Surrender of Trust (First Volume of the Surrender Series) (23 page)

Lucy’s heart raced every time Chalifour
looked at her, never mind when he touched her. She really should
try and keep her distance from him rather than dwell on him. Yet in
her most secret heart, Lucy wanted to be near him, smell his scent.
Jumping up, Lucy paced her room. This could not end well for
her.

Mentally thanking Lady Elizabeth for giving
her the gowns, Lucy walked to the armoire and perused her
selection. Her fingers caressed the silk fabric of the same green
gown she had worn the other evening. It hadn’t served to charm
Monique’s brother when she asked for the loan, Lucy thought
ruefully. Still, it was definitely the most flattering one she had.
Again, Lucy had to ask herself why was she so preoccupied with her
appearance?

The maid had already fussed with her hair,
pinning it into a fashionable, upswept style. Lucy leaned close to
the mirror, examining her reflection critically. She yanked the
hairpins from her hair and grabbed her brush. Brushing her hair in
quick brisk strokes, Lucy finished and leaned back to stare at her
reflection again. She really needed Millie right now. She signed
and busied herself pinning her annoyingly, thick locks.

An hour later, pasting a smile on her face,
Lucy coasted into the drawing room, head held high. Thanks to
Glenhurst's matchmaking efforts, she and Monique were essentially
on display like so wares in the marketplace. In reality, it was
humiliating. Lucy and Monique might as well have been on the
auction block at Tattersalls.

Lucy’s skin prickled from the predatory
interest in the eyes which followed her as she crossed the room.
She spotted Monique laughing and conversing with Lord Duttenshire
in the far left corner. Turning in their direction, Lucy made to
walk over to Monique when she realized Lord Carlton was also
strolling in Monique's direction.

Lucy gritted her teeth. Monique was now
officially on the prowl. Though Monique wouldn’t mind her joining
the conversation, Lucy didn’t want to create a distraction or
interrupt any courtship overtures of the men buzzing around
Monique. Lucy swiveled to see who else might be safe harbor for
her. She surveyed the room and saw him.

Arms folded across his broad chest, Chalifour
leaned casually against the mantelpiece over the fireplace, his
blue eye regarding her steadily. Lucy was certain her heart stopped
because a moment passed before she could breathe again.

God help her! Chalifour was here
already
. Warring with herself, Lucy had half-hoped he would
attend, half-hoped he would not. Determined not to let Chalifour
see his effect on her, Lucy turned on her heel and walked toward
the blue scrolled couch on the opposite side of the room. Not
having been introduced to many of the men, it would be
inappropriate for Lucy to approach them directly.

Lucy sat on the couch and plucked nervously
at the folds of her skirt. She sensed, rather than saw, Chalifour
move behind her. He had stalked her from across the room.
Chalifour’s scent enveloped her and his breath grazed the back of
her neck when he leaned close. A shiver rippled through her and the
hairs along the nape of her neck stood at attention.

Chalifour whispered into her ear from
behind."As always, your loveliness is enchanting. Elizabeth’s dress
suits you."

Lucy refused to turn and look at him. "You
are very charming, Lord Chalifour. Have we been properly
introduced?" Lucy asked primly, continuing to stare straight ahead.
Damn that silky voice of his
.

"I’d say we’ve been very properly introduced.
Wouldn’t you?"

Lucy said nothing.

"You still haven’t told me why you wanted to
race in the Oaks."

"Nor will I."

"Sooner or later you need to trust
someone."

When she didn’t respond, Lucy felt
Chalifour’s presence move away and her breath came easier.
Surreptitiously, Lucy watched his powerful frame move through the
room with a feline grace to stand among a group of men in the
corner. Lucy needed to make Glenhurst happy so it was time to
circulate. Reluctantly, she stood and moved to mingle with the
visitors.

Lucy smiled prettily and made polite
conversation with some of the guests she knew. Lord Glenhurst and
Monique introduced her to several young men. Her smile remained
frozen on her face when their eyes wandered slowly up and down her
form. Chalifour’s gaze seemed to follow as she traversed the room.
It was obviously her imagination, but his eyes appeared to burn
when she chatted with other men. Though at times, Lucy had an
impression of restrained violence emanating from Chalifour.

Dinner was announced. Suddenly as if by its
own volition, her arm was smoothly and firmly tucked into the crook
of Chalifour’s powerful arm. "Allow me," Chalifour said.

The purr of his voice made Lucy's toes curl.
Chalifour guided her into the dining room where Glenhurst and
Monique, as host and hostess, were being seated. Choosing a chair
toward the far end of the table, Chalifour withdrew it and gently
settled her. So much for escaping him.
Why did he have to be so
handsome? And why did he have to be so close to her?
He made it
hard to concentrate. Lucy desperately needed the one thing she
didn’t have, a clear head.

The conversation droned on about the table,
like so many little bees in Lucy's head. She was occasionally
peppered with questions from those seated near her. What was it
like growing up in a family that raised thoroughbreds? Had Lucy
been formally schooled? Did her brother plan to continue racing as
a jockey?

Lucy tried to remain attentive to those
around her, but all she could focus on was Chalifour sitting next
to her, warming her blood. The hardness of his thigh pressed
against her leg and warmth suffused her body, fogging her head
further.
Think. Think
.

Lucy stole a glance at him. Chalifour’s lips
were half curved into a sensuous smile, his deep blue eyes fastened
squarely on her. Lucy looked away quickly, not willing to be pulled
into those depths.

All Lucy had to do was survive dinner and the
evening without making a faux pas. Once she satisfied Glenhurst,
she would be free to return home tomorrow to square things with her
brother.
When would this wretched affair be over?

Lost in her thoughts, it dawned on Lucy an
absolute silence had descended upon the room. All the little bees
had stopped droning. Blinking, Lucy looked around with growing
horror as she realized everyone at the table was scrutinizing her.
"I’m sorry? What did you ask?"

"I said, Miss Goodwin," Lord Carlton repeated
slowly and distinctly, as if to a child, "whatever possessed you to
create that scandal at the Oaks the other day? I would really like
to know the answer to that question."

Lucy caught a glimpse of Glenhurst before
dropping her eyes. His face had darkened to a most unflattering
shade of purple, a deep furrow appeared in his brow and his mouth
was puckered in a frown. He was apoplectic. Nausea crept up Lucy’s
throat. What could she possibly say? She had probably caused
irreparable harm to both her and Lucien’s reputation. The ton was
not very forgiving of scandal.

She stammered, "I, I’m ... "

"It’s all my fault, really." The smooth,
assured voice came from beside her. Lucy turned quickly to look at
Chalifour.

"Miss Goodwin and I had made a wager stemming
from the fact she and her brother looked so much alike."

"Do tell," Glenhurst said with an edge to his
voice.

"It began when she was explaining to me how
people used to confuse her and her brother when they were young. I
believe she was complaining about looking too much like a boy,"
Chalifour said.

A boy indeed!
Lucy noted the wicked
smile on Chalifour’s face and suspected he was having a little
sport with her. She could hardly complain, however, since he was
busy saving her dignity and Glenhurst would have learned of her
fiasco sooner or later. Though she would rather it have been
later.

"Miss Goodwin informed me she could still
pass for her brother if she so desired. I, naturally, did not
believe her so we made a wager on whether she could still pass for
Mr. Goodwin. It seemed the race would be the best place to test the
theory since so many people would be in attendance. I must say the
resemblance was uncanny."

"Why the devil did you not admit to this the
other day when I specifically asked you about this?" Glenhurst
demanded, staring at Lucy.

"I’m afraid that’s also my fault," Chalifour
said. "You see, I goaded Miss Goodwin into the whole thing. She was
determined to ensure she continued the deception long enough to win
the bet. When I realized belatedly I had indirectly put her in
harm’s way, I assured her she had indeed won the wager and assisted
her from her mount. Having done so, I was a little embarrassed I
had precipitated putting her into a situation that could cause her
harm. I asked that she not speak of it to anyone."

"I see," Glenhurst said stiffly.

"It is entirely my fault. She was only
honoring my request."

"Very well. I see Miss Goodwin meant no real
harm."

Lucy began breathing again. She tried to show
Chalifour the gratitude she felt in the smile she gave him.

"And what was this wager?" Glenhurst
asked.

"Miss Goodwin wanted her choice of one of the
foals from the new business venture I have undertaken with her
brother," Chalifour answered.

"Business venture?" Glenhurst's eyebrows shot
up in surprise.

"Yes, her brother and I intend to breed some
of the finest racing thoroughbreds in the country."

"And how do you plan to do that? It would be
hard to beat Lord Derby, and Lord Darlington, or the Dukes of
Grafton for that matter."

"We’ll be breeding my mares to the Goodwin
stallions, exclusively," Chalifour said archly. "I'm sure you'll
remember, my mares are of the Godolphian Arabian bloodline. The
Goodwin stallions are from the Byerley Turk and the Darley Arabian
bloodlines."

"Good grief! You’re right, you’ll have a
chance to breed some incredible thoroughbreds! Exclusively, eh?"
Glenhurst stroked his chin with his hand and looked at both Lucy
and Chalifour thoughtfully. "Well played, Chalifour. Well played. I
can see now why you wouldn't want Lucy speaking of this. Her
brother, being your new partner, wouldn't be happy at all."

"No, I daresay he wouldn't."

Lucy’s heart twinged. Of course Chalifour was
only looking after her because of his interest in her brother, not
because of anything he felt about her. Bitter disappointment welled
up from her depths.

"He won't hear about it from me. Or any of my
guests." Glenhurst looked sternly at the faces scattered about the
enormous table.

The drama was over and conversation began
buzzing again in small groups around the table. Furtive and
questioning glances were leveled at Lucy by several guests. Not
everyone believed the tale, of course, but who would dare insult
Chalifour by challenging his version of the event.

"Lord Glenhurst, I don’t mean to be rude and
must apologize, but I am not feeling entirely well and would like
to take some air," Lucy said.

The deep, smooth voice at her side said, "I
will escort you to the terrace, Miss Goodwin. After all, I would
hate for you to be alone and feel faint."

"There is no need to trouble yourself, Lord
Chalifour. I’m quite certain the evening air will revive me."

"I’m afraid I must insist," Chalifour said.
The tone in his voice brooked no argument.

"I’m afraid I must insist as well," said
Glenhurst. "I can’t have something happen to my sister’s bosom
friend while she is in my care. Or anytime for that matter. My
sister would never forgive me."

Monique chimed in, "That's so true. You'd
best accompany her, Lord Chalifour."

Lucy swore mentally.
Damn it Monique!
Since it was pointless to argue, Lucy gave a slight bow and rose
from the table. Taking her arm, Chalifour tucked it into the crook
of his own and propelled her from the dining room, through the
drawing room and onto the terrace.

Chalifour steered Lucy across the terrace
toward the ornate wrought iron railing overlooking the garden. It
was time to force the truth. He released Lucy's hand from the crook
of his elbow. Chalifour placed his hands on Lucy's shoulders and
turned her body so she was looking squarely at him. Chalifour bent
his head close to Lucy's and looked into her eyes. "We have some
things to discuss."

Lucy disengaged herself and backed away.
"That was nearly a disaster. You saved me from utter disgrace. I
suppose I should thank you for coming to my aid during dinner."

"You're welcome." Chalifour bowed.

"I am in your debt."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now maybe you will
explain why you even considered racing in the Oaks. I think I
deserve an explanation, especially in light of my extricating you
from that delicate situation during dinner."

Lucy's brows drew together and she frowned.
"Let's consider the fact I wouldn't have been in that, as you put
it, delicate situation, had you not interfered at the race course!
No one would have been the wiser! I might have even won!"

"In removing you from the race, I took you
out of a far more delicate scenario than that dinner, one which
might have injured you or even taken your life."

"What makes you think that? I'm an excellent
rider. Certainly as good as some of the men!" Lucy's voice rose in
indignation.

"Yes, you are. But you would have been out of
your depth riding astride. Had you ever ridden astride before that
day?"