Mistletoe and Mischief

to anything? You must not have been listening to me if you think it has.'

“Why, dear boy, it has everything to say! If you need a place to stay, you must bring her here and at once!'

Charles frowned at him. “Not on your life, Ned. And I will thank you to keep away from her. That is not why I've come to you for assistance.'

Ned shrugged philosophically. “No harm in trying. Very well, why have you come?'

“I need a female, that's why.'

“Another one, Charlie? My, you have turned wild.'

Charles sighed with little control. “Someone to act as companion, Ned. Don't be so crass.'

Ned rose and came over to fill his glass again. “If it were me, I'd say you had all the company you need, dear boy. But if it's respectability you want, I can provide it for you.” He raised his own cup in a toast. “I'll give you Miss Wadsdale for a Christmas present-with a ribbon round her, if you wish.'

“Is she your mother's companion?'

Ned nodded, raising his eyes to the ceiling expressively, “She is,” he said. “And I'd be grateful to you if you'd take her off my hands for the holidays. It's boring enough around here with m’ mother and sister, without having to suffer from her gibble-gabble.” He lifted his glass again. “Argle-bargle, if you prefer.'

Charles ignored his impudence and began to relax with relief. “Thank goodness,” he said, and allowed himself for once to enjoy his cognac. The golden liquid burned his throat and soothed him simultaneously. “I'll take her gladly. Can I have her tonight?'

Ned smiled again, but kept the joke to himself. “You could if it were up to me,” he said. “But I'll have to do some talking to wean her away from m’ mother. You're a marquess-she'll like that. But she's not very amenable to change, so I won't be able to bring her to the mark that fast.'

“Tomorrow, then. At dawn.'

“Hold on there, boy! You could probably have her tomorrow, but what will you do with her if she comes?'

Charles drew his brows together. “As soon as she's comfortable, we'll set out immediately for London, of course.'

Ned shook his head. “Tomorrow's Sunday have you forgotten? And you in the government.'

Charles closed his eyes. He had forgotten the day. Of course they could not travel on Sunday. Not unless they could do so without being caught.

He looked questioningly at his host. Ned shook his head again. “Not on your life, Charles boy. Miss Wadsdale's pious. And if the Spadgers didn't inform on you, she would do so herself. Turn herself in to the magistrate, she would, rather than break the Sabbath.'

“Oh, damn,” Charles said. He leaned his elbows on his knees and sighed. “Well, it can't be helped, I suppose. I'll have to come for her on Monday.'

“Right,” Ned said, downing the contents of his glass in celebration.

Charles said anxiously, “You won't forget, will you? I need you to come through for me on this.'

Ned eyed him mockingly. “Don't worry, Charlie boy. I'm just drunk, not weak in the head. My memory serves me well enough.” His grin turned mischievous. “For instance, I haven't forgotten the time you had the nude portrait delivered to the English master during class. I'll never forget his face.'

Taken aback for a moment, Charles realized he had almost forgotten those days. He grinned, too, and then grimaced ruefully. “That wasn't me. That was just me under your influence.'

“At least you had some friends then.'

Charles pursed his lips. “I have friends now, thank you. Just not much time to see them in, that's all. I'd best be going.'

He put down his glass and stood. Then he remembered something. “Lou-the young lady left her baggage in Gretna Green. How should I go about finding her some clothes?'

Ned cocked an eye. “If it were me, Charlie boy, I-''

Charles nodded and sighed. “You should do better without the clothes, I know. But listen, Ned, will you stop playing these stupid games! And will you leave off with that abominable nickname!'

“Sorry, Wroxton. Old habit.” His smile was unrepentant.

Charles's lips curved. “0h-go drown yourself! What about the clothes?'

Ned put down his glass. “As it happens, you've come to the right place. Has she a good figure, this Miss Lou-?” He waited unsuccessfully for more.

Charles's cheeks grew warm. “I suppose this question is pertinent?'

“But of course it is, Charles!” Ned widened his eyes in innocence. “Can you doubt me? I need to know if my sister's clothes will fit her.'

“Your sister's? But won't Miss Conisbrough mind?'

“She's not here,” Ned said. “And not due back for three days, at least.'

Charles still looked doubtful, so Ned added, “I'll explain it to her myself when she gets here.'

“Without embellishment, I hope. And you might leave my name out of it.'

“Of course, dear boy. Soul of discretion. You can count on me. Meanwhile, I need a description of the young lady, please. From what you said about her hair, I deduce it is red.'

“Quite. But what has that got to do with her size?'

“We're getting there. Be patient. But you wouldn't want the colour of her gowns to clash, would you? What about eye colour?'

“Blue.” Charles could not believe that Louisa would be too particular about the colour of her clothes under these circumstances. But Ned knew women better than he did.

Ned smiled appreciatively. “I'm getting a picture. Now about the figure. Slender or plump?'

Charles began to squirm. “Slender, I should say. Medium stature.'

“Good. That sounds a bit like my sister. Unless the bosom-what would you say about her dairy?'

Charles exploded. “Really, Ned! This is a lady we're discussing!'

Ned raised both hands in defense. “Remember the clothes, dear boy. You want them to fit.” He lowered them then and said in a reasonable tone, “But I can understand your reluctance to be specific… especially if the young lady's form is better left undescribed. You always were the gentleman. I'll simply take it, then, that she's rather unwieldy, shall we say-'

“Damn it, Ned! There is nothing about Miss Davenport's figure that is in the least unwieldy! In fact, I would put her up against any of those ladybirds you're so fond of talking about!'

A satisfied smile broke over Ned's countenance. When he saw it, Charles gave a groan.

“Miss Davenport,” said Ned, rolling the name on his tongue. “Miss Louisa Davenport, I believe you said.'

Charles buried his face in his hands. “So help me, Ned -''

“Can't say that I know her. But that's neither here nor there, I suppose.'

Charles took a deep breath. Then he managed to continue, “So help me, Ned, if I hear one word of rumour in connection with her name, I shall come after you. Career or not, I'll run you through before I'll let you start the slightest scandal about her.'

“Very proper, Charles. I should feel the same way in your shoes.” Ned's tone sobered slightly. “But I'm only a bit of a rake, you know. Not a blackguard. The lady's name is safe with me.

“But-” the teasing note was back “-I'm glad you've noticed all you have noticed, though. It tells me you're not quite the dry stick I thought you'd become. My advice is, take advantage of the situation. Nothing illegal, mind, but do enjoy yourself. “Now-” Ned sprang to his feet before Charles could lodge another protest. “I'll go tell my sister's maid to pack those clothes.'

He left Charles alone in the library feeling wrung out by the shifts his emotions had undergone during the past half hour. More than a moment passed before Charles could decide whether he had been wise to come. But after he reflected, he determined that Ned's intentions were basically good. It would have been remarkable indeed if he had not taken the chance to avenge himself for Charles's past snubs, and the small bit of teasing to which Charles had been subjected was as nothing compared to the assistance Ned was giving him.

He would have to remember Ned, Charles decided. Rake or not, Ned had proved to be a true friend when he needed one.