How to Beguile a Beauty (22 page)

He didn't consider himself to be on a par with a Bow Street Runner, but he did have some powers of observation. Jasmine was right-handed. If she were to touch
her face in response to his question, she should have raised her right hand, to her right cheek. But she'd raised her left hand, to her left cheek. “Are you wearing powder?”

“I most certainly am not wearing—” She looked at her gloved hand as she took it away from her cheek, and saw the powder that had transferred to the leather, leaving a faint outline of her fingers on her reddened skin…rather as if she'd just slapped herself. “Oh! Oh, I
hate
you!”

“Rice powder and raindrops don't do well together, do they?” Justin said, handing Jasmine a handkerchief he'd slipped from his waistcoat. “But shame on you, Tanner. I was fully prepared to sit here for the time it takes us to slog through the countryside to your ancestral home without ever once mentioning that Jasmine's face had begun to, well,
run
. That's the sign of the true gentleman, you know. There are many others. Should I write them down for you?”

Jasmine sobbed into the handkerchief, which wasn't affecting Tanner as she probably supposed it should. He looked to Lydia, whose blue eyes were twinkling in humor at the way Justin had been teasing him. Well, wasn't it lovely that they were both so amused. He'd like to be amused, too, but Jasmine was difficult to ignore, for he knew her tears could soon escalate to a full-out bout of hysterics. Lord knew he'd witnessed enough of them over the years. “Do
you
know what the devil's going on here?”

“I do, yes. Jasmine told me she tripped over the hem
of her dressing gown last night, and her cheek collided with…the doorjamb. But we concluded that she hadn't broken anything.”

“The doorjamb is intact? How wonderful.”

“Justin,” Tanner growled, “don't help. Jasmine, are you sure you're all right? You should have told me. We could have remained at the inn another day, until you'd recovered, even brought in a doctor to check on you. Is the cheek very painful? It looks swollen, too, now that I can really see it.”

“It's horribly painful,” Jasmine said, sniffling. “And now you're telling me that I'm
ugly
. How could Papa think I should want to marry you?”

Once again Tanner looked to Lydia, mutely appealing for help while at the same time mulling the idea that riding atop the coach, even in this downpour, would be preferable to listening to Jasmine.

Lydia leaned close to Jasmine, cupped a hand beside her mouth, and whispered something in Jasmine's ear. His cousin's eyes went wide, then very narrow, as she jerked her head away, glared at Lydia.

Lydia crooked her finger so that Jasmine came closer, whereupon Lydia whispered in her ear again, and when Jasmine turned to her, her mouth a small O of shock, Lydia nodded her head a single time.

Jasmine nodded back, as if the two of them had come to some sort of agreement—one that suited Lydia much more than it did his cousin.

“She'll be fine now,” Lydia announced placidly, sitting forward once more and folding her hands de
murely in her lap, the very picture of ladylike calm. “Won't you, Jasmine?”

As if to prove Lydia's words, his cousin immediately smiled brightly, apologized very prettily to everyone for “being such a goose,” and then declared that she would close her eyes now and hope to sleep for the remainder of the journey, as she had spent a restless night.

At which point Lydia once again rolled her eyes. Tanner saw the reaction because he'd been looking at her, and not at Jasmine.

And then, just as she had asked Justin to please carve her a slice of beef last evening after Flynn had been routed from the private dining room, she turned her attention back to that man to politely press him to tell her all about Wigglesworth and Brutus.

Clearly, as the subject of Flynn had been dismissed, the subject of Jasmine's bruised cheek was now being dismissed.

Which didn't mean Tanner wasn't going to open that subject again later, when they arrived at Malvern…

A
WATERY SUN BROKE
through the low, overhanging clouds just as the coaches passed through a charming village Tanner told them was no more than five miles from Malvern. The rain had stopped two hours earlier and the roadway had been drying, but it was the advent of sunshine that brought out Tanner's invitation that he and Lydia continue to his estate on horseback.

Lydia looked toward the slumbering Jasmine, and then across the coach, to where Justin sat, his curly brimmed beaver cleverly lowered over his eyes so that it was impossible to tell if he was awake or asleep.

“Oh, but we probably shouldn't leave Jasmine without a chaperone,” she whispered. “Should we?”

“On the contrary, my dear,” Justin drawled, pushing back his hat. “You should not be leaving
me
without a chaperone. Compromise is a weapon that cuts both ways, as many an unwary fellow married to some totally unsuitable miss who somehow managed to get him alone just before her conniving mama sprung into the room with witnesses and triumphantly crying
aha
will doubtless tell you.”

“You're really incorrigible,” Lydia told him, laughing.

“Yes, I know. I also would very much like to be on horseback myself, after so many hours confined to this coach. Not that the company hasn't been delightful.”

“Well, then, join us, please.”

“I would, Lydia, save that I also wish for a good gallop. And I do believe I remember the way, having ridden it with you. I'll meet you all at Malvern, shall I?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and opened the small door cut into the well of the coachman's perch.

She hadn't questioned Sarah laying out her riding habit for a second day, believing it easier for the maid, who would not then have to perhaps ask that another trunk be downloaded from the traveling coach.

Besides, she wasn't vain. Sarah had nicely brushed the riding habit and it was certainly fresh enough to be worn again. There had been three trunks in Jasmine's rooms last night, Lydia had noticed. It felt rather gratifying to think that she, Lydia, was more practical.

Within five minutes, the coach had pulled to the side of the roadway, the horses were untied from behind the close-following servant coach, and the protective blankets removed from their saddles. Mildred was moved to the crested coach to be with her slumbering mistress (and prop her up if she began to tilt as the coach rounded some curve), and all three riders were mounted and ready to move on once more.

Almost, Lydia thought, as if the whole thing had been planned.

“Well, I'm off,” Justin said, tipping his hat to her. “A ride across country is just the treat this beast needs.”

“Are you referring to your mount, or yourself?”

“Ah, a very good question, Tanner. I know you won't mind if I ask your butler to bring me one of your best from the wine cellars while I await your arrival. I'll consider it a magnanimous gesture, somewhat a consolation prize on your part.”

“What did he mean by that?” Lydia asked as Justin's horse sprang forward into an almost immediate gallop, clearly eager to stretch its legs.

“Who knows what Justin means by anything he says. Sometimes I believe he speaks just to amuse himself with the sound of his own voice.”

“No, you don't. Believe that, I mean.”

Tanner urged his mount forward at a slow walk beside her Daisy as the trio of coaches disappeared over the rest of the next hill. “You're correct, I don't. I think—no, I know—that he fancied himself falling in love with you.”

“Oh. That,” Lydia said with her usual sangfroid, at which point she felt Tanner's head swivel sharply to look at her. “Pretending he was speaking with Rafe before we left London the way he did? I knew he was only teasing everyone. Nobody tumbles into love so quickly.”

Tanner reached across the space between them, to lay his hand on hers. Shocked and thrilled by this unexpected touch, she looked into his eyes, seeing her world there.

“Yes, Lydia, sometimes they do. Sometimes, against
all reason, and at the most inconceivably disastrous moment any sane man could think possible, they do.”

The day he'd come to tell them about Fitz. She felt hot color in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the now blazing sunshine. “I hated you. For what you were saying. For being alive…”

“I know.”

Lydia bend her head to kiss the skin of Tanner's wrist, above his glove. “Fitz was a very smart man, wasn't he?”

“I feel like we have his blessing, yes.”

She blinked back tears. But these were healing tears, and they washed away any lingering doubt she might have had that she should be allowed such happiness, born of such deep sorrow.

Tanner squeezed her hand before letting it go. “If you're up to riding across country, there's a spot on the hills I've visited often over the years. I'd like you to first see Malvern from there.”

“I think I'd like that very much.” She swiped quickly at her damp cheeks, and smiled at him. “But remember, I'm not the rider Nicole is. No fearlessly flying over five-bar fences for me.”

He pointed to a small lane to their left, and they headed toward it, and moments later were out of sight from the broader road. Because the packed earth was still somewhat soft from the earlier rain, she could see the imprints made by Justin's mount minutes before.

“Pardon me for saying this, but thank God for that. Lucas enjoys her adventurous spirit, but if you were
likewise inclined, I'd never have a quiet moment, for worrying about you, for the fear that I could lose you.”

Lydia smiled, her heart warm. Had there ever been such happiness in the world? Nothing stood between them now, nothing and nobody. No shadows, no more obstacles, real or imagined, to overcome. The road ahead, the life ahead, was all theirs. “Then I should promise to always be staid and boring and…safe?”

“Safe, yes. I find you far from staid or boring.” His smile was all she could hope for. “But if you wouldn't mind?”

“Not at all. I hereby solemnly promise to be just who I am. Quiet, somewhat studious, and harboring not a single desire for adventure. Oh, and safe.”

“And I promise to love you for all of our days, and all of our nights, for all of our lives.”

Lydia's breath caught as she turned to look at him.

He smiled sheepishly and shook his head. “I've been wanting to say that to you for so long. I've pictured the moment in my head a dozen times—the time, the place. And now I've just blurted it out. I'm sorry.”

“I'm not,” she said quietly.

He looked at her for long moments, and then nodded, almost as if he found it hard to speak; even humbled.

But he was the Duke of Malvern. A brave soldier. Wealthy, handsome; a friend to be treasured. A gentleman. Respected. A good man.

And she had reduced him to speechlessness?
Her?
How…why? What did this wonderful man see in her that she had never recognized in herself?

For all of her life she had stood in Nicole's shadow. Hidden there. And happily so.

But Tanner had seen her, found her, touched her in a way that no one and nothing else ever had. He was her sunlight, and she'd never seek the false safety of the shadows again.

Everyone, she realized as her heart took wing, flies in their own way. But everyone can
soar.

“We leave the lane here, and ride across country,” Tanner told her, waking her from her thoughts. “Are you ready?”

She nodded, shifting her grip on Daisy's reins. “Yes. I'm ready. I really am.”

It was impossible to speak to each other as they rode, sometimes in single-file when the pathways narrowed between the increasing number of trees. They rode alongside the hedgerows between planted fields. But those were soon left behind, to be replaced with low rolling hills of the greenest of green grasses and more trees.

She could see higher hills dotted across the distance, green-topped heights that seemed to roll on and on, to the ends of the earth. The air was fresh, and fragrant, the breeze warm against her cheek. Everywhere she looked was land that seemed untouched by anything save the sun and the rain, almost sacred, so beautiful the sight brought tears to her eyes.

And then Tanner put up his hand, indicating that they should stop here, just before the crest of another low, rolling hill.

He dismounted, tied his mount's reins to a hanging branch of a nearby tree, and then approached Daisy.

“If you don't mind, I'd like us to walk from here. Malvern, my home, yours if you'll have it, can be seen from just on the other side of this hill.”

Lydia leaned toward him, the move so natural now. She felt no hint of shyness as he lifted her down from the sidesaddle. As he held her, kissed her.

Hand-in-hand, they climbed the easy rise to the top of the hill, the long, sweet-smelling grass rising to her knees, dancing in the breeze.

Tanner moved confidently, at ease in his own environment, and clearly proud to be showing her his home.

Oddly, Lydia supposed, she'd never really considered her surroundings. Not that she would have wished to live in a hovel. But whether it had been the comfortably rundown Willowbrook when her mother deigned to keep her children with her or the glories that were Ashurst, as long as she had her books, a garden, and good company, she believed she could be content anywhere.

Even London wasn't so bad, because there was always a quiet window seat or cozy nook somewhere, a soft blanket to spread over her lap, and a world of books at her fingertips.

But she did much prefer the country. The quiet, the slower pace, the familiarity of family…

“Oh.” Lydia stopped, tried to catch her breath that had suddenly deserted her as the hill gently sloped downward below her feet and the jewel that was
Malvern lay before her in the distance. The sunlight twinkled off the four full stories of mullioned windows, most of them set in pairs or threes and fours and edged with smooth light grey stone…with matching huge, arched sets stretching a full two stories high fronting each of the wings that jutted forward on either side of the center section.

The structure itself was of deepest gray stone, but it did not look heavy, and most certainly could not be dark, not with all those windows. Two dozen chimneys must have marched along the roof, but all in a very orderly fashion, and not at all higgledy-piggledy.

Tanner's coach sat on the gravel drive in front of the main doors, until the driver on the box took up the reins and horses and coach moved on, taking a turn some ways from the mansion, heading toward the two other coaches that were already in the stable yards. She and Tanner would be the last to arrive.

Lydia was in no hurry. She could rest here for hours, just looking at Tanner's home. Her home.

She could see the lush gardens to the rear of the structure, the artfully planted trees, the stables in the distance. Malvern hadn't been built on the land, it was part of it, nestled in its own sweet valley, snug, for all that it was so very large.

Tanner stood close behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist, rested his chin on her head. “Look hard, sweetheart. Do you see our children playing hide-and-seek in the gardens? Do you see us sitting in the shade, the baby laughing on a blanket at our feet as I read to you?”

She saw it. She could see it all. Her bottom lip trembled. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, it all depends on that, does it?” he said, laughter in his voice. But when he spoke again, his voice was low, and filled with emotion. “Very well. ‘
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, so soft, so calm, yet eloquent, the smiles that win, the tints that glow, but tell of days in goodness spent, a mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent.
'”

“Byron. But I am, you know. At peace with all below, and all above, as well.” She sighed in pure contentment. “It's perfect. Everything is so perfect. Like a dream.”

He turned her toward him, looking down into her uplifted face, his expression one of love freely given, and if there were any shadows in his eyes, she would not see them. He removed the pins from her hat and let it drop to the ground, then took her face in his hands. “Then may we never wake up…”

His kisses were soft, gentle. Each one a promise. To love her. To always be there for her. Father to their children. Comfortable, sharing. A hand to hold. A smile like no other. And all that he gave her, she would give back a hundredfold…gladly. He held her heart, he held her soul, her body.

He was hers, and she was his. And it was right.

Slowly, they sank to their knees in the long, soft grass. Holding each other, their kisses deepening, the sweet taste of passion rooted in love shaking them, nearly overwhelming them with its power.

Slowly, he laid her back against the warm, sweet-smelling grasses.

She rose against his touch, wordlessly telling him to take what he wanted, even as she moved her hands over him, longing to touch, aching to hold. Sensations still new to her caught at her breath; the sweet ache between her thighs urged her on, all inhibitions flown.

Everything she ever wanted, an entire world she hadn't known existed. She knew she had found all of that and more in his arms.

No more shadows. Tanner had brought her into the sunlight. The past was gone; hers and his. Together, they were reborn. There was nothing now but their future, together.

He fit inside her as if fashioned especially for her, as she had been for him. Two halves made whole in each other.

Together, they climbed the heights. Together, they soared. Their passion shared, as they would share everything for all of their days and all of their nights, as long as they lived.

When it was over—No, it would never be over! Not for them!—Tanner kissed her hair, her bared breasts. He gently stroked the heated flesh between her thighs, soothing her as she slowly came down from the heights.