Azalea (18 page)

Azalea thought this explanation likely
enough and resumed her "lecture."

In fact, Christian had been less than
candid. He was certainly not bored; he suspected that Miss Clayton
could discuss Greek history without losing his attention. But he
was feeling the oddest sensation of having been here before —of
having heard these same words spoken in that same voice.

Flashes of sunlit fields and apple blossoms
arose in his mind, and suddenly he was reminded of his nightmares.
He realized that Azalea had stopped speaking, and he looked at her
questioningly.

"My lord, I must get back," she said with an
apologetic smile. "I will likely be missed as it is. At any rate,
you have heard most of what I can remember at the moment about
Virginia's best-known stables."

"Very well, Miss Clayton," said Christian
reluctantly. He found he was very much loath to let her go. "I
shall look for you to continue my lessons very soon."

They returned to the horses, where Tom had
finished his repairs, and Christian helped Azalea to remount.
Retaining her hand for a moment, he brushed her gloved fingertips
with his lips. Then, without a word, he swung up into his own
saddle and rode off.

Azalea gazed after him until she suddenly
remembered Tom's presence. Almost guiltily, she removed her hand
from her cheek, where it had unaccountably strayed, and turned
thoughtfully towards the gates.

On re-entering Beauforth House, Azalea was
extremely relieved to encounter neither of her cousins. The details
of her outing would be sure to cause some awkwardness.

If asked directly about her ride, she would
mention the meeting with Lord Glaedon, of course. Otherwise, her
cousins might very well discover it from Tom, or even the Earl
himself, and would think her reticence suspicious. Somehow, though,
she rather doubted that Lord Glaedon would mention it.

Still, she was glad that her resolve to be
truthful was not to be immediately put to the test. Reaching her
bedchamber undetected, Azalea quietly opened the door, only to be
confronted by a reproachful Junie.

"Thank heaven you're back, miss! It's 'most
ten o'clock, and I was near frantic, not knowing where you'd gone
off to! I didn't dare ask anyone, for you know how servants
gossip," she said self-righteously, "but if her ladyship had asked
for you there'd have been the devil to pay, and no mistake."

"Oh, nonsense, Junie." Azalea laughed to
cover her alarm. "I only went riding in the Park to try out my new
mare. Tom accompanied me, so everything was perfectly proper. Cook
knew where I was also. If you had asked him, you could have spared
yourself your mother-hen worrying."

She knew Junie genuinely cared about her,
but it did get tiresome now and again to be treated as though she
were an ignorant child.

"Well, that's all right then, miss," said
Junie, only slightly mollified. "I don't suppose you've breakfasted
yet?"

"No, not really. Could you bring me up a
tray? I'd like to change before going back down."

By the time Junie returned, Azalea was clad
in a fashionable powder blue cambric gown and had taken the pins
from her hair in an attempt to rearrange it. She gratefully allowed
Junie to take over that task, then proceeded to do full justice to
the ample breakfast provided. By now it was nearly eleven o'clock,
and she was scarcely surprised when she was summoned downstairs to
greet a caller.

She entered the parlour to discover Lord
Kayce engaged in desultory conversation with her cousins. The sight
of her uncle immediately recalled to her mind her earlier
suspicions about the saddle, but in retrospect, she decided they
were rather absurd.

Upon Azalea's entrance, Lady Beauforth
immediately made excuses to both Azalea and her uncle, saying that
she and Marilyn were expected at Madame Clarisse's shop, where they
were to meet Lady Silverton and her two daughters. Without giving
her own daughter a chance to speak, she bustled her out the door,
leaving Azalea alone with Lord Kayce.

"It is good to see you again, my lord,"
Azalea said cautiously.

"The pleasure is entirely mine, my dear, I
assure you. And have you forgotten so soon that I am to be Uncle
Simon?" He was dressed as elegantly as before, his exquisitely
tailored maroon jacket opening over a matching waistcoat richly
embroidered with silver. "Now that I am officially your guardian, I
thought a personal visit in order."

"Is it completely settled then, Uncle
Simon?" asked Azalea, surprised that she had not heard from Mr.
Timmons.

"But for a few legal formalities." He airily
waved those aside. "I came to assure you that I have all well in
hand regarding your future."

"My—my future?" asked Azalea.

"Certainly. As my ward, your future is my
concern, and I did not wish you to spend a moment worrying your
pretty head over it."

Lord Kayce was smiling benignly, almost
smugly, Azalea thought, and her uneasiness grew.

"I am to remain in this house for the
present, am I not, Uncle?"

"Of course," he replied reassuringly, having
apparently noticed her anxiety in spite of her effort to conceal
it. Her uncle was far more astute than his man of business, Azalea
realized.

"It would be inappropriate for you to reside
with me, unless a suitable female companion could be found for
you," he continued, "and, as Lady Beauforth is willing to house you
and act as chaperon, the need does not arise. However, I would like
to ask a favour of you while we are on that subject."

"Yes?" Her most immediate concern had been
allayed, but she still did not wholly trust him. Was he going to
ask her again to sign those documents? How could she refuse a
second time?

"I shall be having a small dinner party
Friday evening and I would be honoured if you would consent to act
as hostess. I am anxious to show off my new-found niece to a few of
my oldest friends. Will you be so kind as to do this for me?"

"Of course, Uncle Simon, I would be
delighted to." Azalea was relieved by this apparently innocent
request after what she had feared. "What time shall I be
ready?"

"I'll send a carriage for you at
seven-thirty," said Lord Kayce with barely concealed satisfaction.
"Are you happy with the mount I purchased for you?" he asked then,
neatly changing the subject before she could question him
further.

"Oh, she's marvellous," exclaimed Azalea.
"Did not your Mr. Greely convey my thanks? I rode her this morning,
and her paces are like silk, though her manners are just the
slightest bit rough, I fear. We nearly had a mishap. But I have no
doubt she will improve with training." She couldn't quite bring
herself to mention the saddle, though she watched him closely as
she spoke.

"Indeed! My apologies, in that case. I
assure you she came highly recommended." Was it her imagination, or
did she detect a certain wariness in his expression?

"No apology necessary, Uncle Simon, I assure
you. She's a splendid animal, really."

He smiled thinly. "I am happy that she
pleases you. And now, I really must be going. I'll see you a few
days hence." Lord Kayce rose smoothly, executed a graceful half bow
and departed.

Perhaps he really did mean well, she thought
hopefully after he was gone. Still, she would call on Mr. Timmons
in a few days if she had not heard from him, to see whether Mr.
Greely had indeed brought him those documents.

* * *

A little over an hour later Lady Beauforth
and Marilyn returned, accompanied by Jonathan Plummer, who, Marilyn
said, they had encountered upon leaving Madame Clarisse's shop.
Naturally, they had invited him for nuncheon, knowing what a good
friend of Azalea's he was.

Watching Marilyn's rapt expression when she
looked at Jonathan, Azalea doubted whether this last consideration
had actually carried much weight, but she was happy to see her old
playmate in any event. She carefully observed both his behaviour
and Marilyn's, and was able to conclude that her hopes in that
direction were not completely unfounded. There was obviously a fair
degree of attraction on both sides.

Nuncheon was a lively meal, with Jonathan
and Lady Beauforth carrying the bulk of the conversation, though by
no means excluding the others. As before, Azalea noticed that
Marilyn's speech was far less affected when she spoke to
Jonathan.

Between anecdotes, Azalea managed to relate
Lord Kayce's invitation. Jonathan's look of concern reminded her of
his earlier cautions, and after the meal she again contrived to
have a brief moment alone with him.

"I fear you may have been quite right about
my uncle," she told him without preamble as they lingered in the
dining-room after her cousins had proceeded to the parlour. "He
seems uncommonly anxious to be made my guardian, and now I have
reason to suspect he may actually wish me ill." She related the
story of that morning's mishap, omitting, however, any mention of
Lord Glaedon.

Jonathan nodded grimly. "You never were
anyone's fool, 'Zalea," he said. "You look so much like the other
London belles now, I had dashed near forgotten how sharp you can
be. Just as well you are, though, with the likes of Kayce to deal
with."

"I'm beginning to realize that. I'll be
careful, though, I promise you. Should I refuse his invitation to
dinner, do you think?"

Jonathan thought for a moment. "No, it
should be all right. He'll hardly try to harm you in front of a
crowd, and it will be well known to your cousins that you are in
his company. My advice is to play along —for now— but to keep your
eyes open."

"That's precisely what I had intended to
do," she agreed.

Lady Beauforth called to them from the
parlour then, querying about their tardiness.

"Don't forget, 'Zalea —if you need a friend,
I'm always here," Jonathan whispered hastily as he turned towards
the door. "At least until summer."

"Thank you, Jonathan. I'll remember."

But with Jonathan's cautions added to her
original suspicions, she was beginning to suspect that she would
need more than a friend, or even a lawyer, to deal with Lord
Kayce.

She would need a husband.

* * *

CHAPTER 10

The next morning Azalea again rose early.
She had decided to make a regular habit of riding before breakfast,
for she could tell that even in the few weeks she'd been living in
London, her physical condition had deteriorated. In spite of her
soreness yesterday, she had more of the energy she had always taken
for granted back in Virginia.

She would not admit to herself that the hope
of seeing Lord Glaedon played any part in this virtuous resolution.
Still, she could not suppress the feeling that had buoyed her since
yesterday morning. Surely he had shown something beyond simple
courtesy towards her. What that was exactly, she didn't quite dare
to speculate —not yet.

Her sore backside distracted her for most of
the brief ride to the park, but as she neared the entrance, she
finally allowed herself to consciously wonder whether Lord Glaedon
would be there. Before she could summon the willpower to banish the
fearful, hopeful, question, it was answered. He was waiting just
outside the gates. If she had any doubts about whether he was
expecting her, they were erased at once by his cheerful wave, along
with his greeting.

"Miss Clayton! I was hoping you intended to
repeat your morning ride, though I must admit I rather feared you
would be too sore to do so." He grinned as she attempted to find a
position in the saddle that would cause her less discomfort. "You
have a new saddle, I see."

"Yes. I
am
a bit stiff, as you are obviously
aware —and I think it most ungallant of you to mention it, my lord.
But after being deprived of riding for so long, it would take more
than a passing ache to keep me from it." She returned his grin,
both delighted and relieved to find him not only present, but still
amiably disposed towards her.

"I was counting on that, actually," he said.
"I propose a brief trot this morning, followed by a lengthier
stroll. That should set you up admirably and relieve your, ah,
stiffness somewhat."

Azalea knew he was teasing her for
downplaying her soreness, but found that she really didn't mind.
"Very well, my lord," she said crisply, to conceal her conflicting
emotions, and immediately sent Ginny into a brisk trot.

Lord Glaedon kept pace with her on his
beautiful black and they rode, as yesterday, in silence for a few
minutes. Before the horses could become winded, the Earl pulled up
and motioned for Azalea to do the same.

"I said brief, and I meant it," he explained
to her questioning look. "Trust me. You still have the ride back,
and I wouldn't wish you to be unable to dance at Lady Sunham's rout
tonight."

"And how did you know—" Azalea stopped when
she saw the amusement in his face. Of course he would have been
invited. There were so few entertainments at this time of year that
Lady Beauforth could not bear to forgo any of them —as he well
knew. And he had told her to trust him. Did he mean more by that
than it appeared?

"Thank you for your consideration, my lord,"
she concluded with a false sweetness that she sincerely hoped did
not deceive him.

He pointedly ignored her comment and helped
her to dismount. At the touch of his hand on hers, a tingle went
through her. She could not bring herself to meet his eyes, so she
had no idea whether he was likewise affected.

As her feet touched the ground, Azalea
realized that even that very brief ride had affected her insulted
muscles more than she would have believed —though she was careful
not to let her expression betray as much to her companion. He
seemed to read her thoughts, however, and pointedly accepted her
thanks with a maddening "I-told-you-so" air.