Leslie Lafoy (32 page)

“Frankly, so would I.”

He reached for his suit coat. “Remind me again why we’re doing this to ourselves?”

“Because we are members of society and must be perceived as worth knowing.”

“Why?”

“I’m a bit fuzzy on that part,” she said as he put on the coat and fastened the buttons. “I get various complicated explanations from Mother Aubrey—along with rolling eyes and a heavy sigh—every time I ask. The underlying theme of all her dissertations, though, appears to be that it’s financially profitable for everyone.”

“If that’s the case,” he suggested, stepping in front of her and extending his hands, “why don’t we just nail some banknotes to the front door along with a note saying we’ll see them all in London sometime?”

Allowing him to pull her to her feet, she laughed softly and countered, “
Now
you think of that?”

“You are beautiful,” he murmured, gazing into her upturned face.

“For an exhausted woman?”

“No qualifiers at all.” He gently squeezed her hands and bent his head. “Just beautiful,” he whispered across her lips.

As he drew back, she sighed softly and shook her head. “I don’t know if absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it obviously makes the eyes more forgiving.”

Nothing either impaired or affected his eyesight. She
was
beautiful. And he was more than willing to make the effort to convince her of it. “How long do we have before the locusts descend?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and drawing her against him.

Her brow went up and the light in her eyes danced in anticipation. Her lips parted ever so enticingly and heated his blood in the most wonderful way.

The knock at the door instantly chilled it. And startled them both.

“Drayton?”

Damn. Haywood.

The doorknob turned.

“Not long enough,” she said softly, hastily stepping out of his embrace and darting toward the safety of the sitting room. Drayton quickly turned and stepped to the side, placing his body between the opening door and the path of her retreat.

“Yes?” he asked tightly as Haywood pushed the door just wide enough to step onto the threshold.

“Have you by any chance seen Lady Caroline?” his friend asked with a dark look before glancing meaningfully over his shoulder. “Or know where she might be?”

Drayton stowed his frustration and crossed the room. Haywood retreated only a half step, pushing the door
wider and turning sideways to allow Drayton to see into the hall behind him. Aubrey’s mother stood in front of Caroline’s door. Judging by the high arch of her brow . . . “Is there a problem, Lady Aubrey?”

“Lady Caroline is not answering my knock.”

Bless Haywood
. “Perhaps she’s in her sitting room and can’t hear you,” Drayton said, thinking fast. “Allow me to check.”

He left both of them standing where they were and stepped to the other door in his room. Caroline was waiting there for him.

“I dozed off while reading,” she said quickly, “and you had to wake me.”

“Sounds entirely plausible.” He caught her hands and stayed her for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you downstairs in a few minutes.”

She was gone with a nod and a rustle of silk, not looking back as she dashed through the sitting rooms and closed the connecting door of hers behind her. Drayton considered the panel for a moment, not liking the barrier, but understanding the prudence of it. God help them both if Lady Aubrey saw it standing wide and made assumptions. Not that they’d be wrong, but it would be—

“My lips are sealed.”

Drayton wheeled about to find Haywood leaning ever so nonchalantly against the armoire, an ever so grim tightness to his smile. Drayton silently walked past him, pasted a false but easy smile on his face, and stepped into the opening of the other door.

“I was correct, Lady Aubrey,” he said, even as Caroline opened her door and the other woman looked away from him.

“My apologies,” he heard Caroline say. “I was relaxing with a book and dozed off. Is there a concern, Lady Aubrey?”

Leaving her to manage the woman on her own, Drayton stepped back into his room to deal with his unexpected caller. Haywood made no move to depart; he simply stood there studying him with a cool, level gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Drayton prodded.

“Not at this precise moment.”

Resigned to enduring the inevitable, Drayton ambled to the bureau asking, “Do you mind if I finish dressing while you lecture?”

“Toadies don’t lecture,” Haywood replied. “Bad form to be critical and all that.”

“But?” Drayton pressed, threading his watch chain.

“Just a reminder that it’s always the woman who pays the price for scandal.”

“Noted, Haywood. Only a complete cad wouldn’t be concerned about the consequences for his partner and take every precaution to avoid discovery. If you hadn’t walked into my private quarters uninvited, the secret would still be a secret.”

“True, my suspicions would still be nothing more than suspicions.”

Drayton tucked the watch into its pocket on his vest. “Have we been careless?”

“Only in that neither of you can keep from being obviously happy in each other’s company. And that you often speak to each other with mere looks the way old married couples do. It all rather implies a relationship deeper and more personal than that of a proper guardian and ward, much less that of two relative strangers.”

“I’ll make a point to be unhappy and uncommunicative in the days ahead,” Drayton promised. “It shouldn’t be all that difficult.” As Haywood cocked a brow in silent comment, Drayton added, “And I’ll be counting on you to act as my chaperone.”

His friend slapped his hands over his heart and looked up at the ceiling. “An elevation of my status. Yesterday a common toady, today . . . ” Grinning, he let his hands fall to his sides and brought his gaze down to meet Drayton’s. “You can count on me. I’ll do my best to keep you distracted, frustrated, and surly. No one will ever guess that Lady Caroline has made you a happy man.”

Yes, Drayton allowed, nodding and heading for the door with Haywood on his heels, he was a happy man. By and large. A home that anyone would consider well appointed and comfortable. An estate that was well on its way to becoming profitable again. A good friend at his side. And beautiful, delightful Caroline in his arms.

Yes, if it weren’t for the rapidly approaching horde of strangers and the social expectations for his and Caroline’s respective marriages, he’d consider his world utterly idyllic. The strangers would eventually grow bored and move on to disrupt someone else’s life, of course. But the expectations weren’t going to go away with them. They would always be there, making certain that his happiness was only temporary. Given that reality . . .

A virtuous and prudent man would—firmly, deliberately, and gallantly—set Caroline aside for the sake of protecting her reputation and prospects. A selfish, unconscionably hedonistic man would hold her close for as long as he could and hope they could be careful and discreet enough to escape scandal and ruination. Proof, as though he needed it, that he was considerably less than
the man she deserved. Thank God Haywood was there to see that he didn’t do something incredibly stupid in the days ahead.

AS MOTHER AUBREY OPENLY CONTEMPLATED THE EXPLA
-nation for her whereabouts, Caroline stepped back and opened the door wide, asking, “Would you care to come in?”

“Am I to assume,” the older woman intoned as she swept into Caroline’s bedroom, “that your private chambers are attached to those of Lord Ryland?”

“Through our respective sitting rooms,” she supplied, wondering why Lady Aubrey hadn’t considered the possibility before.

“And the doors are not locked?”

“There are no keys. At least not that we have been able to locate. Given all the other work that has been necessary in the past few weeks, replacing the old locks with new ones has not been a priority.” She motioned to the pair of chairs placed before the banked hearth. “Would you care to have a seat?”

Lady Aubrey gave a crisp nod and lowered herself into one of them, saying, “I think it prudent, prior to the arrival of Lord Ryland’s guests, to touch upon the more important aspects of your public presentation and conduct.”

Well, it was a reprieve of sorts. At least it wasn’t an inquisition regarding her private conduct.

“I have observed since my arrival that you have been instilled with an understanding of good, basic manners. Which is fortunate and far more than can be said for either of your sisters.”

A compliment followed by a barb. How very typical.
“I am sure they can learn. With the proper instruction.”

“A lady is always optimistic,” Mother Aubrey said with a tight smile. “Which is one of several important caveats that bear mention at this time.”

“Such as?” Caroline asked, hoping she sounded more willing than she felt.

“Ladies do not stride as you are wont to do, Lady Caroline. They glide. Ladies do not laugh, they titter politely. Ladies do not ask personal questions of others. Nor do they offer personal information about themselves. Should one of Lord Ryland’s guests comment favorably on the various appointments of Ryland Castle, the draperies, for instance, although I doubt very much that it is likely, you should nod appreciatively, smile, and make no mention of the details of how they came to be. Under no circumstances are you to mention that you in any way personally participated in the process of their acquisition or creation.”

Oh, God forbid.
“I understand.”

“I suggest that your best approach to navigating the days ahead is to affect a retiring demeanor and to practice keen observation. Never be the first to act or speak in any given social situation. If you diligently follow the path of others, you will be far less likely to make a disastrous misstep.”

“I certainly would not want to do that.”

Mother Aubrey arched a brow and pursed her lips until they were a bloodless line. It took a long moment, but she rallied to tartly instruct, “Ladies are never sarcastic. It implies an unpleasantly critical nature. Which is most unbecoming and not a characteristic that men seek in a wife.”

“Of course.”
I wouldn’t dream of being anything more than the perfect adornment.

“Those who will soon arrive are of the oldest, most
influential families in England,” Lady Aubrey went on. “The opinions Lord Ryland’s guests form of you in the coming days will be the foundation of the reputation that precedes you to London and your formal introduction to society with the advent of the next Season. It is of the utmost importance that you conduct yourself in a manner that leads them to form glowingly favorable impressions. If you fail even marginally in that endeavor, you will be at a distinct disadvantage in the competition for a suitable husband.”

“And if I fail spectacularly?” she asked before she could think better of it.

Lady Aubrey blinked—twice—before snapping, “Ladies are not flippant. They take seriously the requirements society places upon them in the interest of their betterment and security.”

How thoughtful and caring of society.

“A woman’s reputation is her fortune, Lady Caroline. How she protects, nurtures, and trades upon it determines her lot and happiness in life. I would advise you to do all within your power to use wisely the exceptional opportunity you have been given by your late father.”

“May his soul rest in peace.”

“Indeed,” the other woman said with a momentary bow of her head. “Take care, Lady Caroline. Do nothing, say nothing in public or in private that you would not want all of England to know about in the most scathing, most salacious detail.”

Good judgment suggested that she simply nod and keep her mouth shut. After countless days of frantic work, though, she was too tired to listen to it or care about the consequences. “Are Lord Ryland’s approaching guests known to be window peepers and vicious gossipmongers?”

The brow went up again. “A lady does not cast aspersions,” Lady Aubrey said icily.

Hypocrisy at its finest.
“Unless she has cause, apparently,” Caroline pointed out. “However slight or imagined it may be.”

Aubrey’s mother rose to her feet as Caroline wearily gained hers. “Ladies do not provoke conflict,” she advised. “It is even more unbecoming than sarcasm and flippancy. You are courting disaster with your defiant attitudes, Lady Caroline.”

Yes, I know. Now go away.
Caroline summoned a smile and all the contriteness she could muster to reply, “I shall do my best in the days ahead to stifle my natural tendencies and blend with the wallpaper whenever possible.”

Lady Aubrey looked her up and down before promising darkly, “I will be watching you carefully to be sure that you do.”

Thinking that she should consider herself fortunate that Mother Aubrey wasn’t putting her on a leash, Caroline went to the door and opened it. “Thank you for your concern, Lady Aubrey,” she offered in a less-than-subtle end to their exchange. “And your words of wisdom,” she added as the woman sailed regally past her and into the hall. “I appreciate the instruction.”

Lady Aubrey muttered something about pearls and swine as Caroline was closing the door, but this time she let good judgment rule. Standing alone inside her room, she scrubbed her hands over her face and sighed. If all the women about to arrive at Ryland Castle were like Aubrey’s mother . . . God give her strength. And the haven of Drayton’s arms.

Yes, she reminded herself as she dropped her hands and squared her shoulders, she could get through anything
as long as she knew that at the end of the day, Drayton would be waiting to hold her and willing to make all the trials and tribulations of their world disappear.

Only a reckless fool would openly defy convention and invite ruin. And since she was no fool, she would ably manage the charade, would artfully maintain public appearances and meet every social expectation. She would be the embodiment of ladylike grace and refinement, the
Godey’s
ideal woman—above reproach and suspicion and the slightest possibility of scandal—come to life. When outside her and Drayton’s rooms.