Chapter 20
I read in one of the Ladies’ Journals that men are often attracted to women who are hard to get. As I’ve exhausted my limited knowledge on the subject and Moira’s books will not bear usefulness until I succeed, I suppose I have no choice but to give it a try.
––––––––
“Allow me, my lady,” Hobbes said, holding her frock coat so Fiona could slip her arms in.
While it was cut in the simple, smooth lines she preferred with the wide cuff of the modest leg-o-mutton sleeve ending just above her elbows, the femininity of the pink and yellow rose print and dangling greenery against the ecru silk moiré background somehow suited her mood that day.
The narrowed lapels of the frock coat framed a deep V down to the two jeweled frogs clasping at the narrowest part of her waist, partially revealing Fiona’s white silk blouse and tight, corset-style ecru satin vest beneath.
Below the frog closures, the thigh-length frock coat parted again in a mirrored V to show off the front panel of her ecru lace skirt.
The skirt was hemmed with a wide lace ruffle, and an underskirt of mossy green, brushed cotton peeked from beneath the scalloped hem.
At her neck, she wore a cameo broach that had been her mother’s. From the bottom of it, yellow diamonds and peridot dangled from a series of delicate chains.
The entire ensemble was uncommonly feminine considering Fiona’s usual tastes, for once displaying outwardly what was normally hidden beneath, but she was feeling uncommonly girlish that day.
Nearly giddy, in fact, as she accepted her hat from the butler and turned to pin it on.
The satin dome was surrounded by pale pink gathered gauze with silk roses to match her frock coat and surrounded by a starched lace brim.
Her ivory gloves with embroidered trim came next. She pulled the fingers into place with a merry whistle and reached for the matching parasol.
Through the open door, a lovely breeze beckoned her to enjoy the late spring day. Their waiting line of broughams sat with their tops down in anticipation of the fine weather and her brothers laughing in tandem to the birdsong drifting on the breeze.
“There you are, my lady,” Hobbes continued, handing it over. “You look as fresh as a summer morning.”
She beamed at the butler, ignoring the blush she knew must be adding a rosy hue to her cheeks. “Thank you, Hobbes. That is so sweet!”
Hobbes winced and added more gravely. “I hope you enjoy the spectacle.”
“You don’t approve?” she asked with a grin. The entire family was going to the opening of the Empire of India Exhibit on the grounds of the Earl’s Court. “Is it the unsavory crowds or the foreign displays you find unseemly?”
“All of it, my lady.”
“What doesn’t he approve of?” Ilona asked, joining Fiona in the foyer. The butler turned away and snapped his fingers to call up Ilona’s accessories.
Fiona grinned, sure she had seen the older man’s ears redden. “I believe Hobbes considers our outing to be inappropriate.”
“Really?” Ilona asked with wide-eyed innocence as Hobbes returned with all the accessories to match her light ivory linen and tape lace dress. “It’s a cultural exhibit, you know, Hobbes?”
“It is a carnival, madam.”
The two women traded a laugh. “Have you been that you know this for certain?” Fiona asked playfully.
“I know everything, my lady.”
“Everything?” she teased, but the butler only lifted a brow, and at that moment, she would almost have sworn that he did know everything.
It was impossible, of course, but Fiona felt her blush recommence anyway.
“Don’t feel you need to wait on me, Ilona.
My new maid forgot to bring down my reticule. I’ll be out in a moment.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Ilona told her, lowering her voice as Hobbes stepped away to await their other sisters-in-law, who had yet to appear. “I’m glad to see you in such a fine mood. I wager I know the reason for it.”
Fiona’s cheeks burned yet again. “I’ll wager you do not.”
“Oh, is it not Lord Aylesbury then? There is a fire in your eyes when you look at him,” Ilona pointed out. “The same fire that is lacking with Lord Ramsay.”
“Please, Ilona,” Fiona begged. “How can you think I care for Lord Aylesbury when I invited Lord Harrowby to join us today?”
Admittedly, she had considered Aylesbury first, but their undeniably rapturous encounter had left her feeling more vulnerable than usual.
While she liked Lord Temple very much, she had instead asked Harrowby to attend her.
Though she didn’t know him well, she gathered that she was less likely to wound the feelings of such a resolved bachelor and rake if her interest wasn’t engaged.
“Yes, you did. Why is that?”
“Oh no, please do not say another word!”
“He looks at you the same way, you know,” Ilona added. “All that wonderful heat and desire. That is how a man should look at a woman. There, I said it, and I will speak no more of it.”
Fiona groaned inwardly. “You’d be the only one. Go to your husband! Colin looks so very lonely without you.”
Both ladies turned and looked out the door where all the MacKintosh men were talking and laughing with an occasional backslap between them.
“He does appear heartbroken, doesn’t he?
Poor dear.” Ilona grinned at her husband with open adoration.
As if he could feel her gaze, Colin’s eyes drifted to hers and held before he winked roguishly.
Colin jerked his head, indicating that Ilona should come to him, but Ilona only shook her head with a sassy smile and waved him off.
“For Heaven’s sake, Ilona. Go to him. You know you want to.”
“I shall always want to,” Ilona agreed with a blissful sigh. “But if I surrendered to that inclination each time it struck me, I would simply have no life outside my own home and nary a friend left in the world besides him.”
That sounded just divine to Fiona, though she refrained from saying so.
She saw another man join her brothers from the corner of her eye. “That must be Harro—” No, that was black hair curling beneath that black derby, not blonde. “What is he doing here? I invited Harrowby to join me.”
She shot a fierce look at Ilona, who merely shrugged with a sunny smile.
“Let me guess.” Fiona scowled at Hobbes. “The post was somehow misplaced? I’m going to have to telephone my requests from here on out personally, aren’t I?”
“Don’t be angry with Hobbes,” Ilona said. “It was my idea. I’m a foolish romantic and just wanted you to be as happy as I am. Especially today.”
Fiona raised a brow at her sister-in-law. “Why especially today?”
“Oh, Fiona! Shall I tell you a secret?” Ilona looked ready to burst no matter what her reply. “If I do, you must be happy for me. Truly happy!”
Unable to resist the joy that was radiating from Ilona, she was already smiling. “What is it?”
“It has happened,” Ilona whispered with barely contained excitement. “I am finally to have a baby of my own.”
“Really?” Fiona gasped, grasping both of Ilona’s hands excitedly. “Are you certain? How wonderful,” she cried and embraced Ilona, only to have her sister-in-law shush her with a merry grin.
“Now, you mustn’t tell anyone,” Ilona reminded as they parted. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”
“Not even Colin? Oh, but you must. He’ll be over the moon.”
“As am I, but I did want to be sure before I said anything. Don’t worry, I’m certain he suspects. But there! Have I given you something to be happy for, my darling friend?” Ilona asked with a broad smile. “I simply must have your happiness right now.”
“I am. I am happy for you,” Fiona rushed to assure her, telling herself that the tightening in her chest and the burning behind her eyes was the result only of her overwhelming joy.
“Blossom! Come along already,” Connor called. “We want to be off.”
“There’s not a lick of patience among them,” Abby complained, leading the rest of the ladies down the stairs. There was a rush of activity in the foyer as footmen and maids brought in hats, gloves, and parasols for Abby, Eve, Moira, and Kitty.
Chatting merrily amongst themselves, one and all ignored the impatient calls from the street. Coline came dashing down the stairs, calling apologies as she hurriedly gathered her things from Hobbes and herded Fiona and Ilona out the door.
The men all turned, the married men casting loving smiles on their wives while the younger, unmarried lads nodded and leapt impatiently into the last of the four carriages lined up and waiting at the curb.
Aylesbury swept off his hat with a bow and broad smile that set Fiona’s heart racing and a blush warming her cheeks. It was almost too much to bear, facing him again after he had wrung such impassioned cries from her.
No doubt, he would be unforgivably smug, triumphant.
Glancing back over her shoulder for some assistance from Hobbes, the butler only nodded his approval and closed the door. It was a bloody conspiracy.
* * *
She was extraordinarily exquisite, Aylesbury thought as Fiona inched her way hesitantly to the carriage.
Only a smile on her face would have made her any more tempting.
From the way she was eyeing him so warily, she hadn’t known that he’d been invited for the day.
It was a lowering thought as he’d hoped she would have given up her reservations about him after their love play the previous night.
There had been no doubt in his mind that she would be a passionate lover.
Her temper, that touch of fire in her hair, told him that.
What he had never imagined was how deeply it would affect him.
He burned with satisfaction for pushing her to heights he knew she had never reached.
Apart from a simmering dissatisfaction for not being able to seize the opportunity to bury himself within those scalding depths and find his own release, he was eager to drive her to ecstasy again and again.
He'd thought she might be just as keen to do the same.
Given how she avoided his eyes, that was clearly not the case.
The other ladies were far more pleased to see him, greeting him merrily.
The devil inside drove Aylesbury to drop a kiss on Moira’s cheek and Abby’s, too, under the glowers of their husbands.
He might have done the same with Eve and Kitty, but Eve tended to strike him as too proper to accept it, and he simply didn’t know Kitty that well.
The four of them moved off to the front two carriages with their spouses, and Aylesbury turned, holding out his hand to help the two Mrs. MacKintoshs get into the third carriage.
He returned their greetings with a smile before turning to Fiona to do the same.
“Good morning, Lady Fiona,” he said pleasantly enough, though his gaze held just enough suggestion to tickle her ire.
He had found her weakness and intended to use it.
There would not be another retreat into stony silence.
“You are a treat for the eyes and,” he lowered his voice, “a temptation to the lips.”
She snorted indelicately. “While you, Lord Aylesbury, are simply a surprise.”
“I won’t ask if it is a pleasant one.”
“That would probably be for the best,” she responded tartly enough, though her lips twitched slightly when he laughed aloud.
Shaking her head, she treated him to the slim line of her back and lifted her skirts to climb into the brougham, displaying the sweet turn of her silk-covered ankles and a pair of oxfords covered in the same floral silk as her long frock coat.
Grinning at the sight, he climbed up after her.
With Coline on one side, she’d joined Ilona on the other.
Colin and Sean would likely wish to sit next to their wives, so he took the seat next to Coline across from Fiona.
The sun beamed down on her, the airy brim of her hat casting a vague shadow over the upper portion of her face.
Frowning, she lifted a hand to shade her eyes but did not employ the lace parasol she held with puzzled him. “New parasol?” he asked.
Fiona inclined her head with a quizzical look.
“How many do you have?”
“A few,” she answered as her brothers joined them, and the caravan of carriages was set in motion.
“Just a few?”
A becoming blush rose in her cheeks, and he smiled at the sight. “And shoes? How many?”
A pothole jolted the carriage before she could respond.
She dropped her parasol, and it tipped into the foot well between them.
They both leaned forward to retrieve it.
His hand wrapped over hers and held it briefly, his eyes dancing as they caught and held hers.
“Ah, Lady Fiona,” he murmured in a suggestively low baritone.
“Those feminine details do make a man wonder what other delights and lacy confections you might be hiding beneath those skirts.”
Her cheeks flamed then, and with a gasp, she raised her parasol, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He chuckled, knowing she would rather have beaten him soundly around the head and shoulders with it. “Careful now. You don’t want to ruin another.”
Ilona overheard him and smiled. “You needn’t worry about that, Lord Aylesbury. Fiona has a parasol for every day of the week.”
“Or month,” Colin added.
“Make it a year,” Sean called out as if they were bidding at the auction house.
“Sold,” Ilona cried, and everyone laughed.
Including Fiona. This time when their eyes met, there was real joy lighting them.
Though he’d witnessed her laughter several times since they met again, Aylesbury realized that this was the first time she laughed with him.
There’d been plenty of occasions where he’d seen her humor and smiles, but they weren’t his.
Not since he had been in Edinburgh two years ago had she shared that with him like she used to.
He had missed it.