assistance, Nikki studied the pristine pleats of his cravat. Lest he accuse her once more of missishness, she refrained from pointing out that he still gripped her arms. She would be modest and maidenly and troubled, Nikki decided. Marmaduke would respond quickly to a lady in distress. Plaintively she raised her eyes—and surprised on his bronzed features an extremely speculative expression. It was gone in an instant, but Lady Sweetbriar knew her Duke, and she would hand over all the Sweetbriar jewels without a single demur if he wasn’t contemplating some sort of thimble-rig.
Chapter 6
Lady Sweetbriar was not alone in thinking Marmaduke Thorne would serve as an excellent ally; Lady Regina Foliot came to a similar conclusion within moments of making the gentleman’s acquaintance, an event which took place at the King’s Theatre in the Haymarket. After considerable wracking of his brain in an effort to determine how best to persuade Lady Regina of his devotion, Lord Sweetbriar had hit upon the happy scheme of presenting his uncle. That Mr. Thorne had quite a way with the ladies, his nephew had already observed. He trusted that Marmaduke could wheedle Lady Regina into an acquiescent mood.
Nor had Lord Sweetbriar’s trust in his uncle been misplaced. Mr. Thorne was beguiling Lady Regina, her mother, and her sisters, with accounts of the opera as performed in St. Petersburg, with special emphasis upon the jealous stratagems of the Nymph of Dnieper, entertainment in which the ancient costumes and music of Russia were admirably displayed. Lord Sweetbriar, who had no interest even in the Mozart opera in which Mme. Catalini was currently between intervals exercising her fine voice, occupied himself with gazing upon his beloved, who was clad for the occasion in a gown of white muslin trimmed with varicolored beadwork. On her yellow curls she wore a coronet made of fine lace decorated with ribbons and flowers, on her arms long white gloves, and white satin slippers on her feet. The overall effect was angelic.
Lady Regina’s appearance in that moment was most deceptive. The source of her un-Christian sentiments—who was behaving in a very gay and animated manner that caused heads to turn toward her, and exhibiting not the least concern for the attention that she drew—was seated in an opposite box. “Your stepmama seems to be in excellent spirits,” Lady Regina murmured, with a reproachful glance at Rolf. “I must conclude that you haven’t attempted to make her understand that she must try much harder to observe the proprieties. Indeed, I know you have not, because the on-dit is that Lady Sweetbriar has been publicly embracing Sir Avery Clough. Even you must admit that such behavior can hardly add to her consequence. Or yours. Much as you may like your stepmama, Sweetbriar, you surely cannot sanction such indelicate behavior on the grand staircase of the British Museum!”
Had not Lord Sweetbriar been so besotted, he might have received considerable edification from Lady Regina’s opinions on romance. “Blast!” he muttered, as he transferred his gaze from the angelic Lady Regina to the opposite box, where his stepmama was one of a very convivial group. “If she’s engaging in that sort of thing, maybe she ain’t on the dangle for the fellow’s fortune,” he offered hopefully.
Lady Regina did not care for Lord Sweetbriar’s apparent determination to think the best of his stepmama. Lest she appear small and petty-minded, however, Regina could not voice that thought. Instead she allowed a cool expression to settle upon her features, and refrained altogether from comment. It was a very effective maneuver, one which left its victim feeling as if he’d encountered an Arctic blast.
“Talking to Nikki ain’t that easy.” Lord Sweetbriar sought to defend himself. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about her, anyway. Nikki ain’t my dependent, so I can hardly pension her off—no, and wouldn’t if I
Chapter 6
Lady Sweetbriar was not alone in thinking Marmaduke Thorne would serve as an excellent ally; Lady Regina Foliot came to a similar conclusion within moments of making the gentleman’s acquaintance, an event which took place at the King’s Theatre in the Haymarket. After considerable wracking of his brain in an effort to determine how best to persuade Lady Regina of his devotion, Lord Sweetbriar had hit upon the happy scheme of presenting his uncle. That Mr. Thorne had quite a way with the ladies, his nephew had already observed. He trusted that Marmaduke could wheedle Lady Regina into an acquiescent mood.
Nor had Lord Sweetbriar’s trust in his uncle been misplaced. Mr. Thorne was beguiling Lady Regina, her mother, and her sisters, with accounts of the opera as performed in St. Petersburg, with special emphasis upon the jealous stratagems of the Nymph of Dnieper, entertainment in which the ancient costumes and music of Russia were admirably displayed. Lord Sweetbriar, who had no interest even in the Mozart opera in which Mme. Catalini was currently between intervals exercising her fine voice, occupied himself with gazing upon his beloved, who was clad for the occasion in a gown of white muslin trimmed with varicolored beadwork. On her yellow curls she wore a coronet made of fine lace decorated with ribbons and flowers, on her arms long white gloves, and white satin slippers on her feet. The overall effect was angelic.
Lady Regina’s appearance in that moment was most deceptive. The source of her un-Christian sentiments—who was behaving in a very gay and animated manner that caused heads to turn toward her, and exhibiting not the least concern for the attention that she drew—was seated in an opposite box. “Your stepmama seems to be in excellent spirits,” Lady Regina murmured, with a reproachful glance at Rolf. “I must conclude that you haven’t attempted to make her understand that she must try much harder to observe the proprieties. Indeed, I know you have not, because the on-dit is that Lady Sweetbriar has been publicly embracing Sir Avery Clough. Even you must admit that such behavior can hardly add to her consequence. Or yours. Much as you may like your stepmama, Sweetbriar, you surely cannot sanction such indelicate behavior on the grand staircase of the British Museum!”
Had not Lord Sweetbriar been so besotted, he might have received considerable edification from Lady Regina’s opinions on romance. “Blast!” he muttered, as he transferred his gaze from the angelic Lady Regina to the opposite box, where his stepmama was one of a very convivial group. “If she’s engaging in that sort of thing, maybe she ain’t on the dangle for the fellow’s fortune,” he offered hopefully.
Lady Regina did not care for Lord Sweetbriar’s apparent determination to think the best of his stepmama. Lest she appear small and petty-minded, however, Regina could not voice that thought. Instead she allowed a cool expression to settle upon her features, and refrained altogether from comment. It was a very effective maneuver, one which left its victim feeling as if he’d encountered an Arctic blast.
“Talking to Nikki ain’t that easy.” Lord Sweetbriar sought to defend himself. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about her, anyway. Nikki ain’t my dependent, so I can hardly pension her off—no, and wouldn’t if I
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