The Most Wicked Of Sins (9 page)

“No, indeed.” Dominic did not look at her but addressed the tailors directly. “Shall I remove my clothing?” There was a slight grin upon his lips as he shrugged the coat from his shoulders and dropped it upon a chair beside the hearth. He turned and held her gaze as his fingers slid down upon the mother-of-pearl buttons of his waistcoat and released them one by one.

Ivy gasped as she unintentionally imagined Dominic removing his clothes. The heat in her cheeks doubled in intensity.

“I-I…will leave you to your work, kind sirs.” She was stammering like a fool. “I would greatly enjoy a view of the rear. The garden. What I meant was the garden in the rear of the house.”

Oh, good God. Leave now, Ivy. Just go.

“I will return shortly to discuss…” The two tailors, one on his knees before Dominic and other stretching a measuring tape across his broad shoulders, paused and looked up at her expectantly. Ivy could not seem raise her eyes and meet Dominic’s gaze. “To discuss…things.”

Oh that was brilliant.
In her humiliation, she was sure her face glowed like a hot coal.

Ivy spun around, and, as she retreated from the room, she thought she heard a chuckle from Dominic’s direction.

Clapping her hands upon her cheeks to cool them, Ivy raced from the room. How humiliating. She had made an utter fool of herself, gawking at him and fiercely blushing like a bride on her wedding night.

Suddenly, she had quite a fanciful notion as to why the parlor, without a hint of red, was called the crimson parlor.

Envy is like a fly that passes all the body’s sounder parts and dwells upon the sores.

Arthur Chapman

Two hours later
Berkeley Square

A hired hackney rolled up before the Counterton house on Berkeley Square, drawing Ivy to the parlor windows. “Thank heaven, Lachlan is here.”
p. Her brother Lachlan, like all of the other Sinclair brothers, was an exceptionally tall and well-muscled man, and he had to bend slightly at the waist to step down from the cab. He reached and offered his hand to someone still inside as the driver removed a leather bag from the perch and set it down beside him. Ivy leaned closer to the window, squinting her eyes against the golden afternoon light until she recognized the tall, slender woman lifting the hem of her blue silk gown to step down to the street. It was her sister, Siusan.

As her two siblings climbed the steps to the pavers before the house, Ivy spun around to Dominic, who was sitting across from the useless footman, Felix, in a lyre-back chair. The most bored expression dressed his far-too-handsome face.

“Before we left this morn,” Grant said, “it occurred to me that Lord Counterton might wish to borrow a few Town suits until the tailors have completed his. I asked Poplin to stir up a few of my own clothes for him. Lachlan said he’d deliver them. Seems he’s brought Siusan along with the clothes.”

Dominic came to his feet. “Forgive me, but I do not understand what is deficient about what I am wearing if we are only going to take tea in the garden.”

“Nothing at all if you are a performer at the Bartholomew Fair,” Ivy murmured to herself. Since the footman made no effort to stand to answer the door, Ivy gave an exasperated huff and started for the passage herself. She opened the door before Lachlan could slam down the brass knocker and, clasping their arms, hurried her two siblings inside.

“I cannot thank you enough for coming to help us. He’s in the parlor.”

Grant spied the portmanteau in Lachlan’s hand. “Bring that too, Lach. When you see our friend, you’ll know why I asked Poplin to send something appropriate for day.”

“His clothing cannot be as bad as all that. You have always been one to exaggerate, Ivy,” Siusan was whispering, as they strode into the parlor and beheld Dominic. She stopped the moment she saw Dominic and Felix and gave her head a shake. “A dark coat? Yes, I can see why you are so concerned,” she said, sarcasm licking her words.

“What?” Ivy realized then that Lachlan and Siusan were looking at Felix. “No, no, no.
He
is the footman,
supposedly.”
She stepped forward, took Dominic’s arm, and drew him to her sister.
“This
is my Lord Counterton.”

Siusan covered her mouth to stifle a laugh as she noticed the brightly hued, somewhat-too-tight apparel.

If Dominic bristled, his countenance did not show it.

Grant stepped up beside them and claimed the honor of introduction. “Allow me to introduce you both to Dominic Sheridan, the Marquess of Counterton. Lord Counterton, my sister, Lady Siusan, and brother, Lord Lachlan.”

“Lady Siusan, it is an honor to meet you,” Dominic said in that low, resonant voice of his. He took her hand gently in his, bent over it, and placed a kiss atop her glove.

Siusan’s eyes grew lazy, and she brought her hand up and laid it atop her collarbone and curtsied. “The honor is entirely mine, Lord Counterton.”

“And you, Lord Lachlan.” Dominic stepped toward Lachlan and reached out for his hand.

“I shall pass on the hand kissing, if you do not mind.” With an cheeky grin, he tipped his head in greeting.

Ivy, who watched the introduction of her sister with a blend of fascination, and maybe a wee bit of jealously too, broke in. “Dears, he is not truly Lord Counterton, Su. Don’t you recognize him? He is the actor you recommended.”

Su became instantly confused. “No, no, no.” She gestured to the footman.
“He
is the actor I saw at the Drury Lane—the lead—and recommended to you.” She looked at Dominic, and a slow flirtatious smile eased across her mouth. “But, oh my, Ivy, magnificent casting, I must say.”

“The footman…this footman…is the actor you saw?” Ivy jerked her head around and studied Felix. Now that she looked at him, really saw him, she could see how Su might have thought he was ideal for the role of Counterton. He was tall, like Dominic, had dark, wavy hair and a lean, athletic build. They actually looked similar in many ways. But Dominic was the superior selection for the role. He was so much more…well, everything.

“I admit, I am not privy to the details of these goings-on”—Felix’s eyebrows shot upward and several lines dug into his forehead—“but am I to understand that
I-I
was being considered for this role?” He skewered Dominic with his gaze. A flicker of a smile crossed his lips before he returned his attention to the women, “The role of Lord Counterton? Truly” He looked excitedly from Siusan to Ivy, waiting for a confirmation.

Ivy struggled to come up with words. “Err…I suppose my sister’s description could have fit you both,” she said. “But it is my opinion that ‘Dominic’ is perhaps better suited for the role.”

Surprisingly, Felix nodded. “I must agree with you, Lady Ivy, but I think I would have carried the role splendidly.”

“Aye, be that as it may…” Grant, who had been observing the entire exchange, took his portmanteau from Lachlan and set it down beside Dominic. “Lord Counterton,” he said, with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Inside there should be two sets of clothing, both suitable for day.” Grant drew closer to Dominic and tugged at his sleeve, which even Ivy could see was too short, then circled around him. “I think you’ll find that my wardrobe will fit you well enough. The only differences in our measure might be an inch in height.”

“An inch is not so great that I cannot hide the difference in my boots,” Dominic said, gesturing to his feet.

“Hoby?” Grant asked, glancing down at Dominic’s footwear with sudden interest.

“Yes, they are!” Felix was beaming. “They are new.”

Grant grinned, and Ivy could see the amusement in his eyes. “You know quality then. Felix, is it?”

“Thank you, Lord Grant,” he chirped, “and, yes, Mister Felix Dupré, late of The Theater Royal Drury Lane.” He gave Grant a sweeping bow.

Dominic, who clearly felt uneasy with this whole borrowing of clothing, took the portmanteau. “I shall return in a moment or two since I know Lady Ivy has been looking forward to taking tea all morning.”

“I shall assist you with your neckcloth, Your Lordship,” Felix announced and, for an instant, Ivy could actually imagine him as a true valet.

The moment the two men ascended the stairs, Siusan and Ivy rushed together, grasped each other’s hands, and squealed like little girls.

“Ivy, he is absolutely gorgeous—and la, I don’t think I have ever said those words about a man!”

Ivy bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement. “I know. He is perfect, exactly the sort of gentleman I need to woo Miss Feeney away from Tinsdale. But in truth, I cannot refrain from staring at him, which is highly embarrassing. La, my cheeks have been burning since the first moment I saw him, which is quite nonsensical. Not only did I engage him for the sole purpose of winning back Tinsdale—but he is also…well, an
actor.
”

“Och, so he is an actor. Dinna fash about the way he sets your toes tingling. He is handsome; there is no denying that. Your reaction is completely natural,” Su told her. “I felt a little warm myself when he kissed my hand. Besides, the more infatuated you appear with him, the more Miss Feeney will want to steal him away from you.”

Ivy hugged Siusan to her. “My dear sister, you are completely right.”

Grant shook his head. “No, you are
both
completely mad.”

The Garden of Eden Tea Garden
Marylebone

Dominic looked up and saw both Lady Ivy and Lady Siusan intently watching him as he took a bit of cake into his mouth from his fork. He froze, fork still in the air, then hurried to swallow his cake down. “Is something amiss?”

Ivy shook her head. “Not at all.” She turned and whispered to Siusan. “He eats so very well, does he not?”

“Almost as if he has been doing it all of his life,” Grant said beneath his breath.

Lachlan snared Ivy in his gaze. “This is absurd, Ivy. The man clearly does not need training in table manners.”

“Lachlan is quite right, Ivy,” Siusan supported. “Why, it is not as if he grew up in a hovel in Cheap-side.”

“I am well aware of that,” Ivy snapped at her sister. She smiled at him. “Your manners are impeccable.”

“Thank you kindly, Lady Ivy.” Dominic set his fork on the edge of plate and folded his hands in his lap. “I do try. Really, I do.” Once his point was made, he lifted his fork and broke off another bite of cake.

Ivy forced a chuckle at the ridiculousness of her thought to bring him to the tea garden for a lesson in table etiquette. It was only that she desperately wanted her plan to succeed, and she did not wish to leave anything to chance. But then, Siusan’s passing comment about his upbringing began to nip, and her curiosity got the better of her. She felt compelled to ask. “Actually, I do not believe I know where your family is from, Dominic…I mean, Lord Counterton.”

He lifted a single eyebrow but took his time chewing the bite he had just taken before swallowing to reply. Dominic smiled, a lift of his lips in which Ivy thought she might detect a bit of mischievousness. “I was born and raised in the hamlet of Averly, near Lincolnshire—until I was packed off to school.”

“Lincolnshire, eh?” Grant seemed surprised. “Imagine that. I have a fine ear, but I do not detect the dialect at all.”

Siusan waved her hands to quiet her brother. “Probably worked it off of him at school. Shrewsbury, I would wager. The school’s known for sanding down the rough edges of its students.”

Dominic leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Very good, Lady Siusan. I am quite impressed.”

Ivy huffed at that and leaned in over the edge of the table. “As am I,” she whispered. “That you were taken in by his story. The true Lord Counterton hailed from Averly near Lincolnshire and was schooled at Shrewsbury—not
him.
”

Dominic laughed. “But I am Lord Counterton, Lady Ivy.” He uncrossed his arms and leaned across the tiny tea table until his nose nearly touched Ivy’s, and whispered to her, “Is not that what we agreed?”

Ivy’s mouth dropped open for an instant before she had the wit to snap it shut again. “Touché, my lord.”

This all struck Grant as being very amusing, and he laughed a little too loudly. Siusan burst forth giggling like a besotted miss, clapping her hands enthusiastically.

“Well done,” Lachlan exclaimed, before adding, in a confidential tone, “I honestly believed you, man.”

“And so you should.” Dominic came to his feet, and, placing one hand atop his stomach and the other behind his back, he bowed to each of them, exactly like the stage actor he was, in truth, before resuming to eat.

Siusan, Lachlan, and Grant laughed even louder.

Ivy did not. Dominic was not being the least bit diverting. In all honesty, he was on the verge of destroying any chance of her plan working—because everyone around them was now looking at him! He, and her brothers and sister, had drawn the attention of nearly everyone at the tea garden.

Suddenly, she saw an older woman rise from her table and lift a quizzing glass to her eye.

Oh dear. Lady Winthrop.
And she was not alone.

“Dominic,” she tried to whisper, but her warning came out more like a hiss. “Behind you. It’s—”

It was too late. Ivy clamped her mouth shut and felt the blood rushing from her head.

Dominic stared at Ivy, his eyes wide. She didn’t know if it was because of the ghostly pallor she was sure her face must be taking on or because, somehow, he’d taken her warning. He set his fork down and slowly rose from his chair, just as Lady Winthrop and three other matrons arrived at the table. He reached for Lady Winthrop’s hand and raised it, pressing a quick kiss atop her gloved knuckles. “Lady Winthrop, how good it is to see you again. Lovely day for tea out-of-doors, is it not?” To her astonishment, despite the look of shock upon his face only seconds ago, he now presented himself with poise and charm in abundance, as if meeting Lady Winthrop was the most delightful event in his day.

Siusan was looking at Ivy in a most startled manner, even if Dominic was not, and whisked up her cutwork fan and began to wave it madly before Ivy’s face. “You are so pale. Are you ill?” she whispered.