise you.” He flashed her a ghost of his old grin. “And then I’ll pay Papa back everything extra he has spent on me lately and you girls will be secure again. I have to go, Jude. I must not delay any longer.”

“Let me at least come upstairs with you,” she said, “and then see you on your way after you have changed.”

“No, no.” He looked around him again, obviously anxious to be gone. “You stay here, Jude. I want to slip away unnoticed. I’ll pay Effingham first as soon as I can, and then I’ll pay him back in a different way for what he said about my sister.” He bent his head and pecked her on the cheek.

She watched him go in some dismay and with a strong sense of foreboding. He obviously owed a great deal of money to a great many people, and now their number included Horace—obviously for a far larger sum than thirty pounds. Yet he was dashing off furtively in the middle of the night, convinced that at last he had found a way to make his fortune quickly and rid himself of debt. He was surely only going to dig himself a deeper grave.

And in the process completely ruin his family.

It was with a heavy heart that she returned to the ballroom. Even the prospect of dancing the last set with Lord Rannulf Bedwyn failed to cheer her.

She was to be further disappointed within a few minutes.

“Judith,” her grandmother said, taking her hand and squeezing it, “my dear Sarah is not feeling at all the thing. It is too drafty in here with the doors and windows open, I daresay, and too noisy. Perhaps you would fetch Lord Rannulf.”

“There really is no need to fuss, Gertrude,” Lady Beamish said. “I feel better already since you fanned my face.”

But looking at her, Judith could see that the old lady’s always-pale complexion had a gray tinge and her always-correct posture was drooping somewhat.

“You are weary, ma’am,” she said, “and it is no wonder. It is after midnight already. I shall certainly fetch Lord Rannulf.”

It proved unnecessary. He came even as Judith started to look around for him in the milling crowd between sets. He bent over his grandmother’s chair and took one of her hands in his.

“You are tired, Grandmama?” he asked, such gentleness in his face and voice that it felt to Judith that her heart turned over. “So am I, I must confess. I shall have the carriage brought around immediately.”

“Nonsense!” she said. “I have never left a ball early in my life. Besides, there are two sets left and two young ladies to whom you have committed your time.”

“I have not engaged anyone for the next set,” he said, “and Miss Law was to be my partner for the last one. I am sure she will excuse me.”

“Indeed I will,” Judith assured them both.

Lady Beamish looked at her, her eyes still sharp despite her obvious weariness.

“Thank you, Miss Law,” she said. “You are both gracious and kind. Very well, then, Rannulf, you may call the carriage. Gertrude, my dear, I am going to have to abandon you.”

Judith’s grandmother chuckled. “I have scarcely known how to keep my own eyes open for the last half hour,” she said. “After the next set is over, I will have Judith help me to my room, if she will be so good.

Then she can return for the last set if she wishes. It has been a thoroughly pleasant evening, has it not?”

“Miss Law,” Lord Rannulf said, “would you care to help me find a servant to take a message to the stables?”

Someone of his rank and demeanor had no difficulty in finding and attracting the attention of a servant, of course. The message was sent in no time at all. Judith used the opportunity to ask the same servant to send Tillie up to her grandmother’s room. But Lord Rannulf had wished to speak with her privately. They stood outside the ballroom, on almost the exact spot where she had stood with Branwell just a short while earlier. He clasped his hands at his back and leaned a little toward her.