Artful Deceptions (26 page)

“Whatever gave you such a thought?” Melanie asked sharply. “He is naught but a friend, a very annoying friend, at the moment. I think he has been too much around Evan, if you must know. He is most...” She struggled for an appropriate phrase.

“Annoying,” Galen supplied with a smile. “Brothers are like that. But it is good to know that you think of us all as brothers and that you will come flying to all our rescues when the need demands. Which brings us back to the topic at hand. I need your help in securing a wife. The one I want is sitting next to you, but she is being most ... annoying.”

Arianne couldn’t help the quick upward twist of her mouth at Galen’s suggestive tone. She knew if she caught his eye she would start laughing, and he needed no further encouragement. So she gazed resolutely over the fields ahead, denying his plea.

Melanie gave her cousin a quick look, finding nothing in her countenance to explain or protest Galen’s complaint. Deciding she was being the brunt of one of his jests again, she donned an aggrieved expression. “You make light of everything, Galen. It is most unfair of you. Wouldn’t you be much happier back there with Rhys, dealing with men’s problems? We are quite old enough not to need a nanny to see us home.”

“A nanny! Now I am not only a brother, but a nanny. I truly ought to leave you to yourself for that. You have damaged my male pride, you ungrateful little hoyden. I can only hope you have not irretrievably ruined my position in your fair cousin’s eyes. I shall hold you responsible if she calls off our betrothal.”

Arianne heard full well the laughter in Galen’s voice, but the banter seemed inappropriate after this morning’s events. When Melanie came after him with another gibe, she intruded. “Will the two of you stop it? You may tear each other apart tooth and claw when I am not here, but I would be most appreciative of a little sensible conversation right now.”

That silenced them briefly, until Melanie inquired softly, “Would you rather I sat and cried?”

Chapter Twenty-one

By the time they returned to the Deward estate, Arianne had taken over the reins and Melanie had dissolved into teary oblivion after spilling out the whole argument that had taken place that morning.

The confession had even managed to take the laughter out of Galen’s eyes, Arianne decided as she followed his instructions in bringing the phaeton up the drive. Only a fool in love would send a rich prize like Melanie away because he could not offer her all the advantages which her position demanded. Arianne was quite glad she had been out of range of that argument. Rhys was undoubtedly right and acting sensibly, but Melanie’s heartbroken sobs did not seem to make being right a thing to be desired.

But now that it was obvious that Melanie and Rhys were madly, however wrongly, in love, the relationship between Galen and Arianne changed, and they both sensed it. They had gone into this betrothal on the basis of pleasing Arianne’s father and helping her mother, but they had both been aware that there were other alternatives. Those alternatives had suddenly evaporated, and they were left with each other or nothing.

Galen’s hand closed around Arianne’s as he helped her from the carriage, and his look was searching as she came to stand beside him. There was nothing she could say to relieve the strain. It no longer seemed sensible to marry a man out of respect and friendship, particularly if that man was in love with her cousin and best friend. And she could no longer throw Melanie up to Lord Locke as the preferable woman for his wife. Even she could see that Melanie would be miserably unhappy with any man other than Rhys.

The world wasn’t a simple place, and life did not always go as one planned. Sadly Arianne pressed Galen’s palm and let it go. She had to smuggle Melanie up to their bedroom without being condemned to an interrogation by everyone waiting in the house. There wasn’t time to determine where they stood in relation to each other right now.

Gordon was already striding toward them, and two of Arianne’s brothers were emerging from the shrubbery with Indian war whoops. Any moment now, chaos would ensue. Arianne offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile and turned to guide Melanie past the shoals of disaster.

Diverting Gordon with a tale of cinders in his sister’s eye and sending her brothers chasing off in search of Puddles, Arianne steered Melanie to the safety of their shared chamber. Galen remained behind to catch Gordon’s questioning demands.

“I take it this was not a pleasure outing,” Gordon said, confronting his old friend. “Where has Rhys got to? It is near time for tea and no one seems to know where the lot of you have been.”

“Arianne and I seem to be at odds,” Galen responded lightly, “and Melanie was lending us countenance. Rhys struck off to visit the baron. The earth may shake and the mountains crumble ere this day ends. Come along and help me find some nourishment before my mother presses little tea cakes on me. And while you’re at it, tell me the key to your cousin’s cold heart. She cannot be as obstinate as she seems.”

Distracted by this tissue of evasions, Gordon fell into step with Locke as they returned to the house. “I thought you had already discovered the key to her heart, her family. By bringing them here, you have surely endeared yourself to her for all time. Everyone seems to assume you have all but set the date. What argument can she possibly have against you?”

“I rather believe your practical cousin has succumbed to Melanie’s romantic tales. She thinks I do not love her. I don’t understand what women want us to do to prove ourselves. Shall I slay a dragon for her?” Galen’s tone was almost wistful as he contemplated this part of his problem.

“Evan would be a better person to ask than I. Perhaps if you found that infernal painting they were raving about ...”

At the approach of Arianne’s father, Galen threw back his head and laughed at Gordon’s innocent suggestion. “The painting has been found, and that is even a sorrier tale yet. Mr. Richards, how do you do? I trust you have been adequately entertained this day?” He slipped into his role of host without effort, leaving Gordon to give him a worried look but effectively ending the topic.

* * * *

“My baby is so well-behaved; you have trained him wonderfully, Galen.” The countess lifted the newly washed and brushed animal into her lap, petting and crooning over the contented dog as if it truly were a child.

“Obviously he had needs that weren’t being answered, Mother. I think I can vouch for his behavior in the future.” Galen’s eyes gleamed as they fell on Arianne’s expression. She was holding back a smile, he could sense it, but she would have great difficulty explaining her laughter in present company. Maliciously he egged her on. “If only Arianne would vouch for mine.”

He watched her furious blush with delight. She was doing her very best to cling to the obedient behavior expected of her, but Galen had tasted the passion in her kiss, and he was beginning to learn the rebellious byways of her mind. He could easily spend a lifetime delving into the fascinating nature of one Miss Arianne Richards. If only he could pry her away from her sense of duty and her confounded logic.

His mother gave him a sharp look, not entirely deceived by her son’s innocent expression. “I should think you old enough to be responsible for your own behavior. A lady is in no position to correct her husband.”

Wild joy swept through Galen as the laughter erupted in Arianne’s eyes and she had to turn away to keep from smiling. He wanted to see her laughing all the time. He wanted to dance with her. He wanted to pick flowers and cover her with rose petals.

It was insane what she was doing to him, this modest little wren he had plucked from her nest. But he could not call her a wren anymore. The plumage his mother was providing proved she was an elegant swan after all. He had scarcely been able to take his gaze from her all through dinner. How could the foolish creature think she was not the most desirable woman in all of England? How was he going to prove to her that she was everything she should be, and more?

“Let us have music, Mother. Do you know, I have not once had the opportunity to dance with my intended? Gordon, you must lead Melanie out on the floor, and Arianne and I shall complete the set.” He strode forward to grasp Arianne’s fingers before she could wriggle away.

“I cannot,” she whispered, horrified, as the countess sat down at the piano. “I have not danced since Melanie put a spider down the back of that odious dancing instructor. Do not do this to me, Galen, I beg of you.”

“I’ll hear more of that tale at some other time. There is nothing you can do to persuade me out of this, my love. I have the strongest urge to dance with you.”

The husky murmur of Galen’s voice against her ear spoke of more sensuous urges than that, and Arianne clung to his coat sleeve out of desperation as the music started and he led her out onto the carpet. It was much better that he amuse himself in here, in full view of both families, than to give in to those other urges they had both displayed earlier this day.

Or she thought it was better.
As the music progressed and she found herself more and more frequently in Galen’s arms, the innocent dance seemed to take on hidden meanings. The possessive hold on her waist, the warm grasp of his hand, the occasional caress of his coat against her skin as they maneuvered through the figures in this limited space, all served to undermine her feeling of security.

Arianne wasn’t certain whether to be relieved or sorry when the knock on the door below distracted the attention of several of the room’s occupants. The music continued playing, but Melanie no longer seemed to be attending. She had been on edge all evening, and she stumbled now in Gordon’s arms, stopping without explanation as the sound of voices carried up the stairs. Gordon looked at her with curiosity, then followed the sounds of the voices too. Even Arianne’s mother appeared enticed by the intrusion, although her father and the earl were too engrossed in some esoteric discussion of their own to pay attention to their surroundings.

Galen didn’t appear to be the least bit interested in the newcomers. As long as the music continued, he was prepared to hold Arianne in his arms, but it became a trifle difficult to complete the set without the participation of their partners. He gave Gordon a look of annoyance and would have turned to his mother to demand a waltz had not Melanie suddenly given a small cry of recognition and run for the door.

That effectively ended the interlude. With a wry twist of his lips, Galen gazed down at Arianne. “Do we follow or let her tear into our guests alone?”

“She is too well-brought-up to be rude. But I daresay since you have invited them, you must welcome them. Have you ordered their rooms prepared?”

“What a wifely thing for you to say, my love. I do think I could get the hang of this business quite easily. Speak to my mother, will you? And I shall lead the prodigals to safety.”

Arianne considered punching him, but their audience was too great. She didn’t know at what point they had become intimate enough to exchange such gibes with this ease; she only knew she no longer felt the discomfort of strangeness when Galen was about. It was an odd sensation, this give-and-take between man and woman. She had never experienced it before and wondered if it were not a natural development of being in company.

Even as she thought it, Rhys and Gordon rose to mind, and she knew that was not so. Even though Gordon was her cousin, she could not jest and laugh with him as she did with Galen. And although she had once thought Rhys suitable for her husband, she knew instinctively she would not find the same lightness in his arms as she did in Galen’s. There was a difference, but she could not put her finger on it.

She went to inform the countess of Galen’s impromptu invitation to the Llewellyns, and a maid was summoned to air and freshen a room for the baron. Gordon had joined Galen in going down to greet the guests, but the remainder of the room’s occupants turned to Arianne for explanations.

Nothing she could say seemed right, so she diverted their questions with a description of the baron’s imposing home. The earl obviously thought she had lost her wits, but the women seemed to understand, and they turned impatiently to satisfy their curiosity in the appearance of the guests.

Some of the baron’s coloring had returned after his ride down the mountainside, but he still appeared old and tired and rather confused. Arianne glanced anxiously to Rhys, but despite his weariness, his whole being seemed focused on Melanie, who was flirting broadly with Galen and ignoring him. Arianne gave her betrothed a scathing look, but he merely winked in return and introduced the baron to his company.

The earl and Owen Llewellyn greeted each other gruffly, with the restraint of two men who knew each other well but didn’t get along. Arianne’s father greeted the baron with the same amiability that he met everyone, but with none of the enthusiasm with which a long-lost friend would be met. Llewellyn shook their hands, then turned to find Rhys.

His nephew stepped forward with the same pride he had carried with him when garbed in frayed coats and stained with the ink of his trade. Tonight, though, he wore a navy long-tailed coat with fabric so stiff it could never have been washed before. The fit was not precise and the style was not that of London, and Arianne very much suspected it had been lovingly constructed by his grandmother, but it hid the worn spots on his linen and added veracity to the declaration that followed. Topped by a starched white cravat from his uncle’s wardrobe, his attire told the tale before the baron spoke
.

“Deward, I want you to be the first to know that we’ve found evidence that should restore Rhys’s estate and title. I’m surrendering all claim in his favor, as I told the boy I would do whenever he was ready. We’ve had words between us, I’ll admit, but he’s always been David’s heir to me. But now we have proof for a court of law.”

Owen’s declaration was a little shaky, his carriage not what it should have been as he leaned against a chair back, but the words were out and could not be taken back. He straightened sufficiently to pat Rhys’s back and propel him into the room.