Elizabeth Boyle (47 page)

“Grace?” Webb asked, not too sure they were discussing the same woman. If Lily had obvious charms, surely grace couldn’t be one of them. “Why the last time I was at Byrnewood, she nearly ruined that collection of Oriental vases in the salon. Do you remember, Giles?”

Giles smiled. “She kept the potter in town busy for months repairing everything she broke.”

“Well, she’s certainly outgrown those tendencies,” Adam said, in a knowing tone that niggled at Webb’s sensibilities. It was almost too glib, too full of bravado, as if he were posturing, pushing Webb to challenge what he said.

Like a rooster strutting about the yard. A rooster working on his third glass of Giles’s best port.

“Glad to hear it. The family can ill afford the breakage,” Webb said, nonchalantly. He stretched his legs out in front of him and tipped his head to examine the shot his father was lining up on the table.

There was a flash of rakish honor in the man’s eyes. “I would always make amends, sir,” Adam said, “for protecting Lily will be my life’s vow.”

Webb acknowledged this overblown gallantry by refilling the boy’s glass. “And you’ll start your work very soon indeed. And Lily still in her mourning. Yet she consents to marry another. How odd.” Swirling the deep claret liquid in his own glass, he watched it hypnotically dance within its crystal enclosure.

Adam had enough remaining sense to look almost embarrassed. “I think it is to her credit that she still mourns Copeland, and not just her husband, but her father-in-law as well. She’s a credit to their name. Lily would hardly be so scandalous as to be seen in anything else, not until the proper time.” The man crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s why we chose to keep our agreement private … until now, it seems,” he said, stumbling over his own pretensions.

Webb bit back his remark. Proper and Lily in the same breath hardly seemed correct. Lily and scandal, now there was a pair to draw to.

“Now the cat’s out of the bag. But I’d say you’re a cagey one, my friend.” Webb raised his glass to the man and took another drink. “Catching the widow before she sheds her weeds and the rest of us have a chance to see her. Rather risky, wouldn’t you say?”

“Not really sporting, I will admit, but it is the early bird that gets the worm,” Adam said quite defensively. He straightened to his full, lanky height and looked Webb square in the eye. “But if you are implying that I took advantage of my position, I must demand satisfaction.”

“I suppose you would.” Webb held back asking any more questions, allowing the silence to build build between them. “But save the pistols at dawn, I truly meant no offense.”

For a time, the cracking of the billiard balls and the ticking of the timepiece on the mantel were the only sounds in the room.

“Is this your first trip abroad, Adam?” Webb asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “My father used to come every year with Mr. Copeland, for they both had business interests here. That was before he died a few years back. He liked to call it his sabbatical. Well, behind Mother’s back he called it that.” He grinned almost apologetically at this small confession.

Webb smiled back. “And now you are following in your father’s footsteps. Coming to England with a Copeland. A noble endeavor.”

Warming up to his story, Adam continued. “Yes, I suppose it is. In a sense. Once Lily decided to come to England to see to some of her business matters personally, I offered to assist her. Then, naturally, Mother thought it best if she came along as well.”

Webb got up and poured himself another measure of port, holding the decanter out to Adam, who tossed back what remained in his glass and allowed Webb to fill it yet again. “What business matters could a young widow like Mrs. Copeland have here in England that a capable man like yourself couldn’t handle in her place? Especially a man she is marrying?”

Adam stared down at his glass, looking as if he could wish the words back into the silence from which they’d come. His lips narrowed into a tight line and it appeared anything further the man said would be carefully weighed and measured before it was given a public airing.

Damn
, Webb cursed silently. He’d overstepped himself. He glanced over at the billiard table.

His father shot him a look of exasperation.

Webb raised his glass and tipped it in offering, as if to say,
be my guest
.

His father only smiled and continued soundly trouncing Giles.

Webb paced in front of the sofa. “Adam, I respect your silence. You are a prudent man. Even among friends, and you are among friends I assure you, a man must practice reserve,” he said, trying to think of the right approach for regaining Adam’s confidence.

The man gave him a speculative glance before he rose from the sofa and meandered over toward the windows. But not one word would he say.

The man was a good match.

But Webb hadn’t met a man yet that he couldn’t outwit.

Strolling toward Adam, he spied through the window a cloaked figure stalking across the lawn toward the faux Grecian temple the fifth Marquess of Trahern had built.

Even at this distance and in the limited light cast from the illuminated windows of Byrnewood, he had no doubt who the person was, though he could only guess at her intent.

And whatever that was, Webb wanted to make sure he wasn’t too far away from Lily’s as yet unknown plans.

Adam yawned and stretched before he edged past Webb to stand beside the billiard table. “I suppose I should excuse myself and call it a night. The long drive today and that excellent meal, Lord Trahern, have left me quite ready for a good night’s sleep.” He paused for a moment. “But before I venture upstairs, would you mind if I took a stroll around your magnificent garden?”

Giles looked over at Webb who, behind Adam’s back nodded.

“Certainly,” Giles told him. “That door over there leads directly into the wilderness.”

“Wilderness?” Adam said with a laugh. “I have yet to see anything in this ordered land that verges on wilderness.”

Giles laughed. “It is what my great-grandfather, in his ‘ordered’ way thought a wilderness would look like. Actually, by Virginia standards, you will find it quite tame.”

“It sounds perfect,” the man said, bowing to his host and nodding to the other gentlemen in the room. “If you will excuse me.” He opened the door next to the ferocious-looking bear and stepped out into the darkness.

As the door closed, Webb poured himself another drink. “That went fine, I think,” he said, turning back into the room.

Giles laughed. “If you weren’t looking for any information.” He eyed his next shot. “Gads, where does Lily find these self-important fools.”

Webb stared at his friend. “You don’t think for a minute that she means to marry that … that witless boy?”

“Her previous choice wasn’t much better.”

“What do you mean?” Webb asked.

“From what Sophia and I have learned, Thomas Copeland was no prize.” Taking his shot, Giles continued his explanation. “Wealthy enough, good plantation, but he kept with a rough lot, drank heavily, and was known all over the county as a womanizer. The family thought he saw Lily as a way up in the Virginia social circles.”

“Then why on earth did she marry the cad?” Webb knew he shouldn’t care, but he didn’t like the idea of the small, innocent girl he’d once known being introduced to the world by such a loutish man. Then he thought again about why Lily D’Artiers might have chosen Copeland—Sophia and Lily shared a fiery bloodline inherited from their mother’s Ramsey side.

Ramsey women, even by another name, were independent, passionate, and always stubborn.

Webb would bet that more than a fair share of those Ramsey traits had found their way under Lily’s skin. “Never mind. We are discussing your sister-in-law, after all.”

“Exactly.” Giles poured himself a drink, while Lord Dryden studied the table. “All in all, I think everyone was relieved when he stuck his spoon in the wall, though the bastard died just as he lived, embroiled in scandal. He fell off his horse dead drunk, while leaving the establishment of the local madame not two weeks after his marriage to Lily. Broke his neck and left Lily a widow. And when his father died three months later, she inherited everything, for he was the last of his line.”

Webb shuddered. “This Copeland took the easy route out—for sure enough Lily would have snapped his neck if she’d found out where he’d been.”

Giles tipped his drink in agreement.

Having won the game with his last shot, Lord Dryden coughed and called their attention back to the matter at hand. “Well, now that you’ve let Mr. Saint-Jean go, what is your next plan?”

“To do what any good spy does,” Webb replied, heading for the door, “follow him.”

“What took you so long?” Lily whispered as Adam made it up the temple’s steps.

He paused halfway up. “You look as if you belong here, in this setting, a goddess of old sent down to tempt my earthly heart—”

Lily nearly groaned aloud. Adam only resorted to the classics when he’d been drinking too much. “Oh, bother! This is no time for your poetry and gallantries. Where have you been?”

“With your good friend, Webb Dryden. We’ve been sharing a few glasses and he’s been trying to elicit information out of me.”

Lily groaned. “I warned you not to talk to Webb Dryden. And no drinking. Do you hear me? Not with him. The man is dangerous.”

He laughed. “I can handle Webb Dryden. Or anyone else. Why I would defend you from a fierce tribe of—”

“Enough!” She cast a glance in the direction of the house, fighting the urge to go in and ring Webb’s neck for his interference.

“So tell me,” Adam was saying, finishing his progress up the steps and swaying back and forth on his unsteady feet, “why have you suddenly consented to be my wife?”

“I haven’t. It’s just that I needed an excuse … some reason … they wanted me to leave, to, uh, …” she stumbled now for another lie. A lie to tell to the one man who’d always been her friend. So this sorry state was what Webb was bringing her to.

Webb was more like Thomas than she cared to admit.

“To what, my love?”

“To go north, to York. I wouldn’t have been back for weeks, and I couldn’t allow that, now could I?”

“You could go on. I would be more than willing to—”

“Adam, no more of that,” she told him. “You came along with me on the condition that you would follow my orders. Well, my order is that you pose as my betrothed. At least until we return to London.”

“Why not just tell them you had business matters to attend to and that you couldn’t leave. I mentioned it and everyone seemed surprised that you would have any business here in England. Webb especially. You should have just told them the truth, for the man is quite astute.”

She gulped back any barbs as to Webb’s astute observations. He’d already found one chink in her precarious stronghold of lies. She couldn’t afford to let him find an other. Not as long as he was still dismissing her as he had when she was fifteen. She’d seen it in his eyes, and she knew it was the only way to keep him from prying too deeply.

“Adam, it is best if we just continue to pretend—” Lily stopped herself, suddenly sensing they weren’t alone.

Deep in her gut, a nagging choir of caution warned her the peaceful gardens surrounding them were not as empty as they appeared.

Catching Adam by the elbow, she dragged him to the middle of the temple floor, and whispered, “Quietly tell me where Webb was when you left.”

“In the Trophy Room, pouring himself another drink,” he replied. “His father and Lord Trahern were playing billiards.” Adam looked left and right. “I take your question to mean you don’t think we are alone.”

Lily nodded and considered her choices. She knew what she would be doing if she were Webb Dryden—and it wouldn’t have anything to do with another glass of port.

“Put your arms around me,” she told Adam.

He grinned. “Do you think that would be honorable or—”

“Do it!” Lily ordered as firmly and loudly as she dared.

Only too willingly, Adam put his arms around Lily, one arm around her shoulder and the other intimately around her waist. His dark eyes deepened with amusement.

As if to emphasize his role as the besotted lover, he tugged her closer, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“Adam, is this necessary?”

“Depends on your point of view. And I hope our friend’s vantage point lets him see exactly what he’s missing. Though why he would be out here spying on us, I can only guess. Care to enlighten me?”

“He doesn’t believe me. Believe us.” She sighed and looked directly at him. “Believe that we are engaged.”

Adam’s eyes sparkled with challenge. “Let me wipe his doubt away.”

He was about to lower his mouth to hers, but she wasn’t about to let him kiss her again. It only complicated matters. Instead, she laid her head on his chest and hoped they appeared to anyone watching them like a young couple in love.

“Now this isn’t very convincing,” he whispered into her ear.

“Adam, I apologize for the engagement, but it is absolutely necessary. Suffice it to say, we must fool my family, and especially Webb Dryden, or else I will be … well, I’d be sent away on other family obligations that would keep me from our meeting in London.”

She felt him nod his head in understanding.

“When I asked you to come to England with me, I knew there might be complications. This is just one of them.”

“But I could vanquish the devil in a flash. Just let me call him out, why I’ll—”

“You’ll do no such thing. Promise me you won’t do anything to provoke Webb Dryden. Just steer clear of him.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the vaguest shadow moving in the twilight. As she looked closer, she thought it might have been a hint of winter wind moving through the long row of trees lining the path to the temple, for their empty branches swayed ever so softly.

The wind, perhaps, but more than likely, Webb.

Though she couldn’t see him, she’d wager last year’s crop of tobacco that he was somewhere nearby.

“He’s there, just beyond the tree line,” Adam muttered. “What the devil is he doing spying on us?”