Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

" W hat is it?" Frederick asked. "You look almost melancholy tonight, Frontershire."

John fussed with his cravat, pulling the knot away from his throat before fanning himself with his hand. "You are mistaking ennui for melancholy, my friend," he retorted. "I am nothing more or less than bored senseless and hot…abominably so. Must we stand here near the refreshment table? Can we not go over there by the windows?"

"You may do whatever you please," Frederick returned while jerking his head slightly to the left. "I have my eye on one particular pretty young lady, and I shan't be moved until I can find a moment to speak with her in private."

Curious, John's eyes drifted toward the group of young women. He looked them over carefully, then tugged at his cravat again and grumbled, "They all look the same to me. Which has caught your attention?"

Frederick chortled. "Is that why you are so disgruntled? You and I have taken a fancy to the same lady?" He lowered his chin and sent a dashing smile at some unknown young woman which only caused John to guffaw loudly.

"Unfortunately, I cannot even relish the idea of competing with you for the hand of one of these maidens," he replied. "None of them excite any part of me." Frederick snickered once more, but John ignored the intrusion and proceeded with his explanation, "I thought it would be easy to find myself a wife among these candidates, but they all either throw themselves at my feet or spend their time talking incessantly about the fashions they are wearing. I find them tedious and…"

"Boring," Frederick interrupted as he smirked slyly. "Yes, I heard what you said before, but I can hardly believe it. What happened to my friend, the Charming Rake, who made his own fun when there was none to be found?" Sweeping his hand wide, he continued, "Can you not identify one young lady in this bunch who might be sporting and worthy of your attention?"

John's eyes flicked quickly around the room, but he saw no one who caused any emotion to stir within his body or mind. All the ladies were dressed marvelously and some displayed elegant manners, but he was not attracted to or even aroused by any of them.

Agitated, he gave up on fiddling with his cravat and prepared to stalk out of the room, but he held steady when Frederick reached forward and grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"

"I do not know," he admitted. "But the air is stifling in here, as is the company, and I cannot seem to find the levity in the situation."

"Very well," Frederick said, relinquishing his hold on John's arm. "Be off with you. Go for a stroll through the garden. But if you should come looking for me later, do not expect to find me." A slow, catlike smile spread wide across his face. "I intend to make my exit very shortly as well and if I am not mistaken, that young lady will be accompanying me."

John did not even bother to turn and glance at the young lady who was very likely going to spend the rest of the evening with Frederick. He did not care much what his friend did, and a sick sense of dissatisfaction roiled though his stomach as he marched out of the stuffy ballroom.

He knew he ought to head straight to his bedchambers, but John also understood just how impossible it would be to fall asleep. Not only was it still a tad early in the evening, but if he tried to drift off right now, with his mind being so aggravated, there was a great likelihood he would conjure his brother's image in his dreams.

So, he steered clear of his bedchambers, and he elected to avoid the gardens as well. Other gentlemen attending the ball might not have his reputation, but he could bet there would be couples dotting the pathway outside, having a private moment, and he was not the sort of chap who wished to ruin such secretive meetings. So, he found his way to the library. He had resolutely stayed away from the place after his encounter with Lady Olivia simply because he thought there was a chance they might cross paths again in the same spot if he returned, but now, it seemed like a safe bet to go there because she would likely be otherwise entertained by the merrymaking happening in the ballroom.

But no sooner had John thought of Lady Olivia than she appeared. He was just rounding the corner when he caught sight of her dark hair, and without really thinking about what he was doing, he hastened his step, so he might catch up to her.

"Where are you going?" he asked as he came within an arm's reach of her, and she rounded on him immediately.

A look of fright was clearly stamped on her face, and that gave John pause.

"What is it?" he asked when she failed to answer his previous question. "Are you hurt? Do you need my assistance?"

"Go away," she hissed.

"But…you are out in the corridor all alone," John pointed out. "And you look upset. Has something happened to vex you?"

Olivia shook her head wildly. "Yes…no…I mean…" She paused and took a deep breath. "I need to find my mama. A footman said she asked me to meet her in the library, so if you will excuse me, I will just be…"

"But why is she there?" John wanted to know. "Why would she leave the ballroom and…"

"That is what I am trying to find out," she snapped waspishly. Her eyes locked onto his, and he could see the perturbation glittering in those orbs. "I beg you to excuse me, my lord, but I must be off."

I cannot just allow her to wander off all alone. If there really is some catastrophe, it is likely that Lady Olivia and the dowager will need my help.

Even though she had made it apparent that she wished to handle this situation on her own, John was inclined to trail her into the library. The look of terror he had seen on her face moments before was all the persuasion he needed to make him want to persevere.

But when he entered the library, just a few steps behind Lady Olivia, he saw that the place was very dark. The other day, when they'd been there reading, a warm fire had been crackling and several candles had lit the room providing a nice, soft, and welcoming glow. Now, all the candles were extinguished and just a hint of a fire burned low in the grate.

"Where is she?" Lady Olivia grumbled irritably.

"Do not fear," John assured her. "We shall check the whole room before making assumptions."

Lady Olivia whirled on him. "You followed me?"

"Of course," he retorted. "I could not let you wander the halls by yourself. Think of what people would say if they saw you leaving the ballroom and wandering off all alone."

She huffed. "But if they should find us here…together…"

"No one will happen upon us," John replied. "And if they do, we shall simply allow your mother to vouch for our innocence." He swept his hand broadly around the library. "Even though we do not see her at first glance, if she is truly mired in a quagmire, requiring your assistance, she may be hiding out in here."

Lady Olivia breathed deeply. "I suppose it is possible." She nodded to the left. "Please check the armchairs, and I will fling aside the curtains in the back of the room. I cannot see where she could be hiding, but it does not make much sense for her to summon me to leave the ball and meet her here, either."

"Very well." John followed Lady Olivia's orders to the letter, but as she predicted, her mother was nowhere to be found. He even ventured over to the far corner of the room where he knew the servant's staircase was hidden, but John found nothing other than an entirely empty space.

"Where should we look now?" he asked as he circled back to the closed door, meeting Olivia in the place where the hunt began.

" We are done searching," she said brusquely. "I shall continue to look for my mother on my own and…" She paused and inhaled slowly then spoke again, this time with much less harshness shading her tone. "I thank you for your help, Lord Frontershire, but I must ask that you return to the ballroom. My problems are great enough at present, and I do not wish to add to them by being discovered all alone with you."

"I see." John nodded respectfully. "But when you find your mama, please send a servant to tell me as much. Otherwise, I shall do nothing but think of you the rest of the evening."

Even though the light was dim in the room, John could see the way Lady Olivia's eyes widened in surprise. "You think of me?"

Tempted to detail all the ways he had thought of her since touching her bare skin and running his tongue over her bosom, John contented himself with joking, "Not as much as you think of me."

She scoffed. "How can you be so…so…"

"Charming?" John inserted, while giving her a soft smile.

"That is not the word I intended to use at all." Lady Olivia turned fully to the side then scooted around him. "Now, if you will step aside, I shall open this door and go look for my mother. I will just…" She stopped with her hand gripping the doorknob.

"What?" he questioned, puzzled by her sudden halt.

She jiggled the knob frantically then turned and gazed at him. The panicked look on her face was evident. "The door will not open."

"If you need me to help you, my lady, all you need to do is ask for my assistance nicely," John quipped as he stepped around her and reached for the doorknob. But when he gave it a hearty twist, he met with resistance. "What is this?" He stared down at the unyielding door handle. "The thing will not budge."

"Precisely as I said," Lady Olivia commented snidely.

"Now is not the time to squabble," John lectured, pivoting so he could look directly in her eyes. "We both agree that somehow the door has locked itself behind us, but…"

"But I need to find my mother," Lady Olivia interjected as the obstinate look faded from her eyes and was replaced, once more, by panic. "We cannot be stuck in here when my mama is out there. I do not know what has happened to her and…"

What happened next was only to be expected. Overcome by her emotions, Lady Olivia lifted both palms and began beating them against the heavy wooden door. She battered away, all the while shrieking for someone to come quickly and help.

"Will you stop that?" John asked as he stepped between her and the door. "There is nothing you can do and making a racket will not…"

"You did this," she seethed, filling her words with a wealth of accusations. "You wanted to be in here with me again, and when you followed me into the library, you locked the door behind us." Her eyes narrowed. "Produce the key, my lord. Do it now or…"

"Or what?" John challenged. He did not have the key, of course, and he had no knowledge as to why or how the door had managed to lock behind them. But he was curious to learn how she might end that particular statement.

"I shall scream," Lady Olivia retorted. "I shall tell anyone who will listen that you are a scoundrel and a vile…"

"Do not say anything you cannot take back later," John cautioned her. "You do not know that I locked the door behind us, and I must ask you to take me at my word. I had nothing to do with our present predicament."

She eyed him skeptically. Tilting her head to the side, she continued inspecting him, and John got the strong feeling that if he did not say more to soothe her, she might throw propriety to the wind and begin patting him down, conducting a thorough search of his pockets for that missing key. As enticing at it was to think of having her hands pawing all over him, John knew he should not press her.

"Lady Olivia," he said softly, "do allow yourself to access your reasonable side. You know that if I wanted to spend time alone with you, if I wished to seduce you, I would not have orchestrated an affair like this one. I would never involve your mama or frighten you by pretending she was in danger and…"

"Mama!" An outraged shriek erupted from Lady Olivia's lips. Apparently, he had said enough to dissuade her from believing he had trapped them both there but done nothing to assuage her fears concerning her mother. "Mama!" she cried as she resumed pounding the door, using her balled fists to create as much noise as possible.

"Will you desist?" John barked, flattening his body against the door and preventing her from continuing to hammer upon the wood. He could see the way her chest heaved and hear how her breathing had become ragged. He was overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of sympathy for the lady.

"Listen," he said in the softest tone he could manage, "I know you are distressed, but you cannot behave in such a manner. Someone will hear you, and they will come running."

"That is precisely what I want," she interrupted.

"No," he countered, "it is not. For if someone does come upon us, all they will see is that we are closeted here together. The last time we found ourselves in this position, we were lucky to be caught by my aunt. She showed leniency and did not speak of our dalliance to any others." He sighed. "At house parties like this, it is expected that ladies and gentlemen will sneak away, so they may share a private moment. If someone should catch us now…"

"They will assume the worst," Lady Olivia concluded then her shoulders sagged, and she hung her head ashamedly.