The Baron's Charade (Regency Stories Book 3) Read online

  He paused for a few moments and then continued. “Thank you all for your kind words,” he said. “And for those words of doubt, as well.”

  Miss St. Clair’s eyes narrowed, and she turned and walked away as the others broke off from the group.

  Heading to a nearby footman, Daniel grabbed a glass of wine and took a large drink. The woman was dangerous with her questioning. Her temper was fiery, yet it was also controlled, and only a fool would pursue such a venomous creature. However, he found he could not get her out of his mind. Perhaps he simply found her attractive. Yet, the fact that she had attempted to discredit him should have been enough to force him to keep his distance.

  “Maybe I am that fool,” he said to himself. He let out a heavy sigh and went out in search of her.

  Chapter Three

  With her parents engaged in conversation, Isabel slipped out of the ballroom and headed toward the front door. Thankfully no one was nearby as she stepped outside and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air. The weather had been cool as of late, it was not overly chilled, though the haze around the moon showed that colder weather was on its way.

  She was still angered at the tale the Baron had told, and more so especially after his treatment of her when she had questioned him. He spoke with a tongue that was laced with arrogance—and of one caught in a lie. Did he honestly expect people to believe such rubbish?

  She winced. When she first began to listen to his recitation, she had believed his story. However, as that story progressed, the more he spoke, the less believable it became. What she learned during that encounter was nothing new, for she had always known him to be overly dramatic—or was it that he was ostentatious in his mannerisms? What she truly wanted to do was admonish him for his lies, but she would not. He was no gentleman and therefore not worthy of the time it would take for her to deal with such trivial matters. Yet, if that were true, then why was she still so angry with him?

  She made her way around to the side of the grand home. The gardens of Lord Sherman’s house were large and ornate, but she took little notice of them as she walked past them—she did not stomp!—and down the path until she came to a stop. To one side sat the stables, which were highlight by the light of the moon. A fitting scene for such an evening—a landscape that appeared as if in a dream.

  “The moonlight only highlights the beauty of the lady in front of me,” a whispered voice said from behind her, making her jump and her heart to beat as if she had been in a footrace.

  With her hand to her breast, she willed her heart to slow as she turned to lock eyes with the Baron. She went to speak but found the man who towered over her made her legs weak. Perhaps it was due to the fright she had gotten when he surprised her, but it most certainly was not the smile he had on his lips.

  “Fine jewels adorn the women of the ton, but you are the most precious of them all.” Then he bowed. “I am Daniel Charmain, and it is an honor to be in your presence.”

  His words made her heart flutter while at the same time making her want to laugh. A jewel? How preposterous! And yet, she could not help a warm feeling from washing over her. She had to force herself to straighten her back. She certainly would not fall for his charm; she was not one of those wide-eyed hysterical types who graced so many of these gatherings in search of some man to sweep her off her feet. “Lord Charmain,” she said with only the smallest of curtsies, “your words are sweet to be sure, but I fear that, much like your tale, they are not spoken in truth.”

  He gave a heavy sigh that seemed far-fetched as he clasped his hands to his chest. Yes, ostentatious most certainly was an accurate manner in which to describe this man. “It pains me so that thy fair maiden speaks of me in such a way.”

  Isabel scrunched her brow, wondering why the man was speaking as if he were reading lines in a play. Ostentatious? The man was downright pompous!

  “I’m sorry you do not believe me,” he said as if interpreting her thoughts. “My offer for passage to India still stands, however.”

  She sniffed. “I appreciate the invitation; however, I cannot go. For one, I would not be allowed to travel unchaperoned with a man, of which, of course, you would be aware. Second, I will be leaving for London in two days’ time for the Season, and I most certainly do not want to miss such an occasion.”

  “London,” he said with another deep sigh as he walked over to a nearby pillar and leaned against it. “Such a place of dreams and wonders.”

  “So, you have been?” Isabel asked, surprised at herself for asking. Well, he was being pleasant at the moment.

  “Oh, quite often,” he replied. “Though, the novelty has long since expired. You seem anxious to go, as if it is your first outing. Is it?”

  Isabel could not help but curl her hand into a fist, but she was not certain what exactly made her bristle so. “I have been many times,” she lied. “It is a city filled with true gentlemen, unlike the men who can be found here.” As often as she said those words, she could only assume that it was true. Why else would so many young ladies of the ton go to London but to find men who were true gentlemen? She believed it as much as she believed the sky was blue on a cloudless day.

  However, the man had the audacity to laugh! “Oh, my poor child,” he said. Child? How dare he call her a child when he was not that much older than she! “How naive you are. There are just as many gentlemen there as there are here in this house.”

  Isabel snorted, which only spiked her ire that much more, for a young lady did not snort. “No gentlemen exist here!” she said, perhaps louder than she had wanted.

  “My point exactly,” the Baron said as he pushed himself away from the pillar. “Other than myself, of course.”

  He laughed at this, but Isabel did not. She found it difficult to keep her face smooth, for what she truly wanted to do was lash out at him. This only stoked the flames of her ire that much more.

  The man did not seem to take notice of her anger. “But by all means, go and seek out this gentleman you wish to find. Let me know when you find him, for I would be interested in meeting a man who does not exist.”

  Isabel had had enough of this man mocking her. “Thank you, Lord Charmain, for you will most certainly be the first person I inform. Oh, and by the way, when you tell a story, might I suggest that you at least make it believable?”

  “You did not believe me?” he asked, his voice now quiet.

  For a moment, she felt regret for calling the man out as a liar, but the regret passed as quickly as it came. He was a liar, and it was only right to point out when one was found. “I do not,” she snapped. “A wild animal being tamed by being fed a banana is the wildest and most far-fetched tale I have ever heard. Even surpassing those of giants and winged creatures of mythology.” She gave him a smile and bent her head to him. “Good evening to you, my lord.”

  She turned to leave, but his hand shot out and came to rest on her arm, his thumb touching her skin just above her gloves. Somehow, that touch burned—not in an unpleasant manner—and she felt a strange heat move through her.

  “Please,” he said, “one moment more of your time.”

  She gave a meaningful stare at his hand and he pulled it away, his face reddening slightly. “It is not proper for us to be out here together without a chaperone,” she said. “I must return lest my parents worry and chastise me.”

  “Do not worry, for I will not allow anyone to speak ill of you.”

  “And how is it you believe you can stop the wagging of tongues?”

  “I’m a baron,” he replied as if that should explain everything.

  She could do nothing but sigh. It was clear the man would not give up, and she lacked the will to simply walk away again. “Very well, but I cannot remain long.”

  “I only wished to say what I now have the courage to say…”

  “Isabel? What on earth are you doing out here?” Isabel’s mother exclaimed. She did not sound happy at all.

  Isabel turned to her mother and the frown the woman wore onl
y emphasized the anger behind the words she had spoken. Isabel was indeed in trouble, and it was all the fault of Lord Charmain. Despite the fear she had for her mother, she turned to give the man one more glare but was shocked to find the man hunched over and breathing heavily as he shook his head.

  “Ladies,” he said breathlessly, “forgive me for intruding on your conversation. Please allow me a moment to find my breath once more.”

  With wide eyes, Isabel stared at the man. What was he up to? If he caused her more trouble…

  “You did not intrude, Lord Charmain,” her mother said. “I just came outside myself. Are you all right?”

  The man nodded and then straightened to rub the small of his back. “I am, thank you,” he replied, still breathless. “I came out for fresh air, alone, and then I heard a noise.” He motioned toward the stables. “There was a wolf, and I gave chase lest it kills one of the fine steeds stabled there.”

  “Such bravery!” her mother exclaimed with a gasp.

  Isabel had to fight back the urge to laugh. Wolves? In England? What nonsense! From what she had read, they had been extinct for at least two hundred years! However, the man had kept his promise to see that she was not chastised for being found alone in his company, so rather than upbraid him for this new lie, she listened to her mother and the Baron exchange a few polite words.

  As they spoke, she took a moment to study the man who had almost caused her great embarrassment. Arrogant, full of lies, handsome, and devilish. So many traits, both good and bad. It was a pity he was not a gentleman.

  “It has been an honor to speak with you, Mrs. St. Clair,” the Baron said with a deep bow. “However, I must return to the party. Please, be cautious of the wolf; I fear there are at least a dozen out there.” He hurried inside before either woman could speak, and Isabel’s mother took her arm.

  “Come inside where it is safer,” she told Isabel. “There are too many wolves to be out here.”

  “Yes, mother,” Isabel replied, though she suspected there was at least one wolf who had just entered the house.

  ***

  The next morning, Isabel sat at her vanity table whilst her lady’s maid, Caroline, brushed out her hair. The previous night, Isabel and her mother had returned to the party and stayed another hour, though she did not speak with Lord Charmain again. In truth, she struggled to keep control over the curiosity she had for what the man had wanted to tell her before her mother had arrived and interrupted them. In a way, she had been relieved when the woman had arrived, for his words had brought on a feeling of lightheadedness Isabel had not expected, and though he was known for outrageous tales, she found herself still wanting to hear them. What a strange predicament in which she found herself!

  Though his story about seeing a wolf in the stables had been a barefaced lie, her mother had somehow believed it! Yet, that same lie had kept Isabel from enduring the wrath of her mother, so she had to give credit where it was due. Always one to do what she could to please her parents, Isabel oftentimes feared that one day she would disappoint them. She had always worked hard to be the model daughter, never speaking back to her parents, never defying them in any way. However, allowing Lord Charmain to lie on her behalf was a necessary evil. Granted, it was still wrong, but she was thankful that the man had saved her from the repercussions of being found alone in his company.

  “You seem especially quiet this morning, Miss Isabel,” Caroline said. “Is something troubling you?” Caroline had only been in the family’s employ for the past five years, and as soon as Isabel had turned eighteen years, the woman had been placed in her current position. However, Isabel had come to trust Caroline with all of her secrets—the few she had, that is, for she was not one to keep secrets in most cases. Until now. What Isabel had to decide was whether or not she should confide in her lady’s maid about the truth of what had happened the previous evening.

  After careful consideration, Isabel decided that she could not risk telling anyone, including a woman expected to keep such confidences; however, the desire to tell all itched like a mosquito bite. “Oh, no,” she replied to the woman’s inquiry. “I was just thinking of the events of last evening.” There. She did not have to lie after all.

  Caroline gave a nod and set the brush on the table. “I see,” she said, though she did not take her eyes off Isabel’s reflection in the mirror.

  The woman never made any indication that she knew Isabel was keeping a secret, but Isabel could not help but falter under the maid’s steady gaze. She had a motherly presence about her, and that only made Isabel’s stomach churn more.

  “Oh bother! I cannot lie!” Isabel squealed. “There was a man there, the Baron Charmain. Do you know of him?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss, I don’t,” Caroline said. “But are you taken with him?”

  Isabel considered the woman’s words for a moment before replying. “I’m not sure that taken would be the correct term, but I do find myself curious about him.” Of course, Caroline smiled at this, but Isabel shook her head. She had to make it clear her standing when it came to this man. “Not in the area of love, mind you. No, nowhere near love. However, there is something…interesting about him.” She looked over her shoulder at the maid. “Why do men lie?”

  “Oh, I see,” Caroline replied with a knowing grin as she picked up the brush once more. “Turn back around, Miss; this might take some time.” She separated a small section of hair and began applying a curling iron to it. “You see, men are peculiar creatures and have a tendency to lie often.”

  “I have learned as much, and I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it.”

  Caroline laughed. “Trust me, most women know men lie, but we just don’t address it outright.” She dropped the curl and worked on another section, testing the temperature of the hair with her fingers.

  Isabel stared at the woman’s reflection. “But whyever not? They should be put in their place for their falsehoods, should they not?”

  “Have you known any man to listen to the council of a woman?” Caroline asked.

  Isabel pursed her lips. “No, I suppose not. Yet, why not speak the truth? Why should their lies be allowed to continue?”

  Pulling another curl from the iron, Caroline smiled. “Well, for one, if we did, they’d only tell us more lies to cover up for the ones they told in the first place. What you really need to consider is, what did this man tell you that you believe was a lie? And why does it bother you so?”

  “There were two things, really,” Isabel said. “The first was a tale of his trip to India.” She explained the story about the tiger.

  “Well, I don’t know anything about India or about tigers, so I can’t say whether he’s telling the truth or not,” Caroline said in response. “But if you say you’ve read about them, then I’m sure you’d know best now, wouldn’t you?”

  “Exactly!” Isabel said. “The man had the audacity to scold me in front of the other guests when I asked him questions about it. Mind you, I did not outright call him to confess his deceit, but I did question him.”

  Caroline simply shrugged but did not reply.

  “The second issue I had with him was that he followed me outside when I went to get some fresh air. There he mocked me for wanting to go to London and said that no gentleman can be found there.” Just the reminder of that made her want to throw something at the Baron. “There is a third reason I am angry with the man.” Her cheeks reddened considerably as she said this. “He said I was beautiful and compared me to a jewel, of all things. Do women enjoy hearing such rubbish?”

  “I believe he is telling the truth there, Miss,” Caroline replied matter-of-factly as she placed a pin in Isabel’s hair. “You are a beautiful woman.”

  “I appreciate you saying so,” Isabel replied, though she knew most lady’s maids said such things to their mistresses. “However, his tale of the tiger? I know it is a lie, and I am so certain that the idea that he would expect me to be so thickheaded as to believe such drivel is a personal af
front.” By the time she finished her tirade, Isabel realized she had raised her voice. Even her ears were red!

  However, Caroline, the wonderful lady’s maid that she was, gave no indication that she noticed. “So, he’s not the gentleman you’re looking for, I assume?”

  Isabel could not help but laugh. Had the woman not heard her just now, or the many times before? “No, he is far from it. The gentleman I seek is kind, caring, and does not speak lies. He will be handsome, educated, and yet will not look down on others. He will encourage me in my own studies as well as learn alongside me.” She said the words as a litany, for she had said them often enough to know exactly what she wanted in a suitor.

  Caroline smiled. “Miss, perhaps the Baron was correct about your journey to London, for the gentleman you seek may not exist.”

  “I’m afraid he does,” Isabel corrected the woman. “And it is in London where I shall find him.” She rose from the stool and turned to face her lady’s maid. “Though I do wish to know why he lied about any of the things he said.”

  “Miss Isabel,” Caroline said in that motherly tone she seemed to enjoy using with Isabel at times when she wanted to correct her without overstepping her bounds, “we all have told lies in our life. I don’t believe any of us are innocent of that. Sometimes people lie to win the admiration of others, while some do it to hide something they don’t wish others to know about them. I’m not saying I know which is the reason this Baron of yours chose to lie to you, but there you have it.”

  Isabel could not ignore the sensibility of the words the woman spoke. “I suppose you are right,” she said. Then she pursed her lips. “He is hiding something, though, and I have no idea what it could be.” She went to her wardrobe and chose a dress. “When I return from London, I will make it my duty to find out what the man’s reasoning was for telling such an outrageous story.”

  “Are you sure you don’t care for him?” Caroline asked as she helped Isabel dress.

  “Absolutely not,” Isabel replied firmly. “I care nothing for him or his ways. I’m merely setting out to find out the why behind men and there lies.”