A Sisterly Regard Read online

  "But I just wanted to talk to her about Chloe. There is no harm in that. My mother would not mind." Everingham attempted once again to approach Phaedra.

  "We are not going to take the chance." Reggie tightened his hold and forced him into a nearby chair. "Sit down, my lord, and listen to me." He repeated some of the gossip he had heard just that evening.

  "I say! No one would believe--"

  "You think not? Perhaps you should listen more closely to what is being said here tonight, then. Even in the clubs this afternoon, I heard Miss Hazelbourne's name bandied about. I have no doubt that her behavior at the Duchess' ball was a delicious tit-bit in many a drawing room, and will continue to be the center of a storm of gossip until a new scandal replaces it."

  Everingham attempted to stand, but Reggie held him in the chair. "You young fool! It is to your thoughtlessness that is to blame, as much as Miss Hazelbourne's naïveté."

  "I have done nothing wrong!"

  "Perhaps not, but I have no doubt your mother was the source of most of those rumors. Although, to give the devil his due, there are many in the ton ready to embroider what they hear. They will continue to do so, until Miss Chloe Hazelbourne's reputation is in shreds." Seeing a stubborn denial on the younger man's face, he demanded," Who took her into the shrubbery, out of sight and unchaperoned?"

  "We only walked in the garden. All perfectly innocent."

  "I don't doubt it. But your mother saw more than innocence, and had no compunction about saying so publicly. You then compounded the problem by dancing with her three times at the Duchess' ball. Worse yet, you waltzed with her, a move of incredible stupidity. You knew she hadn't permission to do so."

  "But--"

  "You know the rules, Everingham. You have been on the Town these past three years, You must be aware of how the ton relishes even a hint of scandal. Miss Hazelbourne is in her first Season and has never been in Society. She is the veriest innocent. If you did not mean ill by her, you should have better protected her name. Now go away. I want to take a nap." He sat in the chair next to Lord Everingham and let his chin fall to his chest.

  From under lowered lids, he watched Everingham return to his mother's side, wearing a thoughtful expression. Whatever he said did not please her. The glare she cast in Phaedra's direction was hot enough to scorch.

  * * * *

  After her family abandoned her to disport themselves at Almack's, Chloe realized she was to be incarcerated forever, and would never be given another chance on the Marriage Mart. The next morning she took matters into her own hands.

  All was silent as she sat in her room, watching the clock. A note, delivered to her by a conspiratorial Betty, had informed her that rescue would be waiting in the mews at two o'clock in the morning. If she could not escape from the house without being detected, she was to set two candles in her window. On seeing the candles, her hero would depart, but would return each night until she was able to meet him.

  She was practically quaking with anticipation. Her own note, smuggled out by Betty the preceding evening, had described in great and inspired detail how her parents had imprisoned her, were feeding her on the poorest table scraps, and had signified their intention of setting her free only after the Season had ended. Would not dear, kind, Jeremy, please come to her rescue? She had even managed to squeeze a few tears out of her eyes, to leave their stains upon the note.

  Her parents and sister had returned from a soiree shortly after midnight, and now Chloe was waiting for the household to become quiet. She had the candles ready, but hoped she would not have to use them. A small portmanteau was packed with extra clothing, in case she would be able to put her plans into effect. For Chloe, believing that her mother was right insofar as she said that Lady Everingham's gossip had cast serious doubts on the girl's innocence, had resolved to elope with her son.

  Revenge, she was certain, would be sweet.

  The household had been silent for some time when the clock struck the quarter before two. She opened her door, glad that she had rubbed butter from the bread served her at supper upon its hinges. She had more butter, wrapped in a twist of paper, to apply to the kitchen door and to the gate that opened onto the mews.

  Chloe crept quietly down the servants' stairs and into the kitchen. The door opened quietly after she had liberally smeared its hinges, and she passed into the small moonlit garden She hesitated a moment before crossing the open space, then hurried to the back wall. Again she applied butter to hinges and, this time, to the lock as well. Her actions were rewarded, for the gate opened silently. She slid through, pushing the gate closed behind her, and hoped no one would notice it was unlocked until well into the morrow.

  The mews was dark. She started when a horse stamped and shivered at the rustling of mice in the straw. Her heart leapt in fear when a shadow detached itself from beside the stables. The next instant, she breathed a sigh of relief as Lord Everingham stepped into the moonlight. He held out his arms and she ran into them, dropping the portmanteau with a soft thud.

  "Let us go elsewhere so we can talk. Is your carriage nearby?" she whispered.

  "No, I took a hackney to the next street over. I did not wish to arouse anyone with the sound of my coach." He lowered his head and kissed her cheek, a gentle, undemanding touch of warm lips.

  Chloe relaxed against him, wondering if she should return his embrace. "Let us go to it at once. We must not risk anyone's finding us here."

  He hesitated.

  "Please, Jeremy," she said, in a low, tremulous voice. "I must speak with you and we dare not risk being heard."

  He led her along the shadowed street to the hackney. Handing her into its shabby interior, he commanded the driver to take them to Hyde Park.

  "In the middle o' the night?"

  "Do as I tell you, my man. There will be an extra something in it for you if you'll take us to the park and just drive around until I tell you otherwise," Everingham promised.

  "Oi'll wager that the watch'll not leave us be, in the park and all," the man protested.

  "Oh, very well, just drive around somewhere. Get to it, man;" Lord Everingham pulled the door closed as he entered, cutting off what little light had reached the interior. "Now, my dear Chloe, what is it you wished to tell me? Why were you incarcerated? Are you quite sure that you have recovered?"

  She hated the suspicion in his tone. "I was never ill! My wicked family locked me away because I was becoming more popular than my sister. She has always been my parents' favorite. They did not like it that all the gentlemen were paying more attention to me than to her. So they locked me in my room until she could attach a serious suitor," she concluded, with a heartrending sob.

  "How wicked. Your mother seems such a nice lady."

  "Oh, she is nice enough. It is my sister who is wicked. Mama and Papa will do anything she asks of them." She reached out and clasped his hands. "Jeremy, dear Jeremy, will you not save me from my evil sister?"

  "I would do anything to prevent your tears, my sweet Chloe," he vowed. "But I cannot take you away from your parents like this. They could have the law on me."

  "Jeremy, you could take me from them, and the law would have nothing to say about it."

  "How?"

  Although she could see his face only as a pale oval in the darkness, Chloe could imagine the bewildered expression on his sheeplike countenance. "Why, we could elope. If I were your wife, my parents would no longer have control over me. And I would be from under the terrible domination of my wicked sister."

  "But my mother!" His voice was irresolute, as if he was having difficulty breathing. "What would she say?"

  "You are of age, are you not? Does she hold the purse strings?"

  "Well, no...but...but I could never marry without her blessing."

  "Why not?" She withdrew her hands from his. "Are you afraid of your mother?"

  If he was, she knew he would never admit it. "It just seems such a shabby trick to play on her," he said, with some hesitation.

&n
bsp; Chloe was convinced that no trick was too shabby to play on the nasty Lady Everingham. She said nothing, only sniffed and let a small sob escape.

  "Oh, Chloe, do not cry. Please."

  "I will stop now," she replied, with a hiccup. "I will be strong. You had better return me to my house, because if you will not assist me, I must try to steal back inside before the servants are astir."

  "I want to help you. It's just that..."

  "I understand, Lord Everingham. You care more for your mother than you do for me. And you were so convincing when you swore eternal devotion." Again she reached tentatively to touch his hand. And sniffed.

  "Oh, please, Chloe. Do not cry again. Please." He captured her hands and put them to his lips.

  Chloe found the soft pressure of his mouth pleasant, but vaguely disappointing. Surely she should be thrilled.

  He tightened his clasp. "Confound it, I'll do it!"

  "You will? You really will?"

  "Yes. But I must fetch my coach and prepare for the trip." His voice strengthened.

  Now that her eyes were becoming accustomed to the near-darkness inside the hackney, she could see that his chin had gone up and his shoulders back. He was determined, at least. But would he be able to carry through with such a daring plan?

  "How will you obtain your coach without your mother knowing? How will you explain your absence?"

  She rather imagined that he would have strutted had be been elsewhere. "My mother knows that I plan an early start tomorrow--no, it is today, now. I will visit a friend of mine in Hertsfordshire, and attend a mill the day after tomorrow. She will not be surprised if I take the coach, rather than my curricle. And Smith, my groom, will drive us if I bribe him to do so."

  "Oh, marvelous. What shall I do while you are fetching your coach?"

  "You will remain in this hackney. I shall require him to take you toward the edge of town. You will be perfectly safe, since I intend to reward him amply for his cooperation." Now that he was in command of the situation, Lord Everingham showed surprising enterprise.

  When Chloe said, with a melting look, "Oh Jeremy, you are so clever," his chest expanded and his chin went up a notch. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, finding the action not at all unpleasant.

  Their hastily made plans were carried out forthwith. It was scarce four o'clock in the morning when the elegant coach belonging to the Earl of Everingham met an anonymous hackney on the north side of Regents Park.

  Chapter Ten

  Phaedra was busy all morning, having fallen behind in her correspondence with other amateur botanists. Her mama and Cousin Louisa had gone shopping. Papa was also away from the house, gone to Tattersall's with an old crony. So when Edgemont came to her with word that her sister's bed had not been slept in, it was well past noon. By the time Mama returned home, she and the staff had searched the entire house, with no success. Chloe was gone. There was no note or anything to indicate where she had gone, with whom, or when she had departed.

  Upon being questioned, Betty had stammered forth a disjointed explanation. All she knew, she insisted, was that she had yesterday delivered Chloe's note to the doorman at a club with a brass plate having letters that matched those on the note. "I don't read so good, mum," she wept, when pressed for the club's name. "No'm, I didn't wake her this morning. She told me not to."

  Lady Gifford scolded her roundly for carrying the note, but shook her head when Edgemont asked if he should let her go. "I suppose I cannot really blame her," she admitted to Cousin Louisa and Phaedra when the grateful but still weeping maid had returned belowstairs. "Chloe can be very convincing."

  "She probably bribed the girl" Phaedra said. "It would not be the first time, but always before what she asked was harmless--extra care with her garments, or a sweet before bedtime."

  "I wish you had told me," her mama said.

  "Mama!"

  "No, I can see that you would not. You've never borne tales against your sister."

  Feeling guilty as well as angry, Phaedra retired to a corner of the parlor and picked up her embroidery. She would rather have been out searching for her sister, but where would she go? After picking out the same flower three times, she gave up and paced the floor.

  After a while, Mama returned with the news that Chloe's hairbrush and toothbrush were missing, as well as her nightdress, a morning dress, and the white and pink ball gown. "All of her jewelry is gone, too."

  Edgemont came to the door. "Perhaps a portmanteau is also missing, my lady. However, the box room is so crowded that I could not be sure without taking everything out and counting."

  "She has indeed run away, then. Where can she be?" Mama's voice was almost firm, although her lip trembled.

  "With one of her suitors, I'll warrant," Phaedra said. "She would never be foolish enough to travel about London unattended or unescorted. She has made no female friends, so she must be in the company of a man."

  "But which one, and when did she leave?"

  Seeing her mama very near tears. Phaedra knelt before her and took her hands. "Mama, please attempt to calm yourself," she said quietly. "We will find my sister, you know. I am certain we will learn she has been safe ever since she left this house."

  Mama sipped tea, choked. When she had done with coughing, she said, "What if she has been in some gentleman's company overnight?"

  Cousin Louisa handed Mama a glass of brandy. "There is nothing else to do. She will be compromised and he must marry her."

  Phaedra had a terrible notion. "Perhaps that was all along her motive."

  At these words, Mama did burst into tears. Phaedra pulled her into a close embrace. "Mama, please do not cry. You know how she was determined to marry as quickly as possible. Perhaps she was able to convince one of her court to elope. She could have concocted some outrageous tale of persecution and the poor besotted fool would have been honor-bound to rescue her."

  "Have Betty back in here," suggested Cousin Louisa. "Perhaps she knows more than she is telling us."

  Betty was summoned and questioned again. While the inquisition was underway, Papa burst into the room.

  "What has happened? Isabella, love, are you all right? I came as soon as I had your note." He enfolded his wife in his arms.

  Lady Gifford wiped her eyes. "Oh, George, it's Chloe."

  "What's Chloe? Has she again done something to upset you?"

  "She is disappeared."

  "What?"

  Phaedra handed him a glass of brandy which he immediately drank down. "Please sit down and listen, Papa." She gave him a gentle push toward the sofa. "Mama, drink your brandy, too. You will feel more the thing." If only she dared take a glass of the potent spirits herself, but someone had to remain calm.

  "Will someone tell me what is going on?" Papa demanded when Mama's disjointed explanation faltered.

  "Chloe's disappeared, but no one knows how or when." Cousin Louisa related how they had discovered Chloe's absence and what they had done since then.

  "We fear she convinced one of her suitors to elope with her," Phaedra added, when Cousin Louisa faltered. "Chloe could well have convinced herself that she would not be permitted to marry this season."

  At first Papa refused to believe that his favorite's actions might have been less than above reproach. Only when Mama agreed that an elopement was the most likely scenario did he finally become convinced.

  "What time was she last seen? Did you say good night to her, Phaedra?"

  "Yes, shortly after we came in last night. I did not go into her bedchamber, but she replied to my knock. That was nearly midnight."

  Papa paced the length of the room and back. "I'll contact the Watch, ask if a respectable young woman was seen abroad during the night."

  "Perhaps we should send a note to your Aunt Margaret. She may be able to help us," Mama suggested.

  Papa dispatched his note and ordered Edgemont to confine all servants to the house so they could not gossip abroad. The butler returned a little later to inform them that
Jem Coachman, while searching the garden and mews for any clue to Chloe's disappearance, had discovered an unlocked gate.

  Papa paced. Mama sat on the sofa and wrung her hands. Phaedra was taken thoroughly aback at the change in her parents, who were usually the most calm and confident people she knew.

  At least cousin Louisa seemed calm. "Our first task is to find out who she is with, if for no other reason than to relieve your parents' minds."

  Nodding, Phaedra said, "It would help if we knew when she left the house."

  Papa stopped his pacing. " If it happened last night, then we might as well wait for them to return," he said, his voice breaking on the last few words, "for they'll have too great of a head start for us to catch 'em"

  "Many of her most faithful suitors may be away from Town," Phaedra contributed. "Lord Wilderlake told me he was to attend a mill somewhere to the north. Mr. Martin mentioned it as well, as did several others of her usual dancing partners."

  "None of those gentlemen were at last night's soiree," Cousin Louisa said. "She could be with any of them."

  The clock struck two. Mama made a small hopeless sound and Papa slammed his fist onto the desk. "They've been gone at least twelve hours. We'll never catch them."

  Just then the Duchess was announced. When she entered, Mama wailed, "Oh, Your Grace, I am so glad to see you. You must help us. Chloe has eloped!"

  Her Grace's mouth dropped open and she stared for a moment before recovering her usual sang froid. "Headed for Scotland, I'll not doubt. The silly chit! I was afraid she would do idiotish, when I saw how willful she was. Isabella, that one was too often unspanked as a child."

  "I know that, but it is now too late for spanking. What are we to do?"

  The Duchess settled herself in a comfortable chair. "First thing, stop that caterwauling. You might as well resign yourself that the chit's to be wed. 'Twould be nice to know the identity of your son-in-law-to-be, though."

  Mama's sobs increased in intensity and Papa pressed a comforting hand upon her shoulder.