The Wedding Runaway (39 page)

He turned around and looked her over
,
while she chewed her lip. Only his gaze on her mouth made her realize what she was doing. She never fidgeted or made faces. She forced herself to stop
,
but with her thoughts on her lips she remembered his kisses in the pouring rain. Everything about her turned liquid at the memory.

"
Come to badger me into escorting you to supper?
"

"
No
,
I had...another thing on my mind.
"
How could she ask him to...fix how she felt
,
to share the glow of her awakening
,
to repeat what had happened under the tree and take it farther. She looked down
,
struggling to find words to entice him to her bed
,
words that were safe to say out loud.

"
I would be happy to take you down to supper
,
if we do not sit with Wedmont.
"

Helena looked over her shoulder.
"
I do not know where he went.
"

Trevor
'
s expression went flat.
"
I see.
"

What did he see?

"
I do not know why I thought things would be any different this time.
"
He turned his shoulder to her
,
giving her a cut direct.

She stared at his back, wanting to reach out and smooth her hands over his jacket
,
under his jacket
,
under his shirt. Hurt burned in her breastbone
,
yet she knew she had upset him.

"
Oh, by the stars
,
I miss the rain
,"
she said.

He slowly turned back around
,
his expression intense.
"
There
'
s more to life than rain.
"

"
Yes
,
I am aware.
"
Her face heated as she thought of what had happened in the downpour.
"
Could we just have a civil conversation? There are things I want to say to you.
"

"
What things?
"

"
I cannot speak so forthrightly here.
"
She glanced around looking to see if anyone was close enough to overhear her. Her conversation thus far was dangerous enough.

He touched her forearm
,
causing pleasure to streak up her arm.
"
Stop. You look as if you plan to steal a loaf of bread in the baker
'
s shop.
"

"
I have never been inside a baker
'
s shop
,"
she said.

"
Yes
,
I know
,
and you are immensely proud of that fact.
"

She frowned. Proud? She just had never been in a one.
"
Since we are all here
,
I trust Major Sheridan was helpful, as you have been reunited with your sister. She looks much like you. Quite a lovely girl.
"

"
Major Sheridan brought us together
,
yes
,
but he refused compensation.
"

Helena winced
,
thinking how much disdain her mother would have for anyone mentioned money. Her parents thought it vulgar to discuss such matters in mixed company.
"
I do not think he does it for the remuneration. I am glad that all has worked out without incident.
"
Without scandal was what she meant.

"
And how is your father
'
s health?
"

"
Much the same
,
but at least no worse.
"
Helena swiveled, looking for her mother.

"
Are you afraid to be seen talking to me?
"

She turned back to him. He folded his arms across his chest. Her mother could hardly fault her for talking to Trevor
,
but she would not like it.
"
Yes. No.
"

Helena dropped her gaze to the floor, her cheeks burning. His sister
'
s admonition to not break his heart leapt into her head as encouragement to go forward with her plan.
"
Will you call on me tonight? After the servants are abed
,
I will put a candle in the library window when it shall be safe for you to knock. I shall let you in
,
so we may talk in private.
"

He made a noise of protest
,
and she lifted her eyes just in time to see horror cross his face. He mouthed a
"N
o.
"

Hope drained out of her, leaving her limp
,
exhausted and humiliated. Had she shocked him? Horrified him? Did he not want to speak to her in private? Did he not enjoy what had happened in the park? She wished for the floor to open up and swallow her whole if she had mistaken his intent.

She realized he was looking past her. Could he not even stand to look upon her?

"
Helena!
"
said her mother sharply.

Helena resisted the urge to bring her shoulders all the way to her ears and spun around and encountered her mother
'
s pinched expression. Oh, God
,
had she heard everything?

~*~

Victor found his way down to the bowels of the house
,
where his half-sister toiled in the kitchen with an apron over her ball gown. He grabbed her arm and led her out of the room
,
untying the apron strings as he went.

"
What are you about?
"
he asked.

"
I...brought eggs for soufflés and they needed help.
"
She gestured back toward the kitchen.

Felicity would probably resent the implication that her exemplary staff needed help. No doubt her excellent chef stolen away from Watier
'
s gentlemen
'
s club could manage soufflés.

He yanked the apron over Margaret
'
s head and tossed it to a footman. He marched her up the first flight of stairs
,
then the second
,
all the way to the top floor of the house
,
where the music was played.
"
Your place is in the ballroom.
"

Her disheveled state provoked his frown. He detoured down the passageway to the bedroom that had once been hers. He opened the door and pushed her inside. She yanked her arm out of his grasp.

"
Sit down
,
I shall repair your hair.
"
He pulled out a handkerchief and mopped the kitchen steam from her face
,
none too gently.

She stared at him as if he had gone mad. Perhaps he had.
"
What are you doing?
"

"
I
'
ll be damned if I let my only sister—or at least the only sister I know—labor away in the kitchen because she does not think she is good enough to dance in the ballroom.
"

She stared at him, shocked, as she sank down to a chair by the dressing table.
"
I don
'
t belong.
"

"
It
'
s one thing that you raise poultry for their eggs to keep yourself out of the poorhouse. I do not care who your mother was or what you have done
,
but you have the blood of twelve earls running in your veins
,
and a husband who is a gentleman. You do not need to be found among your chickens with a kerchief on your head. Hire laborers.
"

He proceeded to lecture her as he repinned her hair in a more elaborate style. Her rich dark hair with its own luxurious waves did not require more than his wrapping it around his finger to train a curl. So like his own and Keene
'
s and, for that matter, Regina
'
s. In fact
,
she and his daughter looked so much alike with their dark eyes and winged eyebrows
,
he had only to look at Margaret to get a glimpse of his daughter
'
s future beauty.

"
You chose this life
,
Diana Margaret Bartlett Bedford. You wanted to be a lady. So be a lady and for God
'
s sake tell your husband to stop calling you Meggie.
"

He looked at her simple ball gown and shook his head. He should have bought her better clothes
,
or at least shamed her fashionably dressed husband into taking a greater interest in his wife
'
s wardrobe.

She stared up at him
,
made meek by his sudden attention.

He leaned down next to her.
"
You have only to look to Keene or me for guidance if you are ever in need. I know we cannot acknowledge you publicly
,
but we are there as your brothers and champions if you need us.
"

She turned around and hugged him tight.

He patted her awkwardly on the back.
"
Go now
,
before you wrinkle your gown.
"

"
See, I am so bad at this
,"
she whispered.

He led her out of the bedroom and toward the ballroom. He tucked one last curl into place and decided he had done a satisfactory job
,
then looked toward the open doors of the ballroom where Lydia stood still as a deer in the forest after a twig snap. Her blue eyes were wide and wounded as she stared at him and his sister.

He drew up stiff. Bloody hell
,
he could wound Lydia just by assisting his sister.

Lydia put a hand to her left shoulder. And agony wrenched through him as he realized that was where he had shot her. Bloody hell
,
dragging her into his world had brought her nothing but pain. As surely as he stood there
,
he was destroying her. He knew he was only a cataclysm of pain for the women he cared about
,
and he knew the only way to avert the disaster was to cut her out of his life.

Yet
,
he continued toward her as if there were no other destination he would rather meet.

As he neared the ballroom doors and Lydia
,
Amelia glided toward them from inside the ballroom.

Lydia jerked her head away and turned to go back toward the dancing. Amelia stood just in her path.

"
Leonard?
"
said Amelia, shock and surprise draining the color from her face.
"
Oh, my
,
you are Leonard!
"

Bloody hell
,
how many people had heard Amelia?

Chapter Seventeen

Lydia stared at Amelia
,
wondering what else could go wrong this night. A few heads had turned in their direction after hearing her call out
,
"
Leonard.
"

"
Sophie did not warn you?
"
asked Lydia softly
,
but it was as much statement as question. Obviously Amelia had been startled when she recognized her.

Her hand over her heart
,
Amelia stared at Lydia, leaving her feeling like a freak
,
a two-headed calf or a two-tailed lizard.

"
Perhaps we should go downstairs
,"
said Victor.

Amelia shifted her attention from Lydia to Victor.
"
Why did you not tell me?
"
she demanded of him. She no longer seemed interested in Lydia
,
but her voice carried an undercurrent of hurt and betrayal.

He grabbed Amelia
'
s arm and pulled her away from the ballroom doors out into the passageway.
"
It did not occur to me that you of all people would create a scene
,
and you know I keep close any secret that might lead to scandal.
"

Then their voices dropped lower as they walked down the passageway. Victor had his arm around Amelia
'
s shoulders and their heads were close.

Lydia pressed her hand against her shoulder
,
the wound no doubt aggravated by all the motions of dancing. The sight of Victor with Amelia caused another ache to start nearer to her breastbone. He had all these beautiful women flitting around him
;
whatever made her think he would see her as special? She was too tall
,
too slender and too radical in her thinking.

If she was lucky
,
he might remember she existed at the end of the evening. Although he had a way of making her feel as if she were the center of the world when he stood in front of her. She looked in on the revelers
,
few of whom she knew.

She was an outsider
,
not only an American
,
but one who did not understand their ways. Across the floor, Trevor talked with Lady Helena. Oscar danced
,
partnering Lady Beauly. She studied her once-fiancé and watched as he flattered the English widow
,
and smiled and preened as he had once done with her.

If he was the least bit broken-hearted by Lydia
'
s refusal to marry him
,
he did not let it show. Of course
,
she knew that he still thought they would marry each other
,
when she came to her senses
,
and he would think that until he had satisfactorily replaced Lydia or wed her.