14. Chapter 14
Javenia’s card landed lightly on his, and Algenon’s heart skipped a beat. The queen of hearts sat in such a way that she appeared to be laying in the king’s arms. He slowly sucked in a breath.
“Roberts.”
Algenon jerked his hand away from Javenia’s knee at his father’s booming voice near his side. Had he seen the movement? Their chairs were seated rather close together.
He waited for the gauntlet to fall, his heart hammering in his chest for a whole different reason. If his father had seen his forward behavior, nothing he could say or do would save Javenia from utter humiliation and social ruin. He needed to defuse the situation.
Pushing back his chair, he rose to face his father. To his surprise, Lady Roberts was leaning heavily on his father’s arm.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“No,” his father said. “I believe we will need to retire early for the evening. Your mother is unwell.”
Algenon cringed at the use of mother. Although his father had used it with every stepmother he’d had, it felt entirely wrong when he himself could have married Lady Roberts. They had danced together on multiple occasions before his father had taken interest.
“I am sorry to hear it. Would you like me to help her to the carriage or would you rather I gather Phillipa?”
His father glanced at Javenia and scowled. “The carriage, I think.” He nodded to himself as if solidifying the decision. “Yes, take Lady Roberts to the carriage. Your sister is with Miss Jacinda. When they finish their game, we will meet you.”
Did it not matter that his game was still in the middle of play? Algenon’s fingers curled.
It seemed this was an intervention, a way to get him away from Javenia. Then Lady Roberts lifted her head. Her cheeks were pale and her lips lacked their usual luster. Instinct had him reaching out to help her onto his arm.
All thoughts of his own wants vanished. Her steps were unsteady as he led her toward the front of the house, her breath coming out in short puffs.
“Please forgive me,” she said when they reached the front door, “but I must sit.”
“Of course.” He led her to a chair while a footman retrieved their coats.
When he turned around, Javenia was there, Lord Hamdon close behind.
“Is there anything I might do to help?” she asked.
Lady Roberts shook her head. “No, but thank you. I simply consumed something that disagreed with me.”
Javenia dropped to a crouch in front of her, heedless of the beautiful gown she wore. “I have a peppermint in my reticule. I could have the footman fetch it if you’d like.”
“That would be marvelous.”
Before Javenia even rose, Lord Hamdon stopped a servant and requested he fetch it. Algenon tried not to let his jealousy cloud his judgment. The quicker his stepmother found relief, the better. But why did it have to be at the hands of the one man who’d shown Javenia marked attention?
It didn’t help that Lord Hamdon commanded attention from half the ladies in London with his fine figure and boyishly handsome face.
What the man lacked in charm, he made up for as the heir apparent to the Earl of Lincolnhurst. If titles meant anything to Javenia, she’d connect herself as soon as possible to this man.
But they didn’t, and Algenon clung to the hope that they never would. Not that he had much hope of ever being able to win Javenia’s hand. His father appeared down the hall with Phillipa on his arm. Even from this distance, his father’s eyes flashed with warning when they fell on Javenia.
If only the stubborn old man knew who was offering his wife relief. Narrow-minded, eccentric idiot. Why couldn’t he stop meddling in Algenon’s life? Some days he almost wished the man dead.
As soon as the thought came, Algenon’s thoughts came to a grinding halt.
What sort of son wished his father harm?
Guilt swarmed his chest like angry bees stinging him from the inside.
He turned to look at himself in one of the vestibule mirrors, seriously wondering what sort of person he’d become.
He’d let his anger drive him too far. It was time to regain control over his thoughts.
Yes, his father drove him to the brink of insanity by keeping him and Javenia apart, but that did not constitute such hatred.
Even if his father used him to attend to all his estates, at least he trusted him enough to do so.
And then there was the freedom he’d been given over the last four seasons.
While Father had expressly forbidden him from courting Javenia, he’d been ready and willing to accept any other woman.
The footman returned with the reticule, and Javenia fished a small paper package from its contents. Lady Roberts took the mint gratefully, popping it in her mouth and breathing through her nose.
After a few moments, she rose. “Thank you, Miss Harris. I believe this is just what I needed.”
“Are you ready to go, my dear?” Lord Roberts spoke to his wife, but his eyes were on Algenon.
Blast, he’d forgotten to have the footman summon their carriage. He sidled up to the man and gave his orders before returning to the group.
“The driver will be around soon. Would you like to wait outside?” Algenon asked Lady Roberts. “Perhaps the cool air will clear your head.”
Her gaze flicked to Javenia and the smallest of smiles pulled at her lips. “I think I shall, but Phillipa seems to have left her wrap behind.”
Algenon turned to his sister. Phillipa blinked at Lady Roberts. Her nose scrunched once and Algenon glanced back at his stepmother. She, in turn, tipped her head in the direction of Lord Hamdon.
“Ah yes, my wrap,” Phillipa said in a voice that was far too rehearsed to be real.
Something was afoot.
Phillipa turned to Lord Hamdon. “Would it be too much of a bother, Lord Hamdon, if you could fetch my wrap? I believe it is at one of the card tables.”
Lord Hamdon straightened. “What does it look like?”
“It has—” Phillipa paused. “Actually, perhaps we should go together, since I do not recall which one I brought this evening.”
Algenon narrowed his gaze and pursed his lips. Phillipa rarely forgot her apparel. Was this his stepmother’s way of giving his sister the opportunity to spend some time with the viscount?
“Your father and I shall await you outside,” Lady Roberts said. “Algenon, please make certain she makes it to the carriage safely. Miss Harris, it was nice to see you. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”
Lady Roberts slipped her hand through her husband’s arm, and Algenon stared as they made their way out the door, his father hardly looking askance at him. How had she orchestrated things so smoothly? The woman must be a literal saint.
Not only had she placed Phillipa in the path of one of the most eligible men in London, but she’d also given him the moment of time alone with Javenia that he’d craved since the dinner at the Duke of Bedford’s.
So many questions crowded his thoughts that he didn’t know which to ask first. Then his eyes caught on the young footman who had brought their coats. He stood on one side of the door while a man of equal stature in the same livery stood at the other.
So much for being alone. One wrong move and the servants of London would spread the gossip like slop in a pigpen. He cringed.
“Are you in pain?”
Javenia’s words pulled him from his thoughts. “Not at all, only wishing John would extend that dinner invitation.”
She clasped her hands behind her back and stepped close enough for him to smell the scent that always clung to her clothes.
He’d once asked why she smelled like a field of flowers and she’d admitted to putting little sachets of dried petals among her things.
He loved the way the hint of floral mixed with a scent that was uniquely Javenia.
Warm and woodsy, like she’d stepped in from the outdoors, the sunshine still clinging to her hair.
“You know,” she said in a low voice. “We could always arrive on the same morning for a call, or to share breakfast, the same as we used to do at Kendall House.”
A slow smile lifted his lips along with his heart.
“Tomorrow then?”
She shook her head. “At least give the poor couple a day to prepare for us to descend on them.”
“What if I do not want to give them time?” He couldn’t help the deep rasp in his tone. It was driven by desperation, and if he were honest with himself, fear.
At any moment, the rug could be swept out from under his feet and he could lose Javenia. She could fall prey to Lord Hamdon’s charms. Although her reaction to his own hand on her knee had not been one of disinterest, he would not blame her if she chose a path less littered with thorns.
But what of the card she’d played? Even though he knew it could have been a stroke of luck or a trick of fate, he wanted to believe that Javenia had held onto that card on purpose in order to play it at just the right time. It was ridiculous, but his hungry heart had to believe it.
She stared up into his eyes, energy snapping between them like lightning between earth and sky. Her chest noticeably rose and fell in a deep, even pattern. “Algenon, I—”
“Please forgive me, Lord Hamdon.” Phillipa’s voice broke the spell and Algenon bit back a curse. He wanted to hear what Javenia had to say, what she might do.
Phillipa continued. “It must have slipped my mind that I decided not to bring my wrap at the last minute. I don’t believe Lady Roberts witnessed me take it off.”
The click of boots grew closer. “Please, do not trouble yourself. I enjoyed our little conversation.”
The pair stopped when they reached Algenon and Javenia. Phillipa glanced between them, a question evident in the set of her shoulders and the way her lips twitched.
Javenia smiled and stepped away from him. Algenon wanted to throw a childish fit. Why couldn’t Phillipa have waited a few moments longer? They hadn’t even settled on a time to meet.
“Are you ready?” he asked instead.
“I will be.” Phillipa motioned for a footman and the man brought forward the cloak she’d asked for earlier. “I do hope you enjoy your time at the opera, Lord Hamdon. We too, will be there that night. Perhaps we shall see one another.”
Lord Hamdon nodded. “I shall look forward to it.”
Algenon didn’t have time to ask which night she referred to as their stepmother had scheduled multiple trips to the opera over the next few weeks. Nor did he particularly care which night the man went, as long as he kept his attention away from Javenia.
As if Lord Hamdon had read Algenon’s thoughts and immediately discounted them, he turned to Javenia. “Might I escort you back to the party?”
She smiled. “In just a moment. Let me say goodbye to my friends.”
Stepping forward, Javenia hugged Phillipa. She returned the embrace, lamenting that they had to leave so soon. Then her face brightened.
“Will you come during calling hours tomorrow?”
Javenia’s smile faded, and she glanced at him. “I cannot.”
“Fine, then I shall come to you during yours,” Phillipa announced. “Besides, Cindy and I need to plan what we will wear to the Fortescues’ soiree.”
The tight expression on Javenia’s face nearly made him laugh. She liked speaking about fashion almost as much as he enjoyed having Miss Weston forced on him. When her brow furrowed, however, he realized there was more behind her discomfort.
“I am sure Cindy will enjoy that.”
“Are you certain you all cannot come tomorrow? I hate to wait an extra day. If you are worried about Father, I am certain he can find some other place to be. He does not always hover over us, you know.”
“I am certain.” Javenia stepped back, clasping her hands together. “Mr. Roberts”—she dipped her head to him— “until we meet again, good evening.”
Then she took Lord Hamdon’s proffered arm and walked away, taking with her the light Algenon had come to depend upon. Why could fate not smile on him for one blasted moment? Had he done something so terribly wrong that everything in his life had to conspire against him?
They’d not reached an agreement on when to meet at John’s, but he had to hope she’d meant the day after tomorrow. Then again, why had she been so averse to making any arrangements with his family for the next day? Did she have plans?
As she disappeared into the rooms set up with card tables, one reason rose to the forefront of his thoughts and his heart lodged in his throat.
Was she engaged to go out with Lord Hamdon?