A Summer Seduction (13 page)

She did not think that Lady Sedbury would have gone so far as to order the men to kill Damaris. At least, she hoped her own grandmother would not do that, no matter how much she held her in contempt. After all, the men had taken her to a house in a decent enough area; she imagined the house had not been uncomfortable inside. Probably they planned to threaten Damaris with dire consequences if she did not leave England, or perhaps they intended to transport her out of the country themselves, taking her across the Channel to Calais or some other port.

It was not a pleasant notion, realizing her father’s family hated her to such an extent. However, it had taken away much of Damaris’s fear. All she had to do to avoid the danger was to leave the city. Damaris tried to ignore the way her heart clenched at that thought. It was the only thing she could do. If she stayed, it would embroil Alec in her battle with the Sedburys, and it would be unfair of her to place him in conflict with another aristocratic family. No, she must leave.

But she could not keep her steps from dragging later as she made her way downstairs to the breakfast table. Glancing up, she spotted the white cat perched on the top of one of the draperies, peering down over his white paws. Damaris narrowed her eyes at him, remembering Edith’s tale of his trick with the maids.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, and the cat’s tail lashed, but he stayed where he was.

As she neared the breakfast room, she heard the sound of Alec’s voice, followed by the higher tone of his sister’s. Damaris was relieved not to hear his grandmother’s.

“… only Myles,” Genevieve was saying scornfully as Damaris drew near enough to distinguish their words.

“I cannot understand what you hold against Myles,” her brother responded mildly. “He is usually quite popular with young ladies.”

“Exactly,” Genevieve retorted. “The man is an inveterate flirt.”

“Ah, then you are looking for a man with serious intentions,” Alec mused, and Damaris realized with a little start of surprise that he was teasing his sister. Somehow, playful sibling teasing was not something in which she would have envisioned either of them participating.

“I am not looking for a man at all,” Genevieve shot back, and suddenly laughter gurgled up out of the girl, light and melodic and so unexpected that Damaris came to a dead stop in her surprise. “Oh, stop mocking me. One would think I was still fifteen, the way you act.”

“It has not been that long, Genny.”

“Hah. Ten years. I am a veritable ape leader now, as you well know.”

“I would never call you such a thing.”

“Only because you know I would make you regret it.”

Damaris paused at the open doorway, taking in the pleasant
scene before her. Alec sat at the head of the table with his sister at his right hand, the summer sunshine streaming in warmly through the open window beyond them. The window looked onto a small side garden, shielded from the noises of the street by a high brick wall. Roses bloomed in profusion beneath the window, their heady scent drifting inside. Alec and Genevieve sat looking at each other, their fair hair and light blue eyes strikingly similar, laughter and affection giving their expressions a warmth normally missing.

Then Genevieve glanced over at the doorway and saw Damaris, and her face settled quickly into its usual remote lines. “Mrs. Howard. Good morning.”

Unlike Genevieve, Alec’s smile broadened, and he turned, coming to his feet. “Mrs. Howard.”

His pale blue eyes were bright, and it seemed to Damaris as if they burned right into her. She felt suddenly breathless and blushing, and no matter how she told herself it was absurd for her to be this way, she could not hold back the smile that spread across her face. He came forward, then stopped a bit awkwardly. Damaris held out her hand to him, and he took it, a light flashing in his eyes, and he bowed over her hand.

“I trust that you are feeling improved after your experience last night.” His fingers tightened fractionally on hers, and Damaris was very aware of his skin warm and bare against hers. She had not, she reflected, ever seen him early in the morning. He was even more handsome, the subtle colors of his skin and hair and eyes clear and distinctive in the golden wash of the light.

“Yes, indeed, thank you.” She realized that her own fingers had tightened in response to his touch, and their hands were still together long after they should have broken their hold. A trifle embarrassed, she released his hand and turned toward the table, her eyes flickering over to Genevieve to see if she had noticed. From the carefully blank expression on the woman’s face, Damaris felt sure she had.

“I hope you found everything to your liking,” Genevieve said as Rawdon pulled out Damaris’s chair for her. She reached out and politely poured their guest a cup of tea.

“Yes, thank you. It is a lovely room.” That was no more than the truth. “So elegant.” She smiled at Genevieve and added, “I believe I met your cat this morning.”

“Xerxes?” Genevieve looked startled, then wary.

Alec let out a small snort. “‘Satan’ is more like it.”

“I hope he was no trouble to you,” Genevieve continued, ignoring her brother’s comment.

“Not at all. He merely dropped in for a visit. Such a beautiful animal. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such blue eyes on a cat.”

“He is an Angora. One of Grandmother’s friends brought him to her from Paris.”

“He likes no one but Genevieve,” Alec put in. “So he soon became her pet rather than the countess’s. He is the scourge of the rest of the household.”

“You are just jealous because Xerxes sent your dog off with his tail tucked between his legs.”

Alec chuckled. “Yes. Poor Shadow.”

As they spoke, a footman had been dishing up food onto
Damaris’s plate, and she set to eating it with some enthusiasm, her stomach reminding her that she had eaten little the day before. Genevieve and Alec kept up a casual, desultory conversation which necessitated little input from Damaris, and she was just as glad, for her own mind was occupied with making plans to leave London. After a moment, she was aware that the conversation had paused and both Alec and Genevieve were looking at her, and she realized, with a guilty start, that she must have been asked a question.

“I’m sorry. I am afraid my mind drifted,” she began.

“Perfectly understandable,” Genevieve said. “You have been through quite an ordeal. Rawdon had asked about my plans, and I was saying that I had a few calls to make this morning. But no doubt you are not feeling up to making calls.”

“Thank you for asking,” Damaris replied quickly, though, she reflected, Genevieve’s statement had not actually included an invitation, only a plausible reason for Damaris not to accompany her. “But you are, of course, right. I don’t think I shall make any calls today.”

“Perhaps you should just stay in, too, Gen,” Alec began.

“Oh, no,” Damaris hastened to say. “Pray, do not change your plans for me, Lady Genevieve. I will manage quite well on my own. I have a number of things to attend to, in any case.”

“You are most kind,” Genevieve replied, rising to her feet. “There are a number of visits I really must make, so if you will excuse me…”

Alec rose politely as his sister left the room, but sat down again immediately and turned his gaze on Damaris. “If you
have things to attend to in the city, I shall be happy to escort you. I have some business I must settle this morning, but I will be back this afternoon, and—”

“There is no need for you to rearrange your schedule,” Damaris assured him. “I need only to visit my banker and, of course, I must return to my house.”

“Damaris, we discussed this. Your maid brought your things over here.”

“Yes, of course, but surely you must see that I cannot continue to live here indefinitely.”

“I am not talking about indefinitely. Only until I find out what is going on. I plan to set a Runner to hunting for your abductors today. He is quite good, I’ve found, and I expect it will be no more than a matter of days before he tracks them down.”

“Alec! No.” Damaris’s voice rose in some alarm. “Truly, it is not necessary. You must not put yourself to any bother about this.”

“’Tis no bother.”

“No, please. Really, there is no need. I have been thinking, and it is clear to me that what I should do is leave London.”

“Leave!” His brows drew together. “But why—is there something you are not telling me? You said you didn’t know those men.”

“I don’t! I have no idea who they are. But I—I believe I may have overreacted.”

“To two men grabbing you in the street and tossing you in a carriage? How could you have overreacted?”

“What I mean is, they did not hurt me. I don’t
know
that they would have hurt me.”

“I cannot imagine what else you could think they meant to do.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t. Because you have not said anything that makes sense.”

She paused, drawing a breath, then said, on a sigh, “I am not sure, but after I thought about it, I decided… well, I believe it is a family matter.”

She had succeeded in astonishing him into speechlessness. He stared at her for a long moment. “Your family is trying to kill you?” He lifted his brows. “Perhaps my family is not as bad as I thought.”

“No, I don’t think they are trying to kill me. I just told you, they didn’t hurt me. That was what made me realize…”

“So, if it is your family, why are you running away from them?”

“I’m not running away!” Damaris retorted indignantly.

“What else would you call it?”

“Being prudent. That is what I would call it. There is no reason for me to be in London. I merely came to make some purchases, see a few plays, and so on. I have done that. Leaving is a simple solution to the problem. If I am not here, they will not be able to abduct me again.”

“Unless they follow you,” he pointed out. “If someone means to do you harm, why would they stop because you remove yourself from London? They can attack you in Chesley
just as easily—probably more so. Or on the road as you travel.”

“I am not going to Chesley. I have a mind to visit the Continent. I might summer in Switzerland.”

“Switzerland! Devil take it, Damaris, you mean to flee the country? What is going on? Please don’t expect me to believe that you are ready to run to the Continent over some trifling ‘family’ matter.”

“It isn’t trifling, at least not to them.” Damaris glanced at him and away.

She knew she ought to tell him everything. It was the only way to make him understand why her family would resort to such lengths to get rid of her. But she could not bear to see his face when she told him who she was… what she was. She had already been aware of what a proud man Rawdon was, but being here in his house, meeting his grandmother and sister, she had realized that she had probably underestimated that pride.

“I cannot tell you the details about my family,” she said in a low voice.

“You do not trust me?”

“It is not that. But it would be unfair of me to—to reveal their secrets.”

“Blast it, Damaris.” He stood up, shoving back his chair impatiently. “I am not asking you for gossip! How do you expect me to protect you when you will not tell me what is going on?”

“I
don’t
expect you to protect me. That is what I have been trying to tell you.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” Alec glared. “Stand idly by while you go out to be taken by ruffians again?”

“I don’t plan to be taken by ruffians.” Damaris stood up, too, to face him.

“I hardly think you planned it the first time.”

“Of course not.” Damaris slapped her napkin down on the table. “But I was not prepared for it then. Now I am. I am taking actions to keep from being harmed.”

“Have I given you reason to think that I cannot take care of you? Keep you from harm?” Alec lifted his chin, looking down at her from his superior height, appearing so much the essence of cold aristocratic hauteur that it made Damaris fairly vibrate with antagonism.

“It is not your responsibility to take care of me!” she shot back.

“You came to me; that makes it my responsibility.”

“No, it does not. And I am beginning to wish that I had gone somewhere else.”

“Well, you did not.” He gave her a long, baleful look, then swung away and walked to the door. He turned back. “I am going to find out who attacked you. And I am going to put a stop to it. When I return, we will thrash this all out. But in the meantime, you stay here. Inside. Do not go out and put yourself into danger.” He paused, and when Damaris made no response, he said in a goading manner, “Am I clear?”

Damaris crossed her arms, her chin jutting mutinously. “Oh. Perfectly clear.”

She had the satisfaction of seeing uncertainty flicker
across Rawdon’s controlled face before he turned and left the room. Damaris refrained from picking up her cup and tossing it out into the hallway after him, though she had a strong and childish urge to do so. She stood for a moment, fulminating, then walked out, moving in long, purposeful strides down the hall and up the stairs to her room.

“Edith, pack my things,” she said as soon as she entered her chamber.