“I can.” Clara tugged the bell-pull. A moment later, Barnes entered. “Please ask Lady Beresford’s maid to pack everything but what she’ll need to-morrow. Notify the coachman that I want them removed to Stanstead house this evening.” She shifted her gaze to Vivian and Rupert. “Your father may have a louder bark than he does a bite, but Tewkesbury is another matter. He can be a nasty customer.”
Vivian paled, but she straightened her shoulders. “I will not be afraid of him.”
Lady Telford’s lips formed a straight line. “Stanstead, I suggest you take yourself off to White’s after dinner this evening before you attend the ball. If Tewkesbury is in Town, he’ll be there. You’ll want to know what he is saying.”
Rupert would take his father and cousin as well. “Yes, ma’am.”
She shooed them out the door. “Have a good time and give your grandmother my regards.”
Once they were in the carriage, Rupert took Vivian’s hand in his. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Trust me to protect you.”
She tilted her head and kissed him. “I shall.”
Whatever happened to-night, by to-morrow at this time he’d be a married man, and no one would stop him.
After they arrived at his parents’ house, Rupert took his father and Robert aside, and explained what Lady Telford had advised him to do.
By the time he’d finished, Mama, Serena, and Silvia had joined them.
“I’ve sent a message to the kitchen that we’d like to dine as soon as possible.” His mother squeezed his father’s arm. “You will go with Rupert?”
“I, and Robert as well. We’ll return in plenty of time to escort you to Lady Jersey’s ball.”
“Do any of you actually know Lord Tewkesbury?” Despite what Clara had recommended, it seemed to be a great waste of time to be waiting for the man when none of them could recognize him.
“I do,” Edward Malfrey replied. “Enough to point him out.”
Rupert took Vivian aside. “We won’t be long. I simply wish to see if the man has mentioned the betrothal.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Rupert, his father, and Robert Beaumont sat in the main room at White’s, waiting for the large dining room to thin of company. Robert had gone to look at the wagering book when Nick and Hawksworth entered.
“We thought we’d join you.”
“Even if the man’s here, I don’t expect fisticuffs.” Rupert was beginning to think all this was for naught. “I’m surprised your bride let you out of the house.”
“She practically pushed me through the door. Lady Telford’s information about Tewkesbury may not have worried Vivian, but Silvia is determined to protect her.”
Robert reclaimed his seat. “Rupert, you’re in the book. The wager was running in your favor to marry Lady Beresford. This evening it changed to Tewkesbury.”
“Now we know he is making the match known.” Nick glanced around. “Is he here?”
“I’d say there is a good chance of it.” Papa stopped a waiter, and whispered something. “There are too many guests in the dining room to see if he’s present.”
Nick and Hawksworth pulled chairs up, and a few moments later, a bottle of claret was set in their midst.
Rupert checked his pocket watch. This was becoming ridiculous. “I am not going to hunt him down. I have nothing to say to the man. The only reason I came was to ascertain if there was any talk. Which there appears to be. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late escorting the ladies.”
Two gentlemen Rupert knew only by name sauntered, brandies in hand, to the book. “Too bad for Stanstead, looks like Tewkesbury is going to have the lady.”
Rupert’s hands clenched. He was not going to react. He reached for his glass.
“Stanstead, didn’t see you there.” The words were slurred, as if the man had already imbibed a great deal. “Sorry about your luck.”
