Candice Hern (20 page)

"Now," he said, "keep this elbow parallel to the ground, not poking stupidly up into the air like Havering told you."

"Nonsense," Havering called out. "The draw arm must be held as high as possible."

Sherwood laughed. "Don't listen to him, Clarrie. He doesn't know what he's talking about. Keep the elbow level with the ground. Yes, that's right. Perfect." He stepped back. "Now, pretend the three fingers holding the bowstring are sewn together. When you uncurl them to release the bow, they must move as one. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Release."

She let go and the bowstring thwacked against her arm guard. The arrow whistled through the air and hit the target with a thunk. Clarissa gave a squeal of delight and bounced on the balls of her feet. "I did it!"

"Indeed you did," Sherwood said, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "Well done, Clarrie."

She beamed with delight, and cast a triumphant smile at Lord Havering.

"You had better keep an eye on her."

Rochdale. How long had he been standing there?
"One of those boys is liable to steal her away from you." He lifted his eyebrows and grinned. "Or are you perhaps hoping one of them actually will?"

Adam ignored him to watch as Miss Stillman and the Dowager Duchess of Hertford took their turns shooting, with help from Sir George Lowestoft and Lord Ingleby. And then it was Marianne's turn. Sherwood lost no time in rushing to her aid. In contrast with the solicitous way he'd instructed Clarissa, he pressed himself up close against Marianne and took his time about aligning her stance. There was more than archery instruction going on between them.

"Let's go back to the house and have a game of billiards." Rochdale tugged on Adam's sleeve. "Come on, old boy, let's go. I do not trust you not to make a fool of yourself if you continue to watch that performance."

He wasn't going to make a fool of himself, but Adam had no desire to see Marianne in that fellow's arms. A man who apparently did not even know how to kiss her properly. God only knew what sort of experience he would give her between the sheets. "A good idea," he said. "Let's go."

The two of them turned away from the archers and trod up the little hill that would take them back to the house.

"So you are forced to watch this love affair at close quarters."

"Closer even than you can imagine," Adam said. "I was given the room next to hers."

"Good God."

"It appears that she was given pride of place. Her room — I am told, I haven't seen it — is quite grand. Fit for a duchess. Mine, I fear, is much smaller. I suspect it was the dressing room, converted to a bedchamber for the house party." There was even a connecting door between their rooms, which was more temptation than Adam liked.

"Marianne is the queen of the party," he continued. "I am merely a humble servant in the queen's court, sleeping in the dressing room. Still, it is closer than I would wish."

"Are the walls thin? Did you have to listen to her cry out last night?"

"No, Sherwood was occupied with late arrivals and nothing happened between them." It had been the only consolation so far in this wretched gathering. Adam wondered if there might not be some other duty that called Sherwood away tonight, and the night after that, and throughout the rest of the week.

"But tonight?"

Adam groaned. "Yes, I suppose it will happen tonight, damn it all."

"You cannot stop it, Cazenove. Don't do anything foolish. What you need is another woman to distract you. Amelia Forrester is said to be an obliging sort. A bit of sport in her bed would take your mind off Marianne's bed."

"You forget that my bride-to-be and her parents are here. Her father would likely call me out if he discovered I was frolicking with another woman while under the same roof with Clarissa. Her mother would surely do so, and that one would aim to kill."

"Then take the chit to bed. And don't use the dragon mother as an excuse. What could she do about it, anyway? You're already betrothed to the girl."

"I have considered it, believe me." He had thought of little else after his encounter with Marianne the day before had shot a bolt of fire straight through his vitals. He'd been on edge ever since. He would like nothing better than to bury himself in Clarissa's innocent white flesh and forget about Marianne. "I just don't believe Clarissa is ready to anticipate the wedding night. I fear I am doomed to my lonely bed this week."

"Suit yourself," Rochdale said. "It appears you will have your hands full with that bride of yours anyway, even if she doesn't allow you in her bed. She has developed quite a court of admirers."

"She is simply enjoying herself. She would never do anything improper, especially not with her parents here."

They reached the top of the hill and Adam turned back toward the archery field. Lord Julian Sherwood was setting up Marianne for the next shot by wrapping himself around her once again. Adam turned away.

"I hate country house parties," he said.

* * *

"What a marvelous activity archery is," Penelope said. "I had no idea how provocative a sport it could be. How clever of Lord Julian to suggest it."

Wilhelmina, Grace, Penelope, and Marianne walked together on their way back to the house. Marianne was glad the guests had not paired off in couples for once. She had had little opportunity to speak with her friends in private since their arrival at Ossing.

"One cannot help but notice his marked attentions, Marianne," the duchess said. "He certainly took every opportunity to put his arms around you."

"Yes, I know," she said. "I confess it was a tad embarrassing. He was so much more circumspect with the other ladies. I fear he is making no secret of his intentions."

"Not to mention," Penelope said, "that you were given the best bedchamber."

"I scolded him about that," Marianne said. "It should have gone to Wilhelmina, as the highest ranking guest. But he only laughed and said it was his house and he could assign rooms however he wanted."

"My room is perfectly fine," the duchess said. "You need not have scolded on my account."

"But it is an obvious breach of etiquette that will not go unnoticed," Grace said. "Have a care, Marianne. You may find yourself the object of gossip."

"Bosh," Penelope said. "The oh-so-proper Lady Presteign would never allow a scandal on her watch."

Marianne's gaze strayed to the lady in question, who walked arm-in-arm with her friend, Lady Troutbeck. Julian's sister was indeed a high stickler. She was the daughter of a duke and the widow of a marquess, so it would be more surprising if she was not.

"I must confess," Marianne said, "that her reception of me was cool at best."

"She will know that this party was arranged on your behalf," Wilhelmina said.

"And no doubt she disapproves of the room assignments," Penelope added.

"I suspect she disapproves of the whole party," Grace said. "She will surely be aware that certain bedchambers will not be slept in. Mr. Tolliver's, for instance." She darted a glance at Penelope, who grinned. "Or that horrid Lord Rochdale. I cannot imagine why he was invited."

"I believe Julian knew that Adam, who must be invited on Clarissa's behalf, would have no particular friend among the other gentlemen guests," Marianne said. "His invitation for Lord Rochdale was a kindness to Adam. Lord Julian is an excellent host in that respect. He made sure everyone had at least one friend in attendance so that no one would feel alone or left out. The Troutbecks are particular friends of Lady Presteign, Miss Stillman is Clarissa's bosom bow, and Mrs. Forrester was no doubt included for her sister, Lady Drake."

"I notice Rochdale is already sniffing about Lady Drake's skirts," Penelope said.

"Is it any wonder Lady Presteign disapproves of such a party?" Grace said, her mouth twisted in distaste.

"But my dear," Wilhelmina said, "that is the whole point of a house party. It provides a somewhat less public stage for seduction than a Society ball in London."

"And the best part of all," Penelope said, "is that Eustace and I get to spend entire nights together without him having to sneak away before dawn. It was perfectly lovely to fall asleep in his arms last night."

She looked so wistful that Marianne wondered if she had fallen in love with Mr. Tolliver after all.

Wilhelmina gave Penelope an indulgent smile. "Quite so," she said. "But you were not so fortunate, I think, Marianne."

"No. Lord Julian had obligations last night."

"Then tonight will be your night," the duchess said. "How exciting for you."

Penelope put an arm around Marianne's shoulder and gave an affectionate squeeze. "It
will
be exciting, I promise you."

"I hope so," Marianne said. "I confess I have been feeling rather anxious about it." Especially after Julian had stolen another kiss that morning. It had been as rough and passionate as the first, and Marianne had done her best to relax and enjoy it. But there had been no shivers, no flutterings in her stomach. She wished he could have been a bit more gentle, but no doubt that only spoke of her lack of sophistication in these matters. She should not expect to be wooed and gently persuaded like a virgin.

"It is your first time, so to speak," Wilhelmina said, "so a bit of nerves is understandable. But you must try to relax when the time comes. I am certain Lord Julian will know how to put you at ease. You will enjoy it more if you are not so tense."

"That is what Adam says, too."

Grace looked aghast. "Surely you do not speak of such things with Mr. Cazenove."

"He is a close friend, Grace."

"It is one thing to speak frankly with other women about such intimate matters, but with a
man
? Heavens, Marianne, that does not seem at all proper."

"I suppose it does sound odd," Marianne said, "but we are really very close, you know. I feel quite comfortable talking to him about anything." There was, however, a slight edge to that comfort of late. She wondered if they would ever be completely comfortable again together, after that kiss. It would certainly help matters if he would stop touching her in ways that made her tingle all over.

"And you do not worry he will gossip about you at the clubs?" Grace asked. "In his cups, he could reveal all your secrets, and soon your name would be bandied about town as a woman of indiscretion."

"I trust Adam more than any person on earth," Marianne said. "He would never be so careless with something I'd told him in confidence. He is far too honorable to jeopardize our friendship in such a way. He is the finest man I know."

"My goodness, Marianne," Penelope said, "it sounds as though you have a tendre for him. He is a very attractive man. What a pity he is engaged to that giggling little chit."

"It is indeed a pity," Marianne said. "I cannot imagine anyone more unsuitable for him."

"You
do
have a tendre for him," Penelope exclaimed.

"No, it is nothing like that. We have been friends for years, that is all, and I do have a great affection for him." She gave a rueful laugh. "I remember when I was first introduced to him, when he came down from Oxford with David for a visit. I thought him quite the most dashing man I'd ever met. Handsome, charming, and with a smile that could make a young girl weak in the knees."

"And older girls, too," Penelope said.

"David whispered to me that his friend was a bit wild," Marianne said, "and that only increased his attractiveness to the innocent girl I was. But that was a long time ago. Now when I look at him I see only a good friend, not a dashing hero."

There had been a time, though, when she had been infatuated with those seductive green eyes and that rakish long hair. Even though Marianne had loved David, for a short while before her marriage she had been a bit
in
love with Adam. She never let on, of course. How could she? And over time she had forgotten that foolish infatuation entirely as she fell more deeply in love with David.

But in the last few weeks she had come to realize that her attraction to him had never really disappeared. It had always been there, buried beneath layers of propriety and sensibility, and the everyday reality of a good and happy marriage to someone else. It was still there. She was still a little bit infatuated with Adam. It had taken his betrothal to another woman to unearth those old feelings, and one stolen kiss to set them churning in her heart again.

But he was promised to another, and so once again she must keep her fantasies in check.

"His betrothal is indeed unfortunate," Wilhelmina said. "Cazenove would have been a good lover for you."

"He has never been interested in me in that way," Marianne said, with a dismissive wave that she hoped belied the deep longing she felt at Wilhelmina's words. "I am not his type."

The duchess lifted a skeptical brow.

"Besides, I have Lord Julian now. That is, if I do not drive myself into a state of collapse from anxiety. Were you this nervous, Penelope, the first time with your young Scot?"

Penelope laughed. "Me, nervous? Surely you jest. No, I was so attracted to him, so aroused by the very sight of him, that the only anxiety I felt was over how quickly we could manage an opportunity to act."

"Try not to work yourself up into such a lather," Wilhelmina said to Marianne. "If Lord Julian is half the man I think him, he will have your body singing to his tune in no time, and put you entirely at ease before you know what's happening."

"And the next morning, you must tell us all about it," Penelope said. "Oh, stop groaning, Grace. That was our agreement.
I
have certainly told all."

"Indeed you have," Grace muttered beneath her breath.

"It is too bad Beatrice cannot be here to share in the tale," Penelope said. "By the way, am I the only one who noticed how little it disappointed her to have to decline the invitation to Ossing?"

"She could hardly skip the Wallingford ball," Grace said. "Lady Wallingford is Emily's aunt on her father's side. Emily will be expected to attend, and Beatrice, too, in her sister's stead. Besides, she could not have come here without her two girls, and she would never have left them alone just for the sake of a short house party."