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"I think," Lord Hartleigh remarked, "I'd rather see you covered with kisses." He pulled her towards him, causing her to topple onto the bed, and immediately set to making action suit word.
"After all" he murmured sometime later, "it's not our problem, is it?"
"No, dear," came the faintly amused reply. "Not this time, thank heavens."
Chapter Nine
Though he did not, precisely, sleep the sleep of the just, Basil must have achieved sufficient repose to improve his humour. Certainly, when the neighbourly Osbornes visited the following morning, he was most agreeable.
Not all the Osbornes graced Hartleigh Hall with their company. Jane was in bed with a cold, and James and his Papa were in London. But Hetty and the twins, Sarah and Susan, had come with their mother to improve their acquaintance with the single gentlemen currently residing at Hartleigh Hall.
Hetty had sulked the whole way over because, as she complained to her Mama, Lord Arden would look at no one but Miss Ashmore, and everyone knew Basil Trevelyan was the wickedest man alive. Within a very few minutes of her arrival, however, her spirits improved markedly. As he greeted her, Basil swept such an appraising glance over her as to make her cheeks turn bright red and then stared so besottedly into her brown eyes that she nearly reeled from the impact. Fortunately, being a steady sort of girl if not a particularly intelligent one, she recovered sufficiently to reward him with a coquettish smile.
"Never say that this Incomparable is little Hetty," Basil exclaimed to Mrs. Osborne, who'd watched these proceedings with mistrust. "You must have required an armed guard for her comeout to prevent her being killed in the crush of suitors." Mama's censorious frown wavered. "And you, ma'am, could not have escaped unscathed. For how on earth could the poor gentlemen know which was the daughter?"
Alexandra, who hadn't yet had the opportunity of observing Mr. Trevelyan try his skills upon anyone other than herself, was here provided an admirable opportunity to broaden her horizons. Oddly enough, she did not find the experience quite as pleasantly instructive as one would expect. She watched in grim fascination as, one by one, he reduced each of the three Osborne girls to giggling imbeciles, while simultaneously showering upon the Mama such sickeningly sweet droplets of flattery that even that stout, formidable matron became, in a matter of minutes, another trembling blossom athirst for the nourishing rain of his admiration.
The lesson was not at all improving to Miss Ashmore's temper, which had gotten a bad start at breakfast when she'd learned, along with everyone else that her Papa had finally decided to accept Lady Hartleigh's gracious invitation and was arriving tomorrow afternoon. He was, moreover, bringing Randolph with him. If Alexandra had thought to forestall her father with hints about the future Duke of Thome, it looked as though she'd better think again. Even as she watched, that undependable gentleman began competing with Basil for the twins' attention.
Lord Arden had not meant to do so. He had, in fact, been wracking his brains since yesterday, trying to contrive some means of getting Basil out of the way so that the courtship of Miss Ashmore might proceed apace. He'd been pleased to note that his Intended had scarcely said a word to Trev at breakfast. She'd apparently taken him in intense dislike, for she'd met the wretch's pleasantries with cool politeness and reserved her warm smiles for himself.
All the same, the marquess considered it neither natural nor agreeable to be completely ignored by a set of pretty young ladies under any circumstances, least of all in favour of Trevelyan. To correct this inequity, he insinuated himself into the conversation, and the twins soon rewarded him with blushes and giggles.
He did not, however, intend to take the duo driving in the afternoon. Unfortunately, Basil said something provoking—then the marquess retorted—then the twins looked so sweetly pleading...and, in the next minute the marquess found himself trapped in an engagement that would not win him any credit with his Beloved. He vowed inwardly to make speedy amends. But after admiring the dimple on Sarah's chin and noting its perfect mate upon Susan's, then bidding gallant goodbyes to them all, he turned around and found that Miss Ashmore had vanished.
When he asked his hostess where the young lady had gone, he learned that Miss Ashmore had promised Lucy an hour of her exclusive company.
"And you know, Will," Isabella reminded, "that Jess and Miss Ashmore must take her by turns, for she made them promise, and it's no good my telling them they spoil her dreadfully. Everyone spoils her, and poor Miss Ames is left with the thankless task of repairing the damage."
Lord Arden promptly took Lucy in violent dislike. Being a courteous gentleman, he did not share his feelings with his hostess or anyone else, though he did, shortly thereafter, find fault with his valet and berate that villain accordingly.
"You engineered that," said Lady Jessica accusingly, as she followed Basil out to the stables.
He replied very sweetly that he hadn't the faintest idea what she was talking about.
"Lud, will you listen to the man? He believes I'm a chaw-bacon, I think. You trapped him into driving those cabbage-heads," she went on reproachfully. "I know you like to have your fun and show how clever you are, but this is not the time for it. What is Miss Ashmore to think?"
"That your brother's taste is faulty, perhaps?"
She shot him a shrewd look. "I think you want her for yourself."
"Of course I do. I want every lady for myself."
"And so you must make trouble for Will? Really, it's most unfair of you. This is the first time in his life he's ever shown the least bit of common sense."
"And a precious little bit it is when the first distraction that comes along is enough to knock it out of him. I don't know why you scold so, Jess. Why, you're the first to make sport of your brother. And now Miss Ashmore's seen him in his true colours, you're all in a fidge about it. Really, I'm surprised at you."
Lady Jessica Farrington was nobody's fool, and most especially not Basil's. Knowing him as well as she did her own brother, she was not about to be shrugged off so easily. It was true she didn't want to mislead Miss Ashmore. On the other hand, she didn't want Miss Ashmore alienated.
Lady Jess lived in lively terror that her brother would one day marry some beautiful, shallow, self-centered aristocrat like her own mother, totally incapable of improving Will in any way. He needed a great deal of improvement—and soon, if his character was not to be irretrievably ruined.
She'd beli
eved that Miss Ashmore was capable of effecting the desired changes, if only Will didn't make her despise him. Which, of course, she was bound to do when she saw, not that he was a rake, for rakes were rather appealing, but that he was such a fickle creature that he couldn't even manage a pretence of keeping his mind on the woman he was courting.
In a few sentences she laid the matter out for Basil. "Don't you see?" she pleaded. "This may be his only chance to make something decent of himself."
"As he isn't my brother, I really don't care two licks about it," was the unsympathetic reply.
"I should think," said the lady, "you'd enjoy seeing him taught a lesson—regardless your interest in his future."
“You know as well as I there's no teaching him anything."
They had reached the stables, but she drew him away, out of the grooms' hearing. "He's never been so vulnerable before, Basil. He does want to marry her, you know. Unfortunately, he has no experience in the business and doesn't know how to go on. That is to say, he just goes on as he always does—or will, unless Miss Ashmore sets him straight."
"Then what are you telling me for?"
"Because you must help her."
"No!" he snapped, with so much force that she was momentarily taken aback. "That is to say," he corrected hastily, "she wouldn't accept any help from me on any account. Nor do I think she'll take kindly to any advice from you on how to go on with your brother."
"If she were agreeable, would you help?" Jessica coaxed.
Idly tapping his riding crop against his leg, he considered this for a moment or two. Finally he replied, "Well, it would be a bit of fun to see that self-satisfied smirk wiped off Will's face."
She'd won her point, and pressed the advantage without waiting to hear more. "Good. Now, you're not going riding yet."
He protested that he was.
