Chapter Ten
B rilliance couldn’t move, trapped between Lord Hewitt and the curtained window panes. But he stepped backward, swift as a hare. At the untimely interruption, disappointment trickled over her like cold rain. Almost certainly, he had been about to kiss her again, and she had been more than ready.
She waited, wondering in what way he would answer their hostess, while keeping her own mouth closed. After all, Brilliance didn’t owe anyone an explanation as Lord Hewitt was the one behaving oddly.
“The lady had something in her eye,” he said finally.
“Did she?” Lady Twitchard asked before fixing her glance on Brilliance. “Why don’t you come with me? If it’s an eyelash, I’ll use the end of my handkerchief to remove it.”
“Sometimes blowing hard works, too,” Brilliance said. “But my eye is fine.” She didn’t want to lie to their hostess and felt ashamed of Lord Hewitt for lying to his cousin.
“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to my room,” she said to Lord Hewitt, tapping her chest. He glared at her, but Lady Twitchard could not see his face.
Brilliance edged around him, nodded to their hostess, and hurried from the conservatory.
A mere three feet from the room, however, she turned back, recalling her need for something to repair the torn pages. Standing in the doorway, unnoticed yet not at all hidden, she was privy to her hostess’s first words.
“What was that all about?” her ladyship demanded of Lord Hewitt, her back to the door. “I’ve never had to worry about you trying to compromise any of my guests before.”
“I was not,” he declared, then noticed Brilliance had returned. He gestured with his head until Lady Twitchard turned.
“I am sorry to bother you, my lady, but would you have any glue?”
Her ladyship frowned, while Lord Hewitt’s eyes narrowed.
“No glue for her,” he said.
Lady Twitchard gawked at him. “You have lost all sense of civility. You will frighten the young lady.”
“Oh, no,” Brilliance defended him. “Even when he was chasing me around the piano, I wasn’t truly scared of him.”
“Chasing you around the —” Lady Twitchard broke off with a shake of her head. “Come along, Lady Brilliance. I will find you some glue. If not, perhaps sealing wax would work for your project.”
She took a few steps toward Brilliance before rounding upon her cousin.
“And you! Stay away from this sweet earl’s daughter, or you shall answer to me!”
Brilliance managed to stick the pages back together, fairly confident they were in the right order after matching up the torn edges. But there was nothing she could do with them except put them in her traveling trunk. If she returned to the conservatory, Lord Hewitt would, as likely as not, waylay her again.
It had occurred to Brilliance to ask Lady Twitchard whether she knew some reason for her cousin’s strange behavior, particularly regarding this popular musical piece. Yet that seemed rather sneaky. She would far prefer Lord Hewitt explained his actions to her directly, but that meant they needed to be alone once more, which was not the easiest to accomplish.
Putting the entire matter aside, she vowed to enjoy the party for the days that were left and be entirely agreeable to the nobleman in question. She even requested an entire bowl’s worth of assorted fruit, whatever was ripe, pleased to receive sliced melon, raspberries, and a couple of small peaches.
Self-consciously, she knocked upon his door and left the offering, knowing she couldn’t actually go in. The first time had been an honest mistake. Brilliance wouldn’t be able to claim that a second time. She would be truly a wanton woman.
However, she could — and would! — spy on him from the neighboring linen cupboard. After a few long moments, Lord Hewitt opened his door and nearly stood in the bowl. Then he looked up and down the hallway, making her gasp when his spectacled gaze seemed to land on her hiding place.
But all he did was shake his head, retrieve the fruit, and go back into his room.
The following day was a sporting day with bow-and-arrow competitions — another thing at which she wasn’t spectacular, although she managed to actually hit the straw target once in twelve tries. Afterward, all the guests played croquet again, seeing how there was a cooling breeze. After a light meal, many were going riding since the countryside was so lovely.
By then, Brilliance and Martine had decided a lengthy promenade would be fine as five pence. Having left the veranda, they were alone in the extensive terraced gardens.
“You like Lord Hewitt,” her friend said, not making it a question.
“I do,” Brilliance declared, seeing no reason to pretend otherwise in Martine’s confidence. “Isn’t he magnificent?”
“I do not know about magnificent ,” Martine said. “After all, I don’t know much about him at all. Do you?”
“Only that I fancy him above all others.”
Martine appeared shocked. “Does he feel the same?”
“I don’t know,” Brilliance confessed.
Martine sighed. “You haven’t told him, have you?”
Brilliance thought back to what she had said. “Not really.”
“But you wear your heart upon your sleeve more than anyone I know,” her friend chided. “He probably knows. Therefore, you mustn’t let him be alone with you or allow him to make any advances.”
Brilliance swallowed the words, Too late for both . Instead, she asked, “Why?”
“Country parties are far more relaxed than anything we do in London, don’t you agree?”
“I do.” They had far more freedom, not to mention opportunities for improper mischief, should both parties be agreeable. Unfortunately, Lord Hewitt had retreated since the last incident in the conservatory. Pleasant enough, yet he was managing to keep her at a distance.
Martine was still warning her. “Thus, he might take advantage of you in any number of places.”
Brilliance sighed, thinking of a few where she would be happy to oblige.
“He might ruin you,” Martine declared, halting Brilliance’s happy wool-gathering, “and then where would you be?”
“Perhaps his wife,” Brilliance said.
Martine stopped in her tracks. “We have but little time left. Even if we had another week, I would say that isn’t nearly enough time to get to know one another properly for considering a lifetime together. And if he is the type to get you alone and steal your virtue, then he is not the type who would offer his hand. I fear you would be at Fiddlestick’s end.”
“Do you really think so?” Brilliance hadn’t considered that possibility, not after he’d sent her from his room that first night. “He seems all square, as they say, although I am not sure why square means upright . Nonetheless, a true gentleman.” She paused, thinking of his captivating eyes and his devilish smile before adding, “A dash-fire, rum duke, to be sure, but also a gentleman.”
“Don’t you think that is what he wishes you to believe?”
This made Brilliance laugh. “No, I don’t think he cares what I believe. I think he simply wants to be left alone in the conservatory to play music.”
“Maybe he remains in there brooding, as a trap to lure you in.” Even Martine cracked a smile after uttering such a nonsensical statement.
And then, as if conjured by their words, Lord Hewitt came walking toward them.
“Well met,” Brilliance spoke first as soon as he was within a civilized distance.
“Good day, ladies,” he greeted them both. “You didn’t fancy riding, I take it.”
“No, my lord. Nor you, it seems?”
“I rode,” he replied, “but only as far as the village upon a brief errand, and now I intend to —”
Brilliance didn’t get to hear his lordship’s intent for Colonel Twitchard appeared from behind a tree as if he’d been waiting there all along.
“Just the man I wanted to see,” he said. “Good day, ladies. Come along, Hewitt. This way.”
Lord Hewitt appeared surprised by the encounter and by being summoned. However, he gave a shallow bow to Brilliance and Martine before heading off with their host.
Nearly that same scenario played out more than once over the next few days, when either Lady Twitchard or her husband would arrive a moment after Brilliance and Lord Hewitt entered into close proximity. Obviously, his cousin and her husband were attempting to keep them at a distance.
And it was beginning to annoy Brilliance. After all, their time under the same roof was limited and diminishing with each passing day. Taking matters into her own hands, she decided to come upon him when their hosts least expected it.
Thus, after supper, when they had all bid one another good night, she kept a watchful eye on Lord Hewitt. Wherever he went, she had decided to follow, even into his bedchamber.
Naturally, Martine was by her side as they headed toward the stairs with the other ladies in front and behind them. With relief, she saw Lord Hewitt slip into the conservatory instead of going up to bed. She could do nothing in that instant except appear to go to her room.
“Good night,” she said to Martine and wandered along the hallway toward her own bedroom door. Waiting until it seemed all the other female guests had retired, a mere two minutes, she turned back to the staircase, deciding to risk the terrible things her friend had warned her of — ruination and all that.
No one was on the stairs, thankfully, and Brilliance went directly to the conservatory, quietly pushing the door open. She stifled a gasp at seeing Lady Georgiana and Lord Hewitt standing so close they must be breathing the same breath.
Lady Georgiana was going up on tiptoe, and Brilliance stepped back, for she couldn’t bear seeing the frothy blonde’s mouth on her pianist!
She closed the door, and it made a loud snick that had her scrambling for a place to hide in case the conservatory’s occupants ventured out to see who might have been spying on their private moment.
Brilliance was shaking as she dashed across the hall to the open drawing room. Luckily, it was empty. Peering through the door’s hinge, she watched the conservatory door open quickly. Lord Hewitt appeared first, looking hither and yon, up the staircase and down the passageway toward the back of the manor.
He frowned. Then he reached behind him and yanked Lady Georgiana out into the open. She looked flushed and flustered, and Brilliance’s stomach sank. She knew that look, having worn it herself each time she’d been kissed by Lord Hewitt.
Her pianist!
“Go now,” he ordered, “before someone sees you.”
Lady Georgiana didn’t move. Instead, she lingered, which was a dangerous risk, then reached out her ungloved hand to stroke his cheek. Brilliance’s heart ached, realizing how completely she had assumed he was hers and that she was the only female who had caught his interest.
Lord Hewitt reared back out of reach. “Stop it. If someone comes now, we shall both miss the ball, and you’ll be sent back to London in disgrace.”
Brilliance shook her head. Those were the words he had used when telling her to leave his bedroom. Clamping her hand over her own mouth, she waited.
Lady Georgiana seemed to think that threat enough to finally get moving toward the stairs. She glanced around her once more before speaking. “I would not miss the ball and the opportunity to be in your arms for all the tea in China. Good night, my lord.”
With those words, she went unhurriedly up the stairs with her full skirts swaying suggestively. And Lord Hewitt watched Lady Georgiana all the way until Brilliance could no longer see her progress. Finally, he went into the conservatory and closed the door.
A part of her still wanted to follow him into that room. It would be a pathetic act, if she did, with Lady Georgiana’s perfume undoubtedly still hanging in the air and her spittle on his mouth. That thought soured Brilliance’s stomach.
It was not her place nor her right to offer a jealous tirade. Worse would be if he tried to calm her with seduction. Regrettably, she could well imagine yielding to his charms and letting him kiss her again.
Straightening, she considered what she was doing, hiding behind a door, spying through a crack. She was Brilliance Diamond, who never behaved in a sneaky fashion. What had come over her?
Yanking open the door, not caring how much noise she made, Brilliance stomped up the stairs and along the women’s wing to her room, slamming the door closed behind her.