Chapter 13 #3
Too familiar. Far too familiar. And yet stopping himself felt impossible.
His entire life had been governed by restraint and measured behavior; he could not recall a single moment of impulse that had ever rewarded him.
Besides those that had made her smile, such as offering his hat for the canary, his calligraphy for her bottles, and now this.
This felt like stepping into sunlight after standing in shadows.
“Forgive me,” he murmured near her ear, barely a breath of sound. “Perhaps a warning was not enough.”
She turned her head, eyes wide, lips parted slightly in surprise. The soft lamplight caught against her lashes, and for one reckless heartbeat he imagined lowering his lips to hers.
Madness.
Though he released her hand at once, his palm tingled with the memory of her warmth.
He folded his hands behind his back where they could do no more mischief, and he stared straight ahead at the rolling canvas of Algiers.
He heard none of the narration. His entire awareness remained fixed on the woman standing barely in front of him—the slight tremor she tried to hide, the way her shoulders stiffened at each loud report, the delicate brush of her curls on the back of her neck.
He was too familiar by half.
And yet… If another crash came, he knew, with a sinking certainty, he would take her hand again. Unless he put distance between them. The crowd around them made such a thing difficult. He could see no easy way to slide through the audience without drawing attention or causing irritation.
Somehow, Lyness had trapped himself in a position of blissful torture.
The panorama canvas continued to move before him, the mechanism employed wrapping the already viewed scenes to one side while the other uncurled to present new images of ships firing upon each other in a harbor.
People around him gasped and exclaimed at the brightly painted water and smoke rising from the ships’ guns.
Lady Emily’s hand reached back at the same moment his reached forward, and he held on to her, gently, as the drums rolled and cymbals punctuated the narration of the battle.
Others in the crowd covered their ears. A few stepped backward.
Mrs. Elgin had squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears when mirrored light flashed across the audience.
Aware of it all, Lyness’s focus remained on Lady Emily’s slender fingers in his grasp. His whole focus narrowed to that touch of their gloved hands. He wished he had the right to hold her hand always, and not only here, where no one would see in the dimly lit room and between the press of bodies.
Somewhere behind him, along the wall, Roman stood with their mother.
Lyness knew this. Roman could likely see Lyness’s head and shoulders, his position relative to Lady Emily’s, and his older brother would suspect nothing amiss.
He would never think that Lyness harbored feelings for a woman Roman wished to court.
And how would it be, if Roman made a formal request of courtship?
And if he succeeded in drawing Lady Emily’s affection, how would Lyness stamp out his own attraction to her?
“This is incredible,” she whispered over her shoulder to him, eyes wide with wonder.
“Yes. Incredible.” That one word meant something entirely different to him as red lamplight shone, the canvas moving to bring the flicker of fire to mind. He barely heard the final words the master of ceremonies spoke.
“When Lord Exmouth considered that he had accomplished the objects of his mission, he ordered the ships to retire as before mentioned, which, from their crippled state, they did with great difficulty. The enemy, upon their withdrawing, opened, with fresh vigor, a tremendous discharge of shells, which was answered by showers of rockets from the boats. At this moment a violent thunder-storm began, accompanied with lightning, which swept along the ships in vivid streams; whilst the pealing of the thunder far exceeded in loudness the ‘cannon’s deafening roar.’ The combined effect of the thunder, the lightning, the noise of the loud-mouthed cannon, and the arsenal and the ships, now in flames, was at once terrific, overwhelming, and sublime. ”
The roar of the imagined cannon fire died away, leaving the room in a vibrating hush.
Lyness exhaled, slow and quiet, as Lady Emily’s fingers slipped from his.
He let his hand fall, let his shoulders return to their proper posture, let the mask of polite interest settle once more across features that felt far too warm.
What was he doing?
He should have stepped back long ago. He should have moved across the room.
He should have remembered that Roman had told him—plainly, earnestly—that he had decided to take a bride, and Lady Emily was a most obvious choice.
A baron’s younger brother had no right to hover behind her like some besotted schoolboy.
And yet he had done exactly that.
Blasted hypocrisy. He prided himself on temperance and good sense, and here he was indulging every impulse simply because she looked a little startled in a darkened room.
He shifted, meaning to put a safer inch or two between them. Then she glanced back—only briefly, eyes seeking reassurance—and his breath tangled again.
“I am glad you were here,” she said quietly. “I did not expect to be shaken by this event to such an extent.”
He wondered, absurd fool that he was, whether she might have wanted to stand with him from the beginning. Whether she had been pleased to see him arrive. Whether her soft intake of breath when he took her hand had more to do with him than it did the cymbals.
For one wild instant, he let himself imagine she might choose him instead of Roman, if he asked.
Then he dismissed the thought so sharply that it stung.
Lady Emily Sterling deserved a man with rank and presence and confidence—not a second son who communicated best with ink and paper and lost every trace of composure the moment she smiled at him.
She would be far better matched with Roman, who carried a title, a commanding manner, and the important members of Society standing behind him.
Roman would never hesitate. Roman would never be undone by a pair of gloved hands brushing his.
No. Lyness knew precisely where he stood. And more so, where he must stand.
At a distance.
He straightened, folding his hands behind him once more, the only safe place for them. The painted ships glowed on the canvas before him as the exhibition drew to a gentle close, but he saw none of it. Holding within him the knowledge that wanting more than his lot was folly of the worst kind.
When the panorama finally ended and the lights rose, he told himself he would make a polite farewell, return to his mother’s side, and forget every reckless impulse of the evening. Never to repeat it.
He already suspected he would fail.
Lady Emily straightened, blinking as the brighter lamps returned shape and color to the room.
Mrs. Elgin turned to her at once, cheeks flushed with excitement.
“What an astonishing display! My dear Lady Emily, you endured it beautifully. I jumped nearly every time the drums sounded, yet you held yourself with such composure.” She put a hand to her throat, her eyes wide and bright. “How did you fare? Truly?”
Lady Emily’s composure had returned, though Lyness thought her voice carried a faint tremor. “It was louder than I expected, but quite extraordinary. And I did well, I think.”
Lyness felt the words settle in his chest, part relief, part guilt. She did well, he repeated silently, as if that might excuse his behavior.
Mr. Holly stepped beside his sister, looking at each of them with an air of pleased approval.
“I daresay you handled the affair with admirable grace, Lady Emily. Many of the gentlemen in this room ducked at that first cannon blast.” His amused smile deepened.
“Though some of us had the advantage of foresight.”
His gaze slid pointedly to Lyness—not unkind, but with a curious lift of his brows.
Lyness resisted the urge to tug at his cuffs.
Holly knew. Or at least suspected more than Lyness wished anyone to notice.
He inclined his head in a polite acknowledgment, schooling his expression into something mild.
If he attempted a verbal response in that moment, his words would trip all over themselves.
Mrs. Elgin gave her brother a playful nudge. “Christopher, do not tease. Lady Emily may well have been startled, but she recovered splendidly.”
“Yes,” Mr. Holly agreed, eyes flicking again between Lady Emily and Lyness. “She did.”
Unaware of the silent exchange, Lady Emily looked up at the platform and the scenes being rolled backward for the next showing. “I am glad to have seen it. Though I certainly do not believe I will attend a second viewing.”
Mrs. Elgin laughed. “Indeed not. My nerves could not withstand another barrage.”
“This is certainly a unique way to learn of significant events in our time,” Lady Emily said, turning to look again at Lyness. Her lips curled upward. “Experiencing the display with others makes it more enjoyable than solitary study.”
Lyness swallowed down the warmth rising in him again—warmth and something precarious, something dangerously close to hope. He willed his breathing steady.
And then Roman appeared.
“Lady Emily.” Roman’s baritone cut smoothly through the chatter as he stepped up beside them, bowing to the ladies with polished ease.
“Mrs. Elgin. Mr. Holly.” His gaze shifted last—and longest—to Lyness.
“I am glad to see my brother found good company for the exhibition. I wondered where he had gone.”
“As you see, I found th-the very best of c-company,” Lyness returned, keeping his tone as steady as possible, his words unremarkable.
Roman looked to Lady Emily again, his expression brightening in a way Lyness had learned to interpret far too well. “I trust the spectacle did not overwhelm you? It is rather more dramatic than a play or art gallery.”
Lady Emily offered him a more polite smile than she had bestowed upon Lyness. “It was rather dramatic, yes, but I found it impressive. I enjoyed myself fully.”
“I am pleased to hear it.” Roman’s gaze sharpened, intense and direct. “Mother found it enlightening as well. She will want to speak with you before the evening ends.”
“Of course. I would be happy to hear her thoughts.” She sounded as though she meant it.
Lyness felt something cold and familiar settle beneath his ribs—the faint tightening of a vise he had put around his own heart long ago. To limit his wishes and desires, to better serve the family.
Holly made a soft, amused sound under his breath. When Lyness glanced at him, the man’s eyes held a flicker of sympathy, or understanding, before he engaged again in the general conversation.
Mrs. Elgin chattered on about the painted canvas and the cleverness of the lighting, drawing Emily with her to examine one of the colorful lamps near the platform. Roman followed after, listening attentively. Lyness followed two steps behind his brother, exactly where propriety dictated.
Exactly where temptation could not reach.