One Whisper Away (20 page)

“A more suitable match? How so?” Whatever he was, her father was no fool. She’d gotten his attention. His gaze was speculative.

“They are just so much more . . . compatible.”

“Are they now? Is there something I should know?”

Cecily rose, smiling. This was turning out perfectly, from the inquiring look on her father’s usually impassive face to his acquiescence over her engagement. “It was just an observation.”

“Was it now?” he asked dryly. “Why is it I sense I have just been manipulated?”

“W
atch me!”

Next to her, Lillian saw Carole hide a smile. Betsy didn’t even bother to try, her grin open as they all observed their precocious niece attempting a clumsy tumble across the small inner square of grass in the garden and leap up in triumph.

Perhaps in the midst of disgrace, in the middle of the blow of her parents’ untimely deaths, in the chaos of being forced into self-imposed seclusion, Lillian had forgotten about the joys life had to offer, among them a child’s exuberance over such a simple pleasure as a sunny afternoon and a patch of grass. Had four years really passed her by?

“Lovely.” Lily applauded, her neglected parasol leaning against the marble bench where they sat. Since her complexion hardly mattered, what did she care? “Addie, do it again.”

“Don’t encourage her.” Carole gently elbowed her in the ribs. “Her gown is already getting quite dusty.”

The late-afternoon sun slanted across the flowers, the soothing low drone of a bee intent on a nearby bush soporific. Betsy brushed back a chestnut curl and laughed. “I have to admit Addie is delightful. I was startled when she first called me Auntie Bets, for I felt like a veritable fossil, but frankly, her sunny disposition is quite captivating.”

And Jonathan clearly adored his little daughter. No one could deny that. The unconditional acceptance of a child born on the wrong side of the blanket was unusual, but then again, their brother was not a typical aristocrat either. His eclectic habit of late-night rides aside, he read to Adela in the evenings, closely supervised her care, and whenever possible, took her with him. Childish laughter was no longer a surprise in the household, but an expected sound.

It was odd, but since his arrival, which she had so dreaded, Lily was finding life . . . interesting for the first time since her debacle with Arthur four years ago, and she had her unpredictable brother to thank for it.

While Addie executed another less than perfect somersault, Lily murmured to her sisters, “So tell me, how is it all progressing?”

Why was it she felt so old when she really wasn’t more than a few years their senior? Maybe it was the unwelcome reality of making a grievous error and having to live with the consequences.

Carole and Betsy glanced at each other and smiled.

“What?” she demanded. “Good heavens, you can’t keep it from me if there is something to tell.”

Betsy waved a hand. “There are a few promising prospects out there.”

“As in?”

“The Lane brothers perhaps.”

For a moment Lily had no idea who that might be, as she was so out of touch, but then she understood. “The twin sons of Lord Stonevale?”

It was Carole who nodded, looking demure in her ruffled day gown. “For a moment we thought we were interested in the same man, but then it turned out there were two of them. Imagine.”

“Two sisters and two brothers . . . that is interesting.”

“Come join us at the next gathering and we will all compare our thoughts on the subject.” Betsy’s eyes grew suspiciously bright and she reached over to clasp her hand. “We have quite missed you, you know.”

Add guilt to her list of myriad emotions. . . .

Luckily Addie dashed up, her dark hair in disarray, and extended one decidedly grubby hand. Unfortunately the new addition to the household, a puppy of questionable lineage that seemed to consist of a great deal of fuzzy hair, clumsily followed along and decided to sit on the hem of Lily’s new gown.

“What am I looking at?” Lily inquired, lifting the wiggling little dog up and gently setting it aside. “Let me see.”

“Magic.” Addie’s little face was adorably sincere, her eyes fastened on her palm as she unfurled her fingers.

It was a rock, small and gold, polished in some way by the elements so that the surface was smooth and rich. Lily picked it up and examined it by turning it over in her fingers. “It’s lovely, Addie.”

“It was on the floor. It fell out of Papa’s pocket.”

There was enough of an anxious look in the child’s eyes that Lily said reassuringly, “I am sure he won’t mind you are keeping it for him.”

“I had to. I told you. It’s magic.”

“How so?”

“He said so.” Adela’s dark eyes were wide. “What if I lose it?”

Lily looked at the gleaming stone in her palm. “Shall I return it to him?”

A vigorous nod was the response, and the child took off scampering down the path, her nursemaid hovering, the small puppy running along in pursuit.

“It’s a rock,” Betsy said, her expression skeptical.

“Rather pretty, though,” Carole added, but she also looked unimpressed. “But why would he carry it about with him?”

“I’ve no idea.” Lily closed her fingers around it. Jonathan was not the easiest person to understand, but she could at least say with some certainty that they were getting to know one another. She smiled. “Maybe because it’s magic?”

 

“Congratulations.”

The throaty tone alone would give him pause, not to mention the provocative sway of the body in his arms. Jonathan snapped back to attention because he was truthfully watching for Cecily’s entrance anyway. “For what?”

“Your engagement.”

He didn’t even know if he had the Duke of Eddington’s approval yet. How the devil could Lucille Blackwood get the news before
he
did? “Pardon?” he asked cautiously, sweeping her into the next turn of the waltz.

“You called on Eddington’s young daughter and spoke to her father this afternoon.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction. “How do you know that?”

“Oh, darling.” She laughed. “You truly are quite . . . colonial. News travels quickly in London. Didn’t you know? Everyone is agog over it.”

He wasn’t her darling, but that was hardly the issue. Even as she suggestively trailed a finger across his jaw, he wondered how the devil he could find James. While he was still a novice in English society, his cousin knew everything.

Well,
just
about everything.

“No, I didn’t know, but I’m learning.”

“I hope so.”

He wasn’t going to rise to that baited inference.

“Agog why?”

“Not quite the match anyone expected.”

“And here I thought the
ton
was whispering about us constantly.”

“No wonder. You’re delightfully . . . smooth, my lord,” Mrs. Blackwood murmured, her skirts swirling across his legs, her fingertip now drifting across his lower lip.

“I shave,” he replied, knowing that wasn’t what she meant, maybe more terse than he should have been, but then again, he hadn’t expected this rumor to surface before he’d had a chance to discuss it with his family. It had been only hours since he’d met with the duke.

Actually, considering that it was nearly midnight, eight good hours, maybe more, and she was right—this was the
ton
.

“The impending loss of bachelorhood surely is a landmark in a man’s life.”

At the sultry tone of his dance partner’s voice, he understood. A voluptuous brunette with blue-green eyes and a seductive smile
and
a contemporary of the persistent Lady Irving, she’d been even more flirtatious than usual this evening.

He was getting tired of this game.

Ah, that damned bet. One thousand pounds riding on being the first to lure him into a tryst. He’d all but forgotten about it. “If my impending engagement were true, I would hope so,” he said dryly. “Marriage is hardly to be taken lightly, don’t you agree?”

“It’s a bit boring, actually,” she told him with a slight shrug. “My husband and I barely see each other. Our
interests
are so different.”

The implication that she was free this evening didn’t escape him. Apparently all those jaded aristocratic ladies worried his possible betrothal might thwart their purposes. Or maybe it added more spice to the challenge, he thought in the next moment as she leaned in closer and her lavish breasts pressed against his chest.

“Perhaps the two of you should strive to make more time for each other.” He eased her backward enough for some sense of propriety.

“All he likes are his horses, his club, and his mistress.”

“In that order?”

She laughed. “If I were pressed to guess, I would say so. He likes racing, his likes his drink, and maybe after those two pastimes grow tiresome, he visits his paramour.”

“It does not trouble you?” He was genuinely curious.

“No.”

Jonathan raised his brows at her frankness, still swirling her among the dancers. “I find it hard to believe that you couldn’t distract him with a little effort.”

“Why would I want to, Lord Augustine?” Her reply was breathy and deliberately soft.

“Because you are married? As you mentioned, I am a quaint colonial in some ways, but loyalty and vows are significant in my world.”

The music ended a moment later and he gratefully extracted himself from her clinging hands and set off to find his cousin. James actually found him first, on his way to the drinks table, and because they knew each other well, he handed over a glass of champagne—he had two—and said, “I’d venture a guess you could use a little sustenance now that you found an avenue of escape.”

“I’ve always thought you much more intelligent than you appear to be.” Jonathan was able to grin, which after that excruciating waltz, was saying something. “How pained did I look?”

“Very,” James acknowledged. “I’d suggest the smoking room, but you always prefer outside.”

“Always.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. It’s raining.” James sounded resigned, glancing at the nearby moisturestreaked window.

The warm day had produced a drizzly evening and the air was damp and heavy. Jonathan chuckled involuntarily. “Think of the practicalities. We’ll be able to converse freely, for we will be alone.”

“That’s because no one with any sense wishes to stand outside in full evening kit in the damp,” James grumbled.

That was probably true. The rain against the tall windows was not hard, but it was steady.

“What the devil happened to your face?” Distracted for a moment from the conversation, Jonathan saw a large dark bruise just below his cousin’s left temple with a glimmer of concern.

James reached up and touched it with a small wince. “Damned footpad accosted me the other night as I walked out of our club. I’m not sure what he hit me with, but I went sprawling into the street and if it wasn’t for the steward at the door who shouted and ran to my aid, I’m sure I would have been robbed. I never saw it coming. I had a nasty headache the next day, let me assure you.”

“It looks like it.”

Jonathan might have said more, but at that moment a young baronet he’d met several times walked past and clapped him on the shoulder, an affable smile on his face. “Felicitations, Augustine, on your engagement.”

As the man walked away, Jonathan muttered, “How the devil does everyone
know
?
I
don’t even know, damn it.”

“Can I ask what exactly we’re discussing?” There was a degree of caution in his cousin’s tone. “Did your meeting with the duke not go well after all?”

“I think it went very well indeed, but I can’t be sure. For what he is, he seems decent enough.”

“For what he is?” James was openly amused. “I suppose that is a not so oblique reference to his position in the hierarchy of the British aristocracy. May I point out, Jon, that our family—”

“No, you may not,” Jonathan interrupted curtly. “And that really is not what I meant anyway. Yes, he’s an exalted duke, but I am glad that first of all he is a father, and he
should
take his daughter’s future into consideration with due weight—I know I’ll do so for mine, so I cannot blame him for not giving me a direct answer. I’d think less of him if he blithely agreed to my proposal and didn’t discuss it with her.” Jonathan took a solid swallow of tepid champagne.

“Maybe you need to define that actual problem, then. As far as I can tell, she wishes to marry you and you wish to marry her.”

This wasn’t the moment to mention that Cecily had no real desire to actually marry him. “I haven’t told Carole or Betsy, much less Lillian, yet. I thought I would wait until arrangements were made. I can’t believe that this would spread so quickly. Luckily Lily declined to attend because she says she needs some new gowns.”

That translated to acknowledging the need to actually discuss the particulars with his intended bride as soon as possible. If, that is, her father even decided Earl Savage would make a suitable husband.

“As for the circulation of the rumor of the engagement, believe it.” James’s voice held considerable cynicism. “The duke does not clear his throat and his entire household not know it. Let’s admit also that you are quite the noticeable visitor. Every servant from the footman who opened the door for you, to the butler, to the—”

Jonathan interrupted again, which he wouldn’t normally do, but he caught a glimpse of hair of a certain pale shade that seemed permanently etched in his brain, and even from across the crowded ballroom and with her back turned, he recognized the smoothness of her slender shoulders and the elegant length of her neck. “How long has she been here?”

“She?” James failed completely in his attempt to look puzzled as he also gazed in the open terrace doors.