The Most to Lose (5 page)

A shiver raced down Celie’s spine. He’d said she’d grown into a charming woman. Not a beautiful woman, which would have been an obvious lie and dropped her opinion of him by several notches. Not a lovely woman, which would have caused her to wonder what need he had to falsely fatter her.

But a charming woman, a description that had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with how she appeared to him.

“I have yet to extend my sympathies on the deaths of your father and your brother. I’m sure their deaths took you by surprise.”

“The news of their passing was not welcome, but it didn’t take me by surprise. Did it you?”

Celie couldn’t find an answer except…“No.”

Haywood locked his gaze with hers and smiled a sad smile. “I knew you would give me the truth. Thank you for that.

“The lives both Father and Charles lived had bordered on the edge of disaster for several years. That they should both die so tragically came as a shock to no one.”

“I didn’t know your brother well. He and your father only visited Hadleigh Estate once or twice.” Celie turned to Jonah and studied his expression. “You don’t remind me at all of him.”

Haywood smiled. “Thank you a second time.”

“No, I meant—”

His raised hand stopped her from explaining that she’d meant in looks. Charles had been as fair as Lord Haywood was dark.

“I know what you meant, but I want you to know I’m not like Charles in actions, either.”

Celie let her shoulders drop. “I know you’re not, but I should have made myself clearer from the start. Hadleigh constantly tells me my mouth will get me into real trouble someday.”

“Do you believe it will?”

Celie shrugged. “Probably. But there’s no help for it. It’s in my makeup.”

Haywood laughed.

“What plans do you have now that you’ve made your return to society? Are you going to stay in London?”

“For a while, yes. I have some matters to take care of.”

“Yes,” Celie answered reluctantly. “I overheard some gentlemen remark that the first thing you need to do is begin your search for a bride.”

His eyebrows arched. “Did they?”

“Yes. You have responsibilities now, and properties. You will need an heir to secure them.”

Haywood gave a hearty laugh. “Let me first tell you that it’s not always wise to believe everything you hear.”

“Then you didn’t come tonight to begin your search for a bride?”

“I came tonight to take my place as the Earl of Haywood. If I happen to meet someone with whom I might wish to continue my acquaintance, then I will do so. But not because my goal is to leave Lady Plimpton’s ball having selected the woman I want as my wife.”

Celie wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. After a second’s thought, she decided it was best if she didn’t put too much thought into it.

He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted enough to face her. He was so near to her she could feel the heat of his leg through the skirts of her gown.

“Do you wish me success?” he asked, but Celie wasn’t sure why he needed her approval of the risk he’d taken tonight.

“Of course I do. You’re the Earl of Haywood now and deserve to be here.”

“Thank you, again.”

For several long seconds, he did not shift his gaze, but kept it locked with hers. The herd of butterflies low in her stomach rustled their wings and took fight.

The effect he had on her was transfixing. She found herself drowning in the ebony depth of his captivating gaze and knew she couldn’t allow him too close a look into her eyes. She was afraid he’d see far more than she wanted him to.

Celie took a step away from the railing. “I need to return,” she said. Being alone with the Earl of Haywood was a dream come true, and she needed to leave before something happened to ruin this perfect moment. “I’m glad things turned out like they did, Lord Haywood. You will make a fine earl.”

Celie walked toward the open doors that led into the ballroom. His voice stopped her before she could escape.

“Did you mean what you just said, Lady Cecelia? That you are glad I attended tonight and approve of my plan to enter society?”

“Of course I meant it.”

He pushed himself away from the balustrade and stepped toward her. “Would you consider helping me?”

She couldn’t help but frown. “Helping you?”

“Yes.”

Lord Haywood stepped close enough to her that they were just beyond the open doorway, far enough so no one could overhear their words, yet exposed enough so they were in full view of the guests in the ballroom.

Celie was aware that they were being observed.

“Would you do me the honor of accepting my invitation to go for a drive tomorrow afternoon? Say, about five?”

Celie couldn’t hide her surprise. “Are you sure?”

“More than sure. Unless, of course, you are concerned about your brother’s reaction.”

Celie debated what answer to give him. She knew Lord Haywood wasn’t really asking
her
because he wanted to spend time alone with her. She knew that, in all likelihood, he’d asked her to accompany him to downplay the feud between the Earl of Haywood and the Duke of Hadleigh, to convince society that the feud was, if not over, at least not as explosive as it had been three years ago. Being seen in her company would do much to stop any rumors of an ongoing battle from faming.

Her brother had plans for tomorrow afternoon and wouldn’t be home to object to her going. If she was lucky, he might not ever find out that she’d spent the afternoon with the Earl of Haywood, although with rumors traveling like they did in society she didn’t hold out too much hope for that. At least, though, he wouldn’t find out until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

And she would have one more opportunity to tuck away another special memory of the man who’d always occupied a special place in her heart.

“Thank you, Lord Haywood. I’d be delighted to accompany you tomorrow.”

His face lit in a relaxed smile, as if he were truly pleased that she’d agreed to go with him.

“You’ve made me the happiest of men,” he said with a slight bow. “Until tomorrow, then.”

“Yes. Tomorrow.”

Celie entered the ballroom amid the curious stares of the onlookers who’d seen her talking to Lord Haywood. A sudden rush of pleasure warmed her. Let them think what they wanted. The illusion that a handsome nobleman was courting her was a fantasy she enjoyed.

She suddenly felt years younger than her three and twenty years. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she was almost giddy with a strange sense of excitement.

Celie had always prided herself on keeping her feet planted squarely on the ground—even when her head floated in the clouds. She wouldn’t let her emotions run wild. She wouldn’t allow herself to imagine anything more than what was obviously the purpose behind Lord Haywood’s attention toward her, which was to curb any talk of a renewed battle between her brother and the Earl of Haywood. That was the reason he’d turned to her first. That and nothing more.

Celie searched the crowd for Amanda. Instead, she came face-to-face with her brother.

“What did he want?” Hadleigh’s angry glare followed Haywood as he made his way back through the ballroom.

“To say hello.”

“Stay away from him, Cecelia. I’m warning you.”

Celie turned her head and looked into her brother’s hostile countenance.

She graced him with a smile she far from felt. “I refuse to argue with you here, Your Grace. I’m ready to go home. Are you?”

He nodded sharply, then offered her his arm.

Celie placed her fingers on his rigid muscles and walked with him toward the door. He’d seen her alone with Haywood, and he was furious.

Celie couldn’t keep a smile from her face. The euphoric feeling engulfing her wouldn’t allow a hint of regret to surface.

Whether her brother approved of her being with the Earl of Haywood or did not held no consequence tonight. Not when she felt so young and free and…pretty.

Celie accompanied her brother out of the ballroom. They bid Lord and Lady Plimpton farewell, then waited while their driver brought their carriage round.

The drive home was silent. Hadleigh sat in the corner of the carriage with his hands crossed over his chest in an unyielding grip and sported a scowl on his face. Celie had no intention of telling him that she’d accepted an invitation to go for a drive with Lord Haywood. She knew better.

He confirmed her decision when they alighted in front of their town house.

“I hope you don’t intend to make a habit of associating with Haywood,” he said, in a tone similar to that of an order.

“Unfortunately,” she said, giddy with a bravado that still lingered from earlier, “I’m past the age where you can tell me with whom I can or cannot associate. And if you knew me even a small bit, Sterling, you’d know that the surest way for me to do what you
don’t
want me to do is to tell me that I can’t do something.”

Celie turned on her heel and stepped away from her brother before he had a chance to respond.

The smile she wore refused to fade as she made her way up the stairs and to her room.

Chapter 3

J
onah arrived at Hadleigh’s town house shortly before five and carefully stepped down to the cobblestone street. He handed the carriage reins to a waiting footman, then took a few seconds of feigned interest in the impressive stone structure to allow the pain in his side to ease.

He was paying for the hours he’d been on his feet last night. But the end result had been far better than he’d feared it might. He’d received several invitations today and seemed to be well on his way to taking his rightful place in society.

He leaned the slightest bit to the right to stretch the tight skin around the healing saber wound in his left side, then made his way up the short walk that led to the entrance. Hadleigh’s butler, Fitzhugh, opened the door before he could reach for the knocker.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Lord Haywood,” Fitzhugh said in greeting.

Jonah looked into the familiar face. He’d once been a frequent guest of Hadleigh’s, but that had been a lifetime ago, before Melisande’s death. Before he’d left for the war in the Crimea.

Before his life had been permanently altered.

“My sympathies on your father’s and brother’s deaths,” Fitzhugh said, taking Jonah’s hat and gloves.

“Thank you, Fitzhugh. I only regret that I wasn’t here for them in the end.”

“All of us here at home appreciate the contribution you made for your country.”

“Thank you, Fitzhugh.”

The butler nodded, then stepped to the side. “Lady Cecelia will be right down. If you’ll follow me.”

Fitzhugh led Jonah to a room off the hall. The room was done in rich shades of burgundies and had a homey feel to it. Jonah felt comfortable here. But he always had. When he’d been a welcome guest.

A marble fireplace took up a large part of the far wall, and he slowly made his way across the room. A large portrait hung above the mantel, and Jonah locked his hands behind his back and stared at the painting of a young Sterling, a younger Lady Cecelia, and their parents, the former Duke and Duchess of Hadleigh.

It was obvious that Lady Cecelia had inherited her mother’s wheat-colored hair and vibrant blue eyes. The duchess’s coloring was identical to Cecelia’s. Even her features resembled her mother’s.

They were both blessed with the same high cheekbones and small upturned nose, but the most remarkable similarity was the sharp, intelligent gleam in the duchess’s eyes. The artist had captured it to perfection.

Lady Cecelia had that same intelligent gleam.

Jonah doubted that Hadleigh and his father had ever gotten away with even the tiniest of lies. The all-knowing look in the duchess’s eyes said she probably realized what her husband was up to before he attempted it.

“They were a remarkable couple,” Lady Cecelia said from behind him.

Jonah slowly turned to watch her enter the room.

She wore a deep-lavender gown and a matching bonnet. The color accented the shimmering gold in her hair to perfection. Her gloves were a light gray and so was her parasol.

She was beyond lovely. She was beautiful. Meeting Lady Cecelia had been one of the most pleasant surprises of his life.

He’d expected an older version of the gangly, pesky girl she’d been the last time he’d seen her. Instead, he found her to be a sharp-witted, intelligent young lady who possessed a certain confidence he admired, as well as a strength of character he found refreshing.

He looked at her and smiled. He should have realized any sister of Hadleigh’s would never be demure or lacking in spirit. Hadleigh would eat such a weak female alive.

Perhaps that was why she was still unmarried. Perhaps her strengths frightened off suitors. Well, she didn’t frighten him. Although he wouldn’t call himself a suitor. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what he was. He wasn’t brave enough to consider what he wanted his relationship to Lady Cecelia to be.

He wasn’t sure he’d like himself if he did.

Jonah tore his gaze away from her and glanced back to the portrait on the wall. “You look a great deal like your mother.”