Page 39 of Rogue’s Holiday

With her mission to find Rose an acceptable suitor at least partially successful, Chastity squeezed her way through the throng in the parlor looking to see if she recognized anyone.

“Miss Reynolds,” said Sir Robert, suddenly appearing at her side. He and the vicomte each held a glass of brandy. “Might you have a moment?” His amused expression suggested he thought she might try to avoid him altogether which, truth be told, had been her intention at the outset of the evening.

“Of course,” she said, finishing off her champagne and handing her empty glass to a passing footman. “With so many things to entertain you in Brighton, it is kind of you to attend my great-aunt’s soirée.” What she didn’t say was that she was surprised her great-aunt had invited him. Well, perhaps it was due to his association with her countess friend. Then, too, the vicomte made for an unusual guest. “Have you met many of Aunt Agatha’s friends?”

The vicomte cast a look around the crowded parlor. “Not all. But, from those I have met, this appears to be a gathering of some of the most interesting members of Brighton’s society.”

“I expect it is,” said Chastity. “At least the ones who summer here. My great-aunt seems to know everyone.”

Sir Robert glanced toward Rose. “Who is the man conversing with your friend?”

“Oh, that’s Mr. Cairo, whom I only just met. A fascinating fellow. With them is my aunt’s good friend, Mrs. Fitzherbert. Have you perchance met her?”

“Is Mrs. Fitzherbert the one associated with the king?” asked the vicomte.

Chastity thought “associated” an interesting choice of words. “Yes, in his distant past. She is a wonderful woman.” Another controversial woman, thought Chastity, one she was proud to call friend.

“I shall look forward to meeting her,” said M’sieur Donet. His accent was a soothing balm to her senses disturbed by the presence of Sir Robert standing so close. She detected a subtle smile forming on The Rogue’s face as if he were aware of her discomfiture and found it amusing.

“I’m sure my great-aunt would be pleased to introduce you to the young women here. I scarce know any of them or I would do so myself.” In truth, she didn’t want to introduce the vicomte to any lady who might draw his interest from Rose. She would feel herself successful if, after tonight, Rose had many suitors in Brighton competing for her hand, one of whom was the vicomte.

“What of your cat, Miss Reynolds?” asked M’sieur Donet. “I have heard so much about him.”

She glanced at Sir Robert, a twinkle in his eye. “I daresay you have.”

“Is the feline about?” inquired M’sieur Donet.

“Crispin doesn’t favor crowds. I expect he is lounging on my bed at this very moment.”

“What an appealing thought,” said Sir Robert with a wry smile that made her suspect he was not speaking of the cat, but her bed.

Turning to M’sieur Donet, he said, “The cat and I are now friends, Jack. I shall introduce you myself should the feline condescend to make an appearance.”

The vicomte chuckled.

Chastity probably should have remarked on Sir Robert’s rescue of her cat but his smug look drove that thought from her mind. Fighting a huff, she wished them a good evening and went in search of another glass of champagne.

Sometime later, Lady Sanborn stopped to chat with Robbie, asking him if he and Jack were enjoying themselves. The grand feather adorning her many-colored turban wafted in the breeze coming through the door to the parlor.

“We are,” Robbie offered. Seeing Chastity Reynolds glide past them with her friend and Mr. Cairo, he added, “Your great-niece seems to be delighted with your many friends.”

Lady Sanborn watched her great-niece for a moment and then turned back to him. “Yes, and they appear to adore her. Why, Lord Alvanley has been seeking her attention all evening but she has yet to pause long enough for him to catch up with her.”

“The music is quite nice,” observed Jack, darting a glance at the small group of musicians.

The older lady sighed as she let her gaze drift around the room. “One cannot very well have a soirée without music, but the musical group does take up space. Alas, I could have wished for a larger parlor, but I do believe the press of all my guests has not diminished their pleasure.”

Having been curious about some of the men he’d observed, Robbie asked, “My lady, do you know all of those here tonight?”

“Goodness no, not all,” she said, shaking her head, causing the feather to flicker above her. “Some have come with those I invited. I never mind such additions. They are often the most interesting people.” She turned toward her guests. “Have you met Mr. Cairo?”

“I have not had the pleasure,” said Robbie.

“A splendid fellow. He came with Sir Bellingham.” Leaning in to be heard, she said in a lower voice, “I believe the young ladies find him very attractive, as they do the two of you.”

“You are most kind to say so. Where is Cairo from? With a name like that, one thinks of Egypt.”

“Oh no, not so far away. I believe his family originated from Italy, but he lives in Coventry, near where my great-niece and her friend reside in Northampton. How fortuitous is that?”

“Fortuitous, indeed,” said Robbie. He would have to be more attentive to Miss Reynolds, lest she become infatuated with some man of whom The Grand Countess would not approve.

Examining the other men in attendance, Robbie wondered if any of them could be among the ones who had been following him. Such a man could have slipped into the reception as supposed friends of the invited guests. After all, Arthur Thistlewood had been a gentleman and he led the conspirators.

Chastity was engaged in conversation with Sir John and his wife Letty as the guests began to depart and Sir Robert and his uncle took their leave. Surprised to feel a sense of loss at The Rogue’s departure, she turned back to her new friends, knowing she should have been relieved he was gone.

The man had gotten under her skin with his sparkling hazel eyes and handsome face. He had even charmed her cat! Still, his constant amusement at her expense was tiresome. Without speaking a word, he could tease her unmercifully, no doubt in an attempt to remind her of their first encounter. She was not immune.

Sir John and his wife had indulged in several glasses of champagne yet they were hardly affected by the wine. Letty towered over all of the women in the parlor and half the men. Even at her age, she stood erect with the same elegant air with which she sat a horse.

Chastity inquired if Letty might like to ride again with her.

“Hell, yes. Another race if you’re up for it. Damn good jaunt the last time.” At Chastity’s happy nod, Letty said, “I can’t ride tomorrow, but perhaps the day after?”

“Indeed, yes!” She would allow Letty and a high-spirited ride to divert her thoughts from Sir Robert.