The Rakehell Regency(326)

But with an even more fine set of gold and pearls around her neck, and matching diadem and veil, she looked every inch a queen. She would recover from her dashed hopes. She simply had to.



The Royal Family, assembled on a dais at the top of the palace audience room, looked her over most carefully, and pronounced her a decided beauty and an absolute treasure. T



he Prince of Wales himself invited her to take a turn about the room, and Thomas and Charlotte stayed close, keeping an eye on the old roué, often referred to as Prinny.



After that triumph, everyone in the room wanted to know her, or pretended they did. Pamela grew heartily sick of gossip in the ensuing days, which seemed to pair her with every man in London no matter if she had ever met him or not.



Pamela thought of Jonathan's lesson from The School for Scandal, and yearned for the days when her life had been uncomplicated, and when she and Jonathan had been friends.



After her presentation, the invitations came in thick and fast. Pamela attended breakfasts, balls, parties, soirees, the opera and ballet, with a variety of company. Captain Breedon was present for many of the more mundane events.



For the more prestigious ones, the Earl of Ferncliffe insisted upon escorting her. His clothing had not improved greatly, and his conversation was more racy than ever, but he was a fine escort to have, and her aunt encouraged him, even when Pamela would have held back.



He also seemed to pay particular attention to Marjorie Easton whenever they were together, which she ought to have felt jealous over, but merely worried about. The child was really too bold and forward for a girl of her age.



Even she herself had been worldly, but not quite that bad. Pamela admitted to herself that she could have ended up much worse had Jonathan not taken her in hand.



But the Earl ought to have known better than to encourage her in her scandalous behavior, Pamela decided, and determined she would try to nip in the bud the forced intimacy which had sprung up between them.



Even more troubling than the Earl's flirtations with the young girl were the assumptions people seemed to make about her own relationship with the tall, dark-eyed nobleman. Once it was known that she had helped him to redecorate his Castle, it was simply assumed that there was an understanding between them.



She tried to correct the assumption, but they would simply smile at her knowingly, and change the subject. He had never behaved in a lover-like manner towards her, and it was not until the third week they were in London, on a fine day in early April, that he came right out and declared his intentions, in the most unexpected manner Pamela could ever have imagined.



He called early in the morning, just as she and Abigail and Marjorie were about to go out riding.



It was unusual for anyone to call at the house at such an hour, especially when it was one of the days they were not at home. Even more peculiar was the fact that he was not dressed for riding.



"I came as soon as I heard," he said without preamble. He took her hand and kissed it heatedly. "I am surprised to find you in your habit. Is your aunt supervising the packing, then?"



"Packing? Whatever for?"



"Your air of calm does you credit. Quite right. Silence any remarks with a facade of nonchalance. I do see your point, and admire you for your pluck."



She shook her head, wondering if there was something wrong with her hearing. "Packing? Calm? Pray be seated and tell me what it is that you have heard which would make you think that we would be leaving Town?"



He smiled at her almost coyly. "Please, Miss Ashton, I believe I have been a very good friend to you. I hope to be something more than that ere long. You do not have to maintain your pretense with me. I would not think any the less of you if you gave vent to your feelings, though only when we are in private, of course."



She stared at him. "I don't understand. What are you saying?"



The Earl had the grace to look embarrassed. "You really don't know, then?"



"Know what?" she said, beginning to grow exasperated.



He took her hand possessively in both his own. She tried not to yank it away as he looked at her. At length he said, "My dear, I was so sorry to hear the awful news. I wanted to be the first to offer my help and protection. It would appear your former friend the vicar was a fortune hunter after all. I congratulate you on your lucky escape. You obviously became alert to his character flaws and deception just in time, before your name became linked irrevocably with his."



"Fortune-hunter? Are you speaking of Mr. Deveril?" she asked in astonishment.



"Of course, your family has lost mightily, but I'm sure you will take steps to recover your dire situation at once. Your own portion is untouched, of course, and he'll have a hard time running an estate without any ready cash."