Twice Fallen (18 page)

Lily stared at him with open consternation. “How could none of us know you were courting someone?”

Courting was not particularly the way to describe his relationship with Regina Daudet, but he intended for that to change. “I can be discreet.”

“I could swear the duchess knows
everything
,” Lily objected on a mutter. Her gown this evening was pale yellow silk, which suited her, emphasizing the richness of her hair. “She would have mentioned it, considering our familial relationship, if she’d heard the slightest whisper.”

“Apparently she
doesn’t
know everything and I am
just as glad to not be the object of her scrutiny. Lily, any notion of what I should do?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled then, her face lighting in a natural way he hadn’t seen in a long time. “I’m very happy for you.”

That was premature. This experience could end up being a lesson in misery unless he could persuade Regina to disregard what she saw as barriers between them, the main problems being her blasted independence and the difference in their ages. He didn’t care about the potential ramifications of society’s censure over their unorthodox romance. He cared about
her
. “Thank you, but reserve the congratulations until the lady is won. The gift?”

His cousin frowned and pressed her lips together, obviously thinking. “I don’t know much about art,” she said slowly, “but if that is her passion, I do think that is the direction you should go.”

“I’d thought of that already,” James said with a sigh, “but how does one give a very talented artist a painting? I know what pleases me in an aesthetic sense, but quite frankly, her work is far above anything I could afford to purchase for her.”

“It hardly has to be a painting. What about a piece of sculpture or a small statue?” She brightened. “I know someone who bought a piece recently from a shop that specializes in antiquities; the owner was an archeologist of some renown at one time. It’s lovely and very old. Greek, I think, or Roman, and though it is a bit chipped and faded, one can tell it was beautifully made.”

Actually, that was a sound idea. Perhaps even a brilliant
one. Regina already had an eclectic collection of artifacts, including the menacing mask in her bedroom. James leaned over and kissed Lily’s cheek. “I knew you were the right person to ask. Do you know the address of this establishment?”

“Er… no, I’m afraid not, but I can ask for you.”

He knew his cousin quite well and her tone spoke volumes. He groaned theatrically. “Let me guess, the duchess is the ‘someone’ you know that purchased this intriguing piece. Tell me, how are you going to explain your sudden interest in ancient statuary?”

“I will leave your name out of it, rest assured.” Lily’s smile was mischievous. “Unless you wish for her to accompany you and help select the gift? She’d like nothing more than to assist with you winning your lady love.”

“I’m going to respectfully decline.” He grinned. “She needs to be free to focus her considerable talents on you.”

“Thanks,” Lily murmured gloomily. “Sir George is no doubt going to be in my pocket all evening.”

“What about Northfield?” He’d heard, of course, that the man had called and even brought flowers. Apparently the interlude in the library had made an impression on the duke’s brother.

Lily blushed. It was slight, just a small pink tinting her face, but James noticed. Yet she shook her head. “I don’t think his interest is serious in any way.”

He disagreed from a purely male perspective. Lily might not be fashionably blond, or even conventionally beautiful, but she was very attractive nonetheless, and he’d escorted her to enough events that he knew men admired
his pretty young cousin, though some of them were no doubt intimidated by her intellect. It was a damned shame Sebring had wrought such havoc on her life.

Gently, he said, “If you don’t want George, don’t settle for him, Lil. On the other side of the coin, if you
do
want Northfield, you should consider giving him an indication you would not be averse to his suit.”

To his surprise, she immediately shook her head and said quietly, “No. I have no intention of repeating a disastrous mistake.”

B

Damien brushed a stray bit of cookie from his knee, not caring quite so much for the spot on his tailored breeches as for the sudden attention directed his way. “Lady Lillian?” he said as if he’d never heard of her.

Or hadn’t thought about her quite a bit lately, especially when he considered their last less-than-satisfying conversation.

All in all, he’d rather have that than nothing.

“Lillian Bourne,” Brianna, his older brother’s wife, said pointedly.

Frederick, his nephew, who had deposited the offending crumb, ran back into the room in a whirlwind of small arms and legs, a clumsy spaniel puppy, a footman, and a nanny following in an apologetic rush, snatched yet another cookie off the tray, and Damien had to suppress a laugh at the exhibition of three-year-old exuberance as they made just as ebullient an exit. The future duke had quite a lot of energy.

“He’s a trial.” Brianna sighed, watching her son and his entourage. “I’ve told them to just make sure Freddie
doesn’t break too many valuable objects, including himself. This room survived his latest visit, but it doesn’t always go so well.”

“Colton agreed to a dog?”

“Colton doesn’t know. If he doesn’t notice it, that is his fault. Now, then, can we get back to the fair Lady Lillian?”

Lillian
was
fair, actually. A true English beauty with flawless skin and those blue eyes… not to mention what intrigued him even more was her utter lack of coquetry. He was well beyond the superficial rituals that spelled a budding romance in the
haut ton
. So was she apparently, for despite that she was at least a decade younger than him and leagues less proficient in intrigue and deception, she had nonetheless a guarded soul.

There was more to her affair with Sebring than met the eye, but he still hadn’t discovered just what had happened.

“I confess I am not sure just what you’re asking.”

Brianna said with audible censure, “Come, Damien, do not pretend like you did not call on her last week. I read the gossip sheets.”

“Do you?”

“Most everyone does. Now, then, tell me about her.”

Truth was, he was extremely fond of his older brother’s wife. Brianna not only possessed beauty and poise, but she was remarkably free-spirited. He watched her lean forward and pour him another cup of tea, her movements graceful, but her gaze, when she offered the steaming beverage, was openly curious.

“What it is you want to know?”

“You could start with what it is that makes her so exceptional you’d notice her.”

He accepted the delicate porcelain cup
and saucer and wondered where the devil Colton might be. A fellow male might save him from this interrogation. “Aren’t gentlemen supposed to call upon pretty young ladies?” he asked blandly. “I admit I am out of touch with how it is all done.”

“Hmm.” His sister-in-law narrowed her eyes, seated on a Queen Anne–style settee, her normally slender figure draped in a less fitted gown in deference to her pregnancy. Brianna was a dazzling beauty, but her looks had never influenced her candid personality. Damien was always amused at how she balanced his normally reserved brother. Their marriage was a lesson in how opposites did, indeed, attract. She lifted her cup, took a genteel sip, and then said bluntly, “You always get that look when you are hiding something.”

“What look?” He took two lumps of sugar, stirred the steaming tea with a silver spoon, and lifted his brows.

“Well, there isn’t one.” Her tone held a humorous edge. “That’s the entire point. You go absolutely expressionless, as if you have no idea what I’m referring to when I know full well you do.”

“Do I?”

“Ah, parry a question with a question. Is that how it works? I shall have to take notes in case I ever wish to keep a deep, dark secret.”

He really couldn’t help but laugh. “I think you already have, or so I’ve heard. It seems to me you purchased a scandalous book written by an infamous courtesan and then proceeded to turn your husband’s world upside down while beguiling him with her advice.”

The distraction worked, as she indignantly set her cup and saucer down on the polished table and her cheeks turned a definite pink. “I cannot believe he told you that.”

“Actually, he was rather enthusiastic about your ingenuity, and the result of your clever plan is evidence that it worked beautifully. He’s never been so content. Colton is happy and I, for one, thank you for it, even if the idea was more than a little outrageous for a supposedly refined duchess.”

“Damien!”

The way she said his name made him smile. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with your daring approach. My older brother is not an easy man to understand, and yet you are doing an admirable job of turning him into a real human being.”

She sat up very straight and then cleared her throat, still blushing. “Thank you. I am still irritated with him that he told you about
Lady Rothburg’s Advice
, but then again, I suppose you are rather close.”

It was odd, but he hadn’t ever thought of his relationship with Colton in that way. Were they close? He supposed so, as they were just a year apart in age and their father had died young, leaving Colt a duke and Damien a ducal heir, the responsibility cumbersome. He’d responded by attending to his assignments in Spain, playing the spy, and leaving his older brother to shoulder all the duties alone.

After a moment, Damien said, “I suppose we are.”

Brianna laughed. “While you do not seem similar on the surface, you and Colton remind me of each other very much. He is also very reluctant to share his feelings.”

“I’m not—” He stopped, arrested by the womanly knowledge of her smile. Then inclined his head. “Your point is made.”

“I think you should take the scandal surrounding Lady Lillian with all the due weight of the pettiness of the
ton
behind it.”

“Your advice is invaluable, though I admit in this case not necessary.”

Brianna gazed at him, her eyes direct and curious. “Why not? Are you not interested?”

“Interested?”

“In Lillian Bourne.” She paused. “I don’t mean to insult you, but I thought you’d be above common gossip.”

That was lovely. His own family was not only monitoring his personal life, but also passing judgment. He could live without it, but that said, it was impossible to really explain what he was feeling. Even
he
didn’t understand his motives.… Maybe he was just caught in the web of the instinctive curiosity he felt over Sebring. Maybe it was Lily’s underlying vulnerability, and maybe it was just
him
.

And his infernal habit of looking for intrigue, even where maybe none existed.

“I don’t know if I am interested or not.” That was the truth. He was attracted to Lily, but it was possible it was primarily because she wasn’t an insipid debutante but had a bit of a past.

Bland had never held much of an appeal for him.

“Good.” Brianna selected an éclair from the tray.

“How can that possibly be good?” He was admittedly mystified.

“Because that means you have given it some thought,
and if you have given it thought, you are
definitely
interested, which is exactly what I hoped to hear.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Give it time.”

He couldn’t help but be fascinated as his sister-in-law ate the pastry in an amazingly swift time even though it was sizable.

“I can’t help it,” she informed him, inelegantly licking her fingers, her eyes alight with laughter as she noticed his expression. “I am growing a child. It seems to make me inordinately hungry.”

A deep voice spoke. “I can attest to that.”

Both of then turned to look at the doorway, Damien noting his brother had a slight, uncharacteristically indulgent smile on his face. Colton leaned against the doorjamb, his attire as impeccable as ever but his pose relaxed.

He went on in a dry tone. “I have gone barefoot in my dressing gown to the kitchen in the middle of the night to pilfer the oddest items from the pantry, including pickled eggs, day-old scones, cured ham, and in the midst of the latest robbery I tripped over one extremely disgruntled cat that I do not remember giving the cook permission to allow to live here in the first place.”

“She adores that cat,” Brianna said without apology. “And all the surrounding countryside envies you her cooking skills, so just apologize to Lord Phineas when you encounter him next on your prowls.”

“It’s my house,” Colton said ineffectually, straightening. Then he muttered, “Is
that
really the blasted creature’s name?”

“It suits him, don’t you think?”

Colton gave a sound that could have been a very undignified snort. “My impression is hardly that he is of aristocratic descent. The feline was rather mangy, or it could be I was simply distracted by the claws in my ankle.”

“Careful, darling, lest Cook hear of you disparaging her pet.” Brianna rose in a graceful swirl of silken skirts. “Now, if you excuse me, I believe Damien came to see you anyway and I am unreasonably sleepy all at once.”

Colton kissed his wife before she left the room, nothing passionate—just a brush of his lips on her brow, but his hands lingered at her waist before he smiled and stepped back.

And briefly, Damien wondered what it would be like to touch the woman who had conceived your child, to share that knowing look between you, to anticipate the arrival of the babe that was part of you both.…

That had never occurred to him before.

To say he was startled was an understatement.

“I’m pleased, of course, you chose to come to Rolthven.” Colton chose Brianna’s seat, his tall body taking up much more of the settee. He eyed the tea trolley. “I see my wife has devoured all the éclairs. Why am I not surprised? How long will you be staying?”