She made no reply. Charles found himself tongue-tied for the first time in his life. In silence, they rode the last few blocks to her uncle's house in Half-Moon Street.
A grizzled servant with a military bearing opened the door to them and said, “The gen'ral's waitin’ up for you, miss, just like he's done ev'ry night this week.'
There was no warmth in his greeting, and Charles couldn't fail to hear the censure in his tone. He put on his most aristocratic air.
“You may tell General Davenport that the Marquess of Wroxton is here to wait upon him.'
The man would have shown him into a small library to wait, but Charles announced that he preferred to stand in the entryway. The servant left him to do his duty. Louisa stayed back with Charles and gave him her hand.
“I must thank you, Lord Wroxton,” she said, pale but composed. “But I cannot adequately express all the gratitude I feel.'
“The pleasure was all mine,” he said earnestly, holding on to her hand longer than was necessary.
This drew a teasing smile from her. “Pleasure, Charles? When I was such a shocking charge? Do not tell me you have learned to tell faradiddles from me?'
He started to protest, to tell her how much he had enjoyed his Christmas with her, undoubtedly the happiest of his life. But her uncle's butler interrupted him.
“The gen'ral will see you both now, sir.'
Reluctantly, Charles released her and followed her into the drawing-room. General Davenport was seated in an armchair by the fire, both feet swathed in bandages and propped up on an ottoman.
“So there you are, minx!'
“Do not get up, sir,” Charles said, when the general started to struggle. “I shall not be staying long.'
“You shall stay, sir, until I understand the nature of this escapade!'
Charles stiffened, but Louisa quickly interceded. She moved forward with a brisk step and dropped a kiss on her uncle's forehead.
“You will leave that kind of talk for later,” she said firmly, “when you and I are alone. We shall have none of it in his lordship's presence.'
The general subsided into his chair, but his temper was still roused.
Charles said, “You had my letter, certainly, sir.'
“I did. But that was days ago! What has taken so long, sir, I ask you? And where is this chaperone you wrote of?'
Charles hesitated just long enough to catch his breath. He bowed most urbanely, and spoke in the reasoning voice he used with the Prince Regent when the Prince was at his most tiresome. “Miss Plunkett, sir. She asked to be let down first, due to her age and the lateness of the hour. I am afraid the journey tired her excessively, since she is given to dropsy and assorted other ailments. But I shall get her to call on you within the next day or two if you like.'
He left the offer hanging. But, as he had gambled, the general appeared alarmed at the prospect and muttered a hasty “No need, no need, sir. I shall take your word for it. Gentleman, and all that.'
Charles gave a cool bow to signify his acknowledgement. The general turned his frown on Louisa and said, “So, minx, you imposed on his lordship here! Got anything to say for yourself?'
“Nothing at the moment, Uncle, although I am sure you will have more to say yourself. I shall retire now, if you have no objection, to spare my blushes.'
Louisa's hair was flaming in the firelight. She looked anything but abashed or contrite and even winked at Charles as she spoke.
The wink provoked a smile from him. A mistake, as the general's next comment proved.
“You'd best get along! Time for his lordship and me to have a chat.'
Louisa had started for the door, but at that, she whirled round and said forcefully, “You will say nothing to shame his lordship into offering for me, please! There is no need!
“And besides-” she turned and curtsied to Charles with impeccable dignity, as if she had said nothing to startle him “-I have discovered that I have no wish to marry. Good night, and thank you again, Lord Wroxton. We shall disturb you no further.'
Her exit, which sounded like a dismissal, left Charles standing speechless. The general, however, was not so struck.
“Hoyden!” he called after her. Charles was convinced the man would have launched his cane after her in a fit of temper if he had not been present.
He could see by the general's heightened colour that Louisa had stolen a march on him. She had wrecked her uncle's battle plan and exploded his charges. He could do nothing now but sit and stare uneasily at his guest.
If Louisa's last words had not so unsettled Charles, he might have found it hard to keep from smiling at the way she had pulled the rug out from under her uncle. But her tone had sounded so final-as if she never wanted to see him again.
The general's eyes were upon him. Charles felt an urgent need to get away, but he rallied enough to say, “I agree with Miss Davenport, sir. I see nothing to discuss. The weather prevented us from making as good time as I had originally hoped. That… and the holidays.'
The memory of those days filled him with longing as he continued, “As to Miss Davenport's elopement, she has explained to me some of her circumstances. I think if you will listen to her reasons for it, you will find they were not of the usual variety. In spite of her present manner, I assure you that she heartily regrets her hasty action. And you can rest assured that nothing of the kind will ever happen again.'
The general thumped his cane upon the floor. “Humph! Are you suggesting I do not know how to govern my niece? She shall live on bread and water, sir! Bread and water!'
Charles could recognize the impotent fury of an old man. Still, he felt his anger mounting.
“If I hear,” he said with terrible emphasis, “that Miss Davenport has been submitted to unjust punishment of any kind, I shall be most displeased.'
He pulled his gloves from his hat and gave a curt bow. “I shall take my leave of you, General, for the time being.'
He did not wait for the general's goodbye, or for any word of gratitude. Louisa's exit from the room had left him cold. A curious rage had taken hold of him, and he gave full vent to it once the carriage door had closed behind him.
Eliza leapt upon him as soon as he sat down, but that did nothing to soothe his temper. He cursed General Davenport roundly for a fool and a scoundrel, while holding the puppy off. After making several ineffectual swipes at his face with her tongue, Eliza settled down and listened glumly to his tirade.
Charles had given Timothy the order to set him down at Wroxton House, where he had left his valet. But not even the sight of that talented servant could do anything to lift his spirits. He was oblivious to the startled look the man gave him when Charles thrust Eliza into his arms and instructed him to walk her before leaving her in his room for the night-just as he failed to notice the footman's enquiring gaze and Timothy's raised eyebrows.
Neither a coal fire nor a bowl of Lamb's Wool punch, skillfully concocted from hot ale, could cure Charles's malaise. Its sugar and spices turned sour on his tongue; the roasted apples and thick cream sat heavily on his stomach. Nothing could compare to the fare he had enjoyed in the Spadgers’ house.
It was plain, besides, that he had not been expected. His rooms at Wroxton House still held a chill even though the grates had been heaped high upon his arrival.
As he sat slumped in his chair, surrounded by splendour, the flames in the hearth leapt and danced before his eyes, but the circle of heat did not reach him.
He retired to bed, wondering what the devil was wrong with him, and more specifically, why he should feel so angry with himself.
Chapter Ten
London was almost empty. Whitehall was deserted, just as Charles had told Louisa it would be.
Charles tried hard to carry on, but found there was not much reason for being in a place where there was no
