Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Later
Valentina extended her arms overhead and felt a smile widen across her face as every muscle in her body lengthened in the most luxurious stretch of her life.
She froze, and her eyes flew open.
This wasn’t a dream.
She was really, truly luxuriating in the most comfortable bed she’d ever laid bottom upon, soft down feathers and crisp cotton sheets below her, a diaphanous coral canopy above. With bright sun filtering through ivory curtains, the room was soothing and lovely and not at all where she should be.
Judging by the light filtering through the sheer curtains, it was well past midday. Which meant she’d been sleeping here for hours.
And the man who had brought her here… Where was he?
A sound drifted through the air. Music. Piano music, to be precise. It was lovely, simple on the surface, but possessed of a depth that had her humming a melody on top of it. As if this bed and this room needed to be made more heavenly.
The music suddenly stopped, and Valentina snapped to, sweeping the bedcovers aside and hopping from the bed.
She caught her reflection in the dressing table mirror.
Remarkably, she didn’t look a fright. In fact, she might look well-rested.
She grabbed her gray cotton dress draped across the bench.
It had been pressed and—she lifted it to her nose—scented faintly with rosewater.
Last night returned to her in a blur. She’d lost her place at the Five Graces, leaving her plan in shambles. Then she’d gambled away her one chance to salvage the loss. All because of one man.
Lord Archer.
The man in whose bed she’d slept.
Well, not his bed, but close enough.
All the light, frothy elegance surrounding her was his.
She needed to leg it out of here.
She dressed quickly, ran an ivory comb through her hair, and snatched up her travel bag.
The door opened on silent hinges, and she poked her head out, checking that no one was about.
Corridor empty, she slipped across black-and-white checkered marble.
When she reached the head of the staircase, again she glanced about to make sure she was alone, then she rapidly descended the stairs, the wide double front door now in her sights.
All she had to do was cross the twenty-foot width of the receiving hall, and she would be through the door with nary a look back.
Perhaps it was rude to leave without thanking Lord Archer for his hospitality, but she couldn’t see any other way. She couldn’t afford to be involved with someone like him—someone who would only complicate her life further.
She had enough complications—like figuring out another way to secure her family’s lost savings.
Of a sudden, the front door swung open and in strode a large and quite handsome man with a head of reddish gold hair and bright blue eyes. The half-smile that was already on his face widened. “You are Miss Hart,” he said with a small bow.
That bow said all she needed to know about him. Another lord. Heaven help her. These lords kept blocking her way at every turn.
“I am,” she said, irritated and pettish. “Are we acquainted?”
“I watched you sing last night at the Five Graces. So, I reckon we could say ’tis I who is acquainted with you, but you don’t know me from Adam. Lord Kilmuir,” he finished with another bow.
Valentina nodded and said, “Nice to make your acquaintance, milord.”
It wasn’t, but her manners hadn’t entirely abandoned her.
“Are you looking for the morning room?”
“Actually, I’m looking for the front door.”
He blinked, then laughed. He thought she was being funny. He held out his arm and said, “Come with me.”
Valentina saw she had no choice. As he guided her through the house, she noticed that every room in this mansion contained large windows that allowed light to pour in, creating a bright, airy house—an inviting house. Just the sort of house that seemed perfect for a man like Lord Archer.
Annoying thought, that one.
Lord Kilmuir led her into a room that overlooked a garden in full June blossom.
In front of the bow window sat Lord Archer at a round table with two other ladies, all bathed in golden light.
One of the women looked very similar to Lord Archer with her platinum curls that just brushed her shoulders and blue eyes that held no small amount of mischief.
She must be a sister. The other woman looked very similar to the others, but her hair was raven black and her eyes green and quietly observant.
A more gorgeous trio of people Valentina had never beheld—almost too gorgeous to behold directly.
Upon Valentina and Lord Kilmuir’s entrance, Lord Archer shot to his feet and began making introductions. “Miss Hart, may I introduce you to my sister Lady Delilah and our cousin Miss Windermere?”
A tight smile formed about Valentina’s mouth. “Delighted to make your acquaintance.”
The ladies’ heads tipped subtly to the side as they took her in. Valentina shifted on her feet, suddenly too aware of how she and her presence here must appear. A right hoyden, sleeping in strange men’s houses. That was what they were surely thinking of her. Oh, she needed to vacate this house.
“You won’t meet our other sister, Lady Amelia, today,” said Lord Archer, resuming his seat.
“I believe it’s more correct to call her the Duchess of Ripon,” said Miss Windermere.
“She ran off with a duke last year,” explained Lord Archer.
“Then insisted on marrying him,” said Lady Delilah.
“And living with him,” added Miss Windermere.
Lord Archer spread his hands wide in apology. “Hence her absence from midday tea.”
Lady Delilah stood—oh, but she was tall and willowy—and indicated the chair to her left. “Miss Hart, perhaps you can talk some sense into my brother.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” said Valentina without thinking.
Lady Delilah laughed. “I already like her, Archie,” she said to her brother before returning the full intensity of her gaze to Valentina. “It’s simply that I’ve been presented with the opportunity to acquire a pet.”
“A pet?”
She nodded, her curls bouncing. “A pet baby goat, to be precise.”
“Delilah, not this again,” said Lord Archer with a roll of his eyes.
“Perhaps our guest can offer a new perspective.” Lady Delilah’s gaze settled on Valentina. “What do you think of a goat as a pet?”
“I think it’s a terrible idea,” said Valentina. She had nothing to lose by being honest.
Lord Kilmuir began coughing up the swallow of tea he’d just taken, and Miss Windermere smiled as if holding back a giggle.
Lady Delilah looked no small bit exasperated. “And why is that?”
Valentina pointed toward the garden outside the window. “Do you like that garden?” All manner of roses, peonies, hollyhocks, and daisies blossomed in the garden, colors bursting in brilliant white, red, pink, yellow, purple, and blue.
“I do,” said Lady Delilah.
“Baby goats grow into adult goats, and an adult goat will eat it clean in a week.”
A Windermere family quality was becoming clear to Valentina. They were big on ideas, but not so much when it came to pragmatics.
Lady Delilah’s eyebrows creased and released. “Ah.” She glanced at her brother. “No need to gloat, Archie.”
He spread his hands wide. “I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t need to.”
“Well, I must say,” said Miss Windermere, “those are quite the most sensible words spoken in this house since Aunt and Uncle left for Denmark.”
“Denmark?” asked Valentina, unable to help herself.
Lady Delilah gave a little shrug. “Oh, our parents are absolutely mad about digging up old bones and ruins in foreign lands. Vikings are the latest obsession.”
Somehow, Valentina felt herself becoming drawn into the Windermere world. They possessed an irresistibility.
Yet she must resist.
She must speak her thank-yous and farewells and consign this strange interlude to a passing folly.
Then food and drink were served, and she found herself eating and drinking, and not leaving.
Lord Archer caught her eye. “I have a plan.”
She froze mid-chew. “What plan?” she asked around the scone in her mouth.
No one seemed at all surprised by this non sequitur. Which could only mean one thing: everyone had been apprised of her and her family’s plight.
Oh, bother.
The bite of scone turned to sawdust in her mouth, and she swallowed with some difficulty. “That is completely unnecessary, Lord Archer. I have a plan, and it was going very well until—”
“Until?”
“Until I met you.”
A few ticks of time beat by before Lord Archer sat back in his chair and laughed. “That’s very funny, Miss Hart. Now, tell us your plan.”
Valentina felt as if she’d been backed into a tight corner, her only option to fight her way out. She held Lord Archer’s gaze and said, “I don’t have to.”
“She has you there, Arch,” said Lady Delilah.
Valentina sensed a possible ally.
“Oh, come now,” said Lord Archer.
For reasons entirely unknown to her, Valentina relented. “My plan is—was—to work my way up to singing for the ton.”
The frustrating man nodded, as if considering her plan. “You do have the talent,” he said slowly. “So, to be clear, your plan is to get into a room with Lord Nestor.”
“A public one.” A vital piece of the plan.
“Then what?” asked Lord Archer, serious. More serious than she’d thought him capable. “Ask him very nicely to return your father’s money?”
Discomfort stole through Valentina, her footing slightly less firm than it had been a moment ago. It felt as if Lord Archer were setting her up. “I won’t be nice about it,” she said, defensive, which she didn’t like.
“Again, to be clear,” began Lord Archer, somehow intruding into her space from all the way across the table. Such was the intensity of his gaze. “Your plan is to publicly shame and humiliate a lord in front of his peers?”
Valentina nodded. “He will have to return our money.”
She’d thought this plan through and knew it to be perfect, but the four pairs of eyes staring at her seemed to have reached a very different conclusion. She thought she might even see pity.