An Heiress at Heart (13 page)

                                                          
Chapter 12

G
eoffrey had caught sight of them just as James had been presenting her with a flower.

Even from a distance he could see the dramatic gesture James had used, as flowery as the bloom he’d been flourishing. But it was the grace with which Ria had accepted it that most riveted him.

What was the point of James’s overwrought gallantry? Geoffrey hoped James was not sincerely wooing her. Ria was too good for James. Startled to find himself thinking this after the way she’d irritated and unsettled him, he amended to himself that,
despite her many faults,
she was too good for James.

James was a womanizer and a wastrel. He did not know how to keep two shillings in his pocket. It was rumored that his family fortunes were low and James would have to procure a rich wife in order to maintain the lifestyle to which he was accustomed. That would leave Ria out of the running. Ria had clearly returned from Australia without a shilling to her name. She was
due an inheritance from her father, but it would not be large enough to support opulent living.

Ria stood still as a statue as he approached. The bright red flower in her hand set off the dark gray gown she wore. Behind her, the Crystal Palace glinted in the sun. She had been smiling at James, but as her eyes met Geoffrey’s, the smile had faded, to be replaced with the same wariness he had seen yesterday. He had the impression that he was literally watching walls spring up around her.

When he reached them, James shook his hand. “I should have known you’d be up early, rambling about the park.”

“I must say I never expected to see you,” Geoffrey replied. “Isn’t it a bit early for the smart set to be out?”

The implied criticism rolled off James as smoothly as the water off the ducks in the Serpentine. “It makes no difference nowadays,” he said easily. “All the hubbub from the Exhibition has ruined the afternoon walks on Rotten Row. And in any case, I am sacrificing myself for our dear Ria. We thought a walk might be good for her health.”

Geoffrey turned to Ria and gave her a bow. He wanted to speak, but even the commonplace pleasantries managed to escape him. Seeing her made each scar on his heart hurt afresh. And yet she stood there so still, so beautiful. Not looking at all like a woman capable of bringing scandal and heartache to two families.

She nodded in return, but said nothing.

The frostiness of this exchange did not appear to escape James. “Come, come,” he said. “You two cannot still be angry with one another?” He gently disengaged
Ria’s arm and held it toward Geoffrey. “You must at least shake hands.”

Geoffrey took her hand. She seemed reluctant to leave it there, but made no move to pull away.

“I decree,” said James, “that from here on out, we shall remember the dearly departed with love and reverence, but we shall not let it interfere with what we are about today. Life goes on, you know.”

Geoffrey did not trust himself to look at Ria’s face just then, so he studied her hand. The black glove upon it was new, and the workmanship was fine. Even through his own gloves he could feel the leather was soft and supple. The thought crossed his mind—wildly inconsequential to this moment—that Lady Thornborough’s visit to Regent Street had yielded excellent results.

He raised his gaze and found himself once again captive to those violet-blue eyes. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Life goes on.”

The tense wariness holding her body seemed to subside a little.

James grinned his approval. “Thank goodness that’s done,” he said. “Now, Geoffrey, give her your arm.” He took Ria’s hand and placed it on Geoffrey’s arm.

They began once more to follow the path by the Serpentine, with Ria walking between the two men.

“It is so pleasant to walk together,” James remarked to no one in particular. “Don’t you agree?”

Geoffrey was keenly aware of Ria’s nearness. Every nerve telegraphed how close she was to him. It was the same curious sensation he’d felt when he’d taken her arm in Lady Thornborough’s parlor. This time, however, his limbs managed to function, and he was grateful for it.

He was barely conscious of James’s animated remarks about some aspect of the Great Exhibition and the effect of the crowds on Hyde Park. He was glad Ria was making enough replies to James so that the conversation could continue without his help.

He was startled back into the conversation when James said, “Do you have a carriage nearby, Geoffrey?”

“Yes. I told my driver to meet me beyond Kensington Gardens.”

“Excellent.” James stifled a yawn. “I have reached my limit for walking today. I must find my bed before I keel over from exhaustion. Ria is still filled with energy, however. I’m sure she would love to walk with you as far as Kensington Gardens. Might I prevail upon you to drive her home?”

“James, you cannot be leaving me,” Ria protested. No doubt she preferred James’s company to his. After yesterday, he could not blame her.

James was already extricating himself from her grasp. “You two have much to talk about, and I would only be in the way.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” James interrupted with a smile. “You’ll be in good hands. He’ll protect you from the teeming masses.”

Yes,
Geoffrey thought,
but who will protect me from her?

They watched him stride swiftly down the path that led back to the eastern entrance to the park. “James seems to have a great deal of energy for a man that is exhausted,” Geoffrey remarked.

“I’m sorry if he has put you out,” Ria said. “He is a
dear, but he is a bit like a shooting star—taking you by surprise, delighting you, and then disappearing.”

Despite the weightier things pressing on his mind, Geoffrey found himself amused at this description. “I’m well aware of this quality of his, although I’m sure I never heard it described quite like that.” Perhaps James’s
joie de vivre
was something Geoffrey should cultivate, too.

Although he had wanted to talk to Ria, he thought he would have more time to organize his thoughts beforehand. Perhaps it was for the best, however. They could speak privately now, without interference from Lady Thornborough or James.

He was intensely aware of Ria’s hand on his arm as they walked. The scent of her hair was sweeter than any of the flowers trimming the path. This would have been far easier, Geoffrey reflected, if they had been sitting in a parlor at a respectable distance from each other.

It had been easier to think of Ria in the abstract, when he could picture her as a headstrong girl who needed to be reined in. It was far more difficult when he was confronted with her in person, walking placidly beside him.

“Ria,” he began. “I’m glad we have a few minutes to speak together. I was planning to call on you today.”

She tensed, her walls rising back into place. She kept her eyes focused across the river, on the people coming and going from the Crystal Palace. “I’m sure you have many questions. I am willing to answer them, of course. But first, I hope that you will allow me to apologize for my behavior yesterday.”

Geoffrey looked down at her, startled. This conversation might go more easily than he had imagined.

“Please understand,” she continued, “that I do not apologize for our decision to go to Australia.”

Naturally not. “I see.”

“However, it
was
rude of me to speak so harshly. I know you cared deeply for your brother.” She regarded him earnestly. “I’m sorry that we began our acquaintance on such a sour note. Edward was so desirous that you and I should be friends.”

“Yes, that sounds like Edward. He always wanted to be friends. With everyone.”

“Are you implying it was a failing? As faults go, it’s not such a terrible one to have.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Geoffrey acknowledged. Friendships came so easily to Edward. Geoffrey had secretly envied him for that. Geoffrey was more guarded about whom he took into his circle of friends.

“Edward often spoke proudly of you and William,” Ria said. “He believed his own life had fallen far short. He wanted to be worthy of your love and admiration.”

“He always had my love,” Geoffrey pointed out.

“But not your admiration.”

Geoffrey did not answer. Ria’s point was true enough, although there were qualities in Edward that Geoffrey might have wished he had in stronger measure.

“He wanted to prove that he could be successful on his own merits, without help from the family,” Ria said. “He wanted to make you proud.”

“Well, it was an insanely foolish way to go about it,” Geoffrey said. “He would have made me much more proud if he had—”

“Please.” Ria took both his hands in hers. “Let us not quarrel about the past. We cannot change it.”

Her eyes searched his, her face open and appealing, and any further words of recrimination died in Geoffrey’s throat. Perhaps she was teaching him about forgiveness. The silence lengthened, broken only by a soft rustle of leaves in the trees overhead. Geoffrey sighed. “You are right. And I must apologize to you for speaking in anger yesterday.”

She smiled. A cool breeze moved across the Serpentine and teased a stray curl of hair at her neck. Once again Geoffrey had the same absurd notion as he had at yesterday’s meeting: that it would be hard to deny this woman anything.

He stepped back, dropping her hands, although not in anger as he had done the day before. This time he moved away because it was too difficult to think clearly when she was so close.

Propriety, however, dictated that he offer her his arm, and once again they began to stroll along the river path. Even with her nearness, her hand gently resting on his arm, movement was preferable to standing there, spellbound, unable to see anything beyond her lovely countenance.

He found his breath returning as they moved. “Ria, you were correct in saying that we should not dwell on the past. As it happens, the present is exactly what I would like to discuss. What are your plans now that you have returned to England?”

                                                          
Chapter 13

L
izzie stumbled on a root. Geoffrey’s hands tightened on her arm to keep her from falling. She found her balance and smiled her thanks, and his grip relaxed.

She was thankful for those few extra seconds to consider her response. She reminded herself of one of Ria’s maxims:
If you are going to tell a lie, put as much truth in it as possible. Tell the truth and you can forget it; tell a lie and you must remember it forever.

The advice was sound. “I hope to live as quietly as possible,” Lizzie said, which was the absolute truth. “I need time to regain my strength.”

“And then?” Geoffrey pressed.

“I am eager to get to Rosewood.”

“But you will remain in town for the rest of the season, will you not?”

“Yes.” Lizzie sighed. “I would have been happier to leave for the country right away. I’m sure it would be better for my health.”
And keep me away from prying eyes and questions.

“Lady Thornborough is not of that opinion?”

“No. Dr. Layton says I am out of danger, and Grandmamma is adamant about staying in town.”

“I think it only fair to warn you that you will have a difficult time leading this ‘quiet life’ of which you speak. All of London knows you have returned. You will be invited everywhere.”

Lizzie recalled the uncomfortable conversation at breakfast. “I’ve tried to explain to Grandmamma that I have no desire to go out into society at all.”

“No?” Geoffrey looked unconvinced. “I would have thought you’d be excited about getting back to dinner parties and soirees. William said you enjoyed such things.”

She gave him a reproving look. “Believe me, I am not the same light-headed society girl who left England ten years ago.” Once again, Lizzie considered she was speaking the truth. But it went beyond the fact that she wasn’t actually Ria. When she’d run off with the handsome and debonair Freddie Hightower, she’d been young, naïve, and in love, just as Ria had been. She was far different now. She’d learned that exterior refinements were not the real measure of a man.