Artful Deceptions (20 page)

Rhys brought his own mount around, kissed his grandmother’s cheek, and swung into place beside the carriage as the driver cautiously maneuvered the team though the narrow lane and back toward the main road.

Melanie’s questions began the instant they were out of sight of the cottage. “Your grandmother? You never told us about a grandmother. Is she foreign? How did she come to live here in the middle of nowhere?” She would have asked more, but Arianne caught her arm and pinched her into silence.

Not completely caught off-guard by this barrage, Rhys only hesitated long enough to formulate the replies. Riding beside the carriage, he didn’t look at the occupants, but spoke with his gaze on the road ahead.

“My grandmother is a Romany. She has only come to live here these last years, when she decided she was too old to wander any longer, and had no people of her own to travel with. My mother had the house built for her long ago, for those few times when she visited. It is as close to a home as she has ever known. My grandfather was English, but a younger son with no land of his own. He died when my mother was quite little, without having time to acquire any.”

His words cut off quite abruptly, as if, having answered all the questions, he need say no more. Arianne was afraid the explanation would only lead to a dozen more questions, but for once Melanie had the sense to keep quiet. She gave Rhys’s straight back a thoughtful look before speaking.

“I liked her. I wish we could have had time to talk longer.”

Rhys gave her a startled glance, then looked away again. “Perhaps some other day. She enjoys company.”

Arianne glanced back up the hill to where Galen had indicated the Llewellyn estates were located. Had Rhys been allowed to keep his home, his grandmother would undoubtedly be living in the splendor of the manor house instead of that cold stone cottage. She wasn’t certain the old lady would be any happier there, but it seemed criminal to allow a relative of the family to live in such poverty just outside the gates of wealth. How could the present Baron Llewellyn live with the knowledge of what he had done?

Provided he had had any hand in it, which she couldn’t prove at all. Knowing that Rhys was part Romany made what had happened a little clearer. The marriage may have been irregular, a ceremony of the Gypsies rather than in the Church of England. The family would have been horrified at the thought of a Gypsy heir. They could have conspired to keep quiet once the legality of the marriage was questioned. It all made some kind of mad sense. But that didn’t make it any more fair.

As much as Arianne would like to, it wasn’t her place to question Rhys further. The topic quietly dropped and turned to the subject of hunting when a hare burst out of the hedges in front of them. A quiet harmony bound them through the return journey, though Melanie’s determined look caused Arianne occasional uneasiness. She would have to question her cousin when they returned to the house.

But when they arrived, it was to the chaos that three unsupervised little boys could create, and there was no immediate chance to corner her cousin for a private discussion. Rounding up the youngest, who was cheerfully playing with flowerpots in the gardener’s compost pile, Arianne tracked down the other two from their screams of glee. Wondering how she had ever thought that her father might watch the trio for a few hours while her mother napped, she shook her head at her foolishness and nearly walked into Galen as he came around the corner of the greenhouse.

Catching her elbow to steady her, he grabbed the youngest, who seemed prepared to toddle off as soon as his hand was released. Arianne kept a firm hold on the next youngest and gave a warning frown to Davie before he could launch into excited explanations of their adventure into the apple orchard. Galen decided she very much resembled a mother hen at this moment, but he wisely refrained from stating this aloud. As fond as he might be of this reference, he was quite certain that Arianne would prefer to be thought of in other terms.

“They apparently had no notion they were supposed to obey the maid with whom they were placed. I can see we must fetch a dragon from the dungeons to supervise their activities.” Galen sent the eldest lad a stern look, but rather than appear nervous at this threat, Davie grinned and produced a small green apple from his coat pocket for inspection. Obviously, Locke decided, he had not yet perfected an authoritarian image.

“Unless the dragon is prepared to romp about the countryside, I see little hope of success, my lord. Lucinda and I shall have to stay near at hand from henceforth; it is the only solution.” Inwardly Arianne bewailed that fate, but she kept her rebellion hidden. It would be very pleasant to lead her own life for just a little while, but she was aware of the earl’s generosity in allowing this visit, and she would not impose on that generosity any further.

This time Galen’s frown reached his eyes, and the boys looked up at him with some semblance of awe when he turned it on them. “Did you hear that lads? Your sister says you cannot be trusted out of her sight. I should be ashamed to think that is so. Would you be tied to her petticoats forever? Can you not show you are men enough to behave as you ought when she is not around? I shall be very disappointed if I cannot have your sister to myself upon occasion, and when I am disappointed, I do not help selfish little boys find ponies or climb trees.”

Immediate protests pierced the air, resulting in the two older lads dragging the youngest back to the house in a great hurry in search of the maid who was to look after them. Arianne shifted her astonished gaze from her brothers to the man who had sent them on their way, then looked away in embarrassment at the gleam she found in his eyes.

“I think I deserve some reward for that act of deliverance,” Galen noted with satisfaction.

“I think you are more boy than they are,” Arianne responded tartly, unable to conquer the strange feelings of warmth he produced in her. She should be offering gratitude, but she had a decided notion that was what he expected, and that he fully intended to take advantage of it. She didn’t know in what way he would take advantage, but she couldn’t allow any. She was much too confused by her situation to allow any outside interference.

“That is possible, I suppose. There are some who might say I was never allowed to be a child and so must make up for it now. But I see nothing wrong in keeping the child alive inside all of us. The innocence of a child is infinitely preferable to the cynicism of the adult world.”

“Not to mention the responsibilities. I would prefer to play, if I could, but I am old enough to know I must meet my obligations first. I must see that the boys go back where they belong.”

Arianne’s attempt to brush past him was unsuccessful. Galen caught her arm and held her, forcing her to look back at him. The dancing lights in midnight eyes were clear now, but they weren’t playful lights. He suspected a combination of anger and tears produced them, but he wasn’t certain how to resurrect the laughter. Without another thought, he bent to soothe the wounds she kept hidden in the only way he knew how.

The shock of Arianne’s generous lips against his drove all thought of reparations from Galen’s mind.

Chapter Sixteen

The sun heated her uncovered hair, but in no way could that warmth compare with the heat of Lord Locke’s lips as they touched, then closed more forcefully over hers. Arianne gasped, then grasped his strong arms for support as the moment slipped away from them, becoming a natural force over which they had no control. She doubted that she would have stopped him even if she could have had they not been interrupted by a rather loud cough.

Galen regretfully lifted his head, searching her eyes before placing her behind him, away from the intruder, so she might have time to recover herself. He then turned a less-than-pleasant expression upon the man coming around the greenhouse in search of them.

Rhys kept his features aligned in pleasant neutrality as he approached, but a hint of concern darkened his eyes as they strayed in Arianne’s direction. His limp brought him to stand before Locke’s imposing figure, and he showed no apparent regret at intruding.

“I believe the earl is looking for you, Locke. And there is a trio of little heathens raising the nursery roof in their insistence that you promised them a pony ride. I think your mother has threatened to join them shortly in search of you. Perhaps you might make haste back to the house to avert any further turmoil.”

Galen contemplated appropriating Arianne to accompany him, but he could tell by the look of guilt and anguish in her eyes that he had placed her in a compromising position from which he could not immediately extricate her by pretending it did not exist. He did not regret his rashness in persuading her to his wishes, but he would not hurt her if it could be avoided.

Releasing Arianne’s arm, Galen stepped back out of the way. “I will bring the heathens to heel if you will escort Miss Richards back to the house. This holiday is meant for everyone, but she will insist on worrying herself if someone does not take her firmly in hand.”

Rhys nodded curtly and watched as Locke departed, leaving Arianne in his care. He turned a thoughtful gaze to hollowed cheeks brushed with rose and met her confused eyes with a question.

“Shall I wish you well on the excellence of your match with Locke?” he inquired gently.

Arianne crushed her skirt between her fists and fought down the bewilderment threatening to engulf her. The man standing before her was more than she had ever hoped for in a suitor. His intelligence and gentle concern appealed to her better instincts. She knew he had a strength of character as well as mind and body that she could rely on. But despite all that, he was a stranger, much as Lord Locke was a stranger, and neither man had the right to make these demands on her. Forcing her head upward, she met his eyes without hesitation.

“You might consult Galen about that. This is all his idea. Have you mended your fences with Melanie yet?”

Ignoring the reference to Melanie, Rhys replied, “I believe it takes two to make a betrothal. These are not feudal times. There were no promises between us, and I would not stand in your way when the match is so obviously an excellent one for you, but I will admit that my curiosity requires some explanation. I thought Locke and Lady Melanie were to make a match of it. How have things changed so abruptly in a few short weeks?”

Arianne took Mr. Llewellyn’s arm and paced slowly at his side through the darkening gardens. He was so easy to talk to. She felt none of the nervous starts and anxieties she knew around Lord Locke. The pressure of Galen’s lips upon her own still stirred her blood to unreasonable lengths. It was a relief to speak logically. “Melanie rejected Galen’s suit. I do not believe it is as simple as that, but that is the essence of it.”

“So he turned to you in anger? That does not sound like Locke. His regard for you is very obvious.”

“His regard for Melanie is very obvious.” Arianne wished her tone did not sound quite so petulant. To make up for it, she launched into her own theory. “I think Galen wished to make up for the loss of the painting by bringing my mother out here, and this was the only way he could think to do it. If he makes Melanie a tiny bit jealous in the process, then it is all to the point, is it not?”

Rhys regarded the thoughtful oval of her face with fondness. She really was quite handsome with her hair curling softly about her face like that, and her eyes were sufficient to send men to the outer reaches of the earth to please her, were they intelligent enough to look past the fault of poverty and not be intimidated by her strong mind and character. He shook his head with a smile at her innocence.

“No, my dear, it is not. By bringing you here, Locke has irrevocably declared his intentions. You may call if off, if you wish, but as a gentleman, he cannot. That is a little more than is required of a man wishing to make up for the loss of a painting.”

“Oh.” Arianne looked away, uncertain of the rush of feelings his words produced. Looked at from a logical point of view, she could see that Mr. Llewellyn might be right. Still, it only meant that Galen was settling for her instead of the cousin he could not have. That thought was not any more pleasing than being used to replace a painting. “I suppose I shall have to break it off, then, but I don’t know that I can do so immediately. This may be the only chance my mother has to recover her strength. Is that so very terrible of me?”

“That depends on how deeply everyone’s feelings are involved. I know I have been accused of being unfeeling, but I do not think I am so cold as to not see that you are in danger of falling under Locke’s spell. And for all his worldliness, Locke is not a rake. He is a man looking for a wife. Lady Melanie is a wayward chit who undoubtedly dealt a blow to his self-esteem, but whether it was a blow to the heart as well, I cannot say. You tread dangerous waters when you play with people’s hearts.”

That did not sound as if his own heart was involved in any way. Arianne sighed and pulled Melanie’s shawl more tightly around her. “Then I suppose I must call this whole thing off until there has been time for everyone to examine his feelings. I never realized this courtship business could be so dreadfully confusing. I’m not a romantic, like Melanie. I just thought I would one day meet a gentleman whose tastes mirrored mine and we would amicably agree to go through life together.”

“Like you and me?” Rhys asked wryly, against his better judgment.

Arianne threw him a rueful look. “I suppose. We do suit, do we not?”

Rhys halted in the towering shadow of a clipped yew. Catching both her elbows, he turned her to face him. In the twilight her face gleamed with the hues of polished ivory, and he had the mad urge to press his kisses there, upon her cheek. But she was searching for truth and not passion, and he wasn’t certain he could offer her either.

“I suspect we would suit very well. You are accustomed to dealing with a man whose head is not always in the same room as his body. I am as selfish as your father. You would be a great deal of help to me if I am to make my own way in this world. Your name would add prestige to my tarnished one. In return, I can provide for you as well as your father, if not better. I have friends among the aristocracy and relatives who will not disdain me despite my fall from grace, so you will not be lowering yourself in any way. Unfortunately, I cannot bring to you an untarnished name or title, nor even a body perfect in limb and stature, but I am of sound mind and character. I think the match would balance on all points as a fair one. Is this how you would choose a husband?”