An Heiress at Heart (28 page)

“Time will tell,” he said.

*

Geoffrey found himself partnered with Lucinda at whist, playing against James and Miss Shaw. Hightower had
insisted Ria sit with him at the other table. Geoffrey had been unable to object too strenuously to this plan, for fear of hurting Lucinda’s feelings. However, he kept a close eye on what was going on between them.

As they played, Hightower kept looking at Ria intently each time he played a card. Ria did not appear to be an accomplished player. If she had played many hours together with James, she must have since forgotten the strategies of the game. She would return Hightower’s look, and then glance down at her cards with a completely baffled expression. “Goodness me,” she said. “What was the trump again?”

They were losing nearly every hand, despite the fact that they did not have strong opponents. Mr. Shaw always played the wrong suit, and Miss Emily kept sending sidelong glances at James and Miss Shaw, as though trying to size up the competition.

Ria laid down a card that must have been a bad choice, and Hightower tossed his entire hand onto the table in disgust. “It’s good we are not playing for money,” he said. “I would have lost my fortune twice over by now.”

“I never claimed to be a good player,” Ria said with a laugh that struck Geoffrey as strained.

“Nor I,” said Miss Emily, who looked even more relieved than Ria that the game was over. She stood up and sidled in James’s direction. “Lucinda plays the piano beautifully. Perhaps we can have a dance?”

*

Lizzie thought she had been doing so well, deliberately ignoring the signals she and Freddie had developed when
they played whist together in Europe. But she had not anticipated having to dance as a result. It would have been better to win at cards than to risk dancing with him. Freddie was gloating as though Emily Cardington had played right into his plans.

“No dancing,” said Lady Thornborough, much to Lizzie’s relief. “There is no room. But it would be a pleasure to hear Miss Cardington play for us.”

Looking embarrassed, Lucinda said, “My sister overestimates my abilities.”

“Nonsense,” her mother declared roundly. “You play exquisitely.”

This hefty claim only made Lucinda look even more uncomfortable. “But I have not prepared anything.”

“We have plenty of music,” Lady Thornborough said. “Ria can help you.” She gestured to Lizzie.

“Of course.” Lizzie knew exactly where the sheet music was stored. She’d found it one day while she’d been investigating the house, trying to figure out where Martha had once hidden Lady Thornborough’s bracelet. She led Lucinda to the music cabinet.

As they selected the appropriate music, Lucinda said, “Will you help me with turning the pages?”

Lizzie hesitated. She could not admit that she did not read music. She glanced away, only to see Freddie watching and listening, as he had done all evening. All the questions he’d put to her, and the game of cards, had been nothing more than probing, testing, looking for a break in her performance to prove she was not Ria. This evening had already been excruciatingly long, and it wasn’t over yet.

She turned away from Freddie and found herself
looking into Geoffrey’s friendly countenance. He, too, had been watching her. But his attention had been welcome—unlike Freddie’s attempts to lay a snare. Over and over again, Lizzie had been drawn to the quiet strength that Geoffrey unconsciously exuded. She reminded herself that she must not lean on him too much. Nevertheless, she was grateful when he said, “I can help Miss Cardington with the music.”

This suggestion met with a murmur of approval from everyone. Lady Cardington threw a knowing glance at her husband, as though she took this as further proof of Geoffrey’s intentions toward her daughter. It probably was, Lizzie thought, with a stab of jealousy.

Lucinda shyly thanked him, barely meeting his eyes before seating herself at the piano. Lizzie noted that her hands trembled as she arranged the music.

While some of the men busied themselves rearranging chairs, Freddie was again at her side. “I doubt the poor girl will be able to play anything worth hearing. She seems afraid of her own shadow.”

“Not everyone likes being the center of attention,” Lizzie said. She herself had received far too much of it this evening.

Geoffrey was now standing next to Lucinda, poised to turn the music. Although there was a modest distance between the two of them, it was painfully easy to imagine them as a couple. Lucinda’s continued blushing did nothing to allay that impression.

Lizzie allowed Freddie to lead her to a chair.

“Perhaps Miss Cardington is trembling because Lord Somerville is so near,” Freddie said, his voice laced with
suggestive tones. “She must be in love. What a fine couple they will make.”

Lizzie’s envy was heightened by remorse. She would never be worthy to claim this man. She must be forced to endure the advances of a man like Freddie while watching Geoffrey turn his attentions toward another. That was the cruelest punishment of all. But one day soon her dealings with Freddie would be over. “We mustn’t be premature,” she said. “Nothing is official yet.”

“I’m sure it’s just a matter of time,” Freddie taunted her. He bent over to whisper in her ear. “I can’t help thinking, though, that you are the far superior woman. What a shame that the law prevents him from marrying you.”

His breath, smelling of brandy and coffee, sent a ripple of disgust through her. “Me? Oh, heavens, no,” Lizzie said with a dismissive air, marveling at what a good actress she was. “The law makes no difference in this case. My brother-in-law has no interest in me, nor I in him.”

She tried to tame the irrational wish that she could be the one seated at that piano, playing while Geoffrey leaned in to turn the pages. She could imagine the warmth of him as he stood close behind her, the glorious feeling of being all but wrapped in his arms. She fanned herself. “Miss Cardington is clearly the superior talent. I don’t play half as well.”

“On the contrary,” Freddie answered sardonically. “I would say you play rather well.”

He leaned back in his chair and said no more. Lizzie pretended to be absorbed in the music. She
had
played well, she thought. She would keep on beating back
Freddie’s advances, avoiding his poisonous darts until she had played the game her way. Most important, she would never give Freddie the satisfaction of seeing how much she loved Geoffrey. That was one truth that would remain locked in her heart forever.

                                                          
Chapter 27

G
eoffrey walked late into the night, trying to make sense out of what had happened that evening. The streets were quiet now, and he hoped the cool air would clear his head so he could find some answers.

He was aware of Ria’s former reputation as a light-headed society miss—her beautiful face and figure had captivated the gentlemen, but she hadn’t cared very much for the finer things of the mind. The Ria he was getting to know seemed more sensible and mature. It was true that at times—usually when she was in the company of others—he’d seen a certain shallowness manifest itself. But he sensed that a deeper, quieter person lay underneath. Someone whom, for no discernable reason, she seemed determined to hide.

Would Ria revert to her old ways now that she was back in London? Would she prefer to spend her time with men like James? Geoffrey believed her cousin to be a reasonably good-hearted man at his core, and yet he could not condone James’s preference for an idle and
irresponsible kind of life. Is that what Ria wanted, too? After the trial of so many difficult years, was she eager to return to a life of mindless ease?

That moment they had shared in the carriage—that moment that meant so much to Goeffrey—had she already forgotten it? Geoffrey was surprised, and not a little disconcerted, that she’d hardly spoken a word to him all evening. She’d spent most of her time with that abominable Hightower, and what was most galling, she appeared at times to be openly flirting with him. He had not missed the way Ria had laughed at her own silliness while she played cards, or the way she and Hightower had sat together whispering during Lucinda’s performance. Why, then, did he still have the sense that she was not entirely at ease around Hightower? He was positive he’d seen a look of sharp discomfort cross her face several times. She was not required to spend time with the man. What had motivated her?

His offer to turn the music for Lucinda stayed on Geoffrey’s mind, too. He knew it would only provide more fodder for the gossips. He had not intended that; his offer had been an instant decision, a reflex based on something he’d seen in Ria’s expression. Had he been wrong in thinking he’d detected distress there? Or had the distress been simply that she did not want to leave Hightower’s side?

This, he thought gloomily, brought him right back to his initial question. Hightower had monopolized her all evening, and she had allowed him to do it. Why?

Given his relative inexperience with women, Geoffrey was tempted to put the evening’s events down to his lack of understanding about how these bizarre society games were played. But something in the depths of his being insisted there was more to it than that.

Perhaps
he
was the problem. He had spent far too much time thinking of Ria. She had angered him, worried him, perplexed him, and now she was close to exhausting him. How had this been possible? He had never been a man to let his emotions rule him. Why should things be different now? He should wish to love Ria as a sister. But these were most definitely not the feelings she was drawing from him. He could only be disappointed in himself for this. He had to find some way to regain his equilibrium, and to do what was right.

Slowly he made his way back to his house. Mrs. Claridge must have been awaiting his return; she opened the front door for him. “My goodness, sir, it’s not like you to be out so late. You’ll catch your death. Don’t you know the night air is bad for you?”

He inhaled one last breath of cool air before she closed the door. “Exactly how does ‘night’ air differ from ‘daytime’ air, Mrs. Claridge? What sort of dangerous stuff does it contain?”

Mrs. Claridge gave him an exasperated look. “You do ask the strangest questions, sir.”

“Do I?” he mused. “I can assure you I have questions far more outlandish than that.” He rubbed his eyes, still trying to clear his brain. “Questions for which there seem to be no answers.”

Mrs. Claridge folded her hands comfortably in front of her as she regarded him. “It’s a good thing you know the One who has the answers, eh?” she said kindly. “If you are troubled, you might well ask Him for help.”

It was simple wisdom. And the best. “Right you are, Mrs. Claridge. As always.”

“I certainly don’t claim that,” she returned. “But
might I suggest you go to bed, sir? It only makes a person gloomy to be up all night in the shadows. Things often look better in the light of day.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Claridge. I shall be off to bed soon.”

Nevertheless, Geoffrey knew that sleep was far from him. He went to the library, still continuing his reflections over Ria. She truly was a riddle. How could she be so completely different in public than she was when the two of them were alone? What was driving the two facets of her personality?

He sighed, thought of Mrs. Claridge’s admonition, and turned to prayer.

*

The dedication ceremony had drawn quite a crowd.

Lizzie was squeezed in with other invited guests near a small stage that had been set up in front of the new housing project. Behind them, curious onlookers lined the streets, all vying for a better view. Most were gawking at the finely dressed gentlemen and ladies—a rarity in this part of London. Lady Thornborough had been too worn out by the dinner party to come this morning, but she had grudgingly allowed Lizzie to go, so long as she took along Martha and a footman for propriety’s sake.

Her first thought on arriving had been to find Geoffrey and speak to him. She’d spotted him near the stage before the ceremony began, but was unable to reach him for the crowd. He’d been surrounded by those who were the primary sponsors of this project, including the Cardingtons. Lizzie’s heart gave another jealous lurch as she saw Lucinda’s face smiling up into his as they chatted.

Lord Ashley had been waxing eloquent for quite some time about what adequate housing would mean to the deserving workers and their families. It was getting on toward noon, and the day was warm. Trickles of sweat rolled down the back of Lizzie’s neck.

“He sure knows how to talk, don’t he?” Martha whispered, causing Lizzie to smile.

But the earl was nearing the end of his speech. “And now, I would like to invite the Reverend Lord Somerville to give the benediction.”

Lizzie was positively enraptured as she watched Geoffrey walk up the steps to the platform. He looked so handsome, so dignified. He looked out over the crowd, and his eyes seemed to catch hers almost immediately. He could do no more than give her a brief smile, but Lizzie did not miss the sincerity behind it. He was glad she was here. She smiled back broadly.