Chapter 11 #2
“Did it not occur to you that there are already too many clouds gathering here?” Lance speared him with a very direct glare.
“You surprise me. You are supposed to be the sensible brother. The lawyer, by God. And you take up with a schoolteacher who is under suspicion by the Home Office, and decide to hide your paramour here.”
Was Lance scolding him? That took some gall. “I have not taken up with her.”
“Haven’t you now? That is good news, I suppose. You are supposed to be sensible in that regard too. Not for you the bored wives, as with Gareth. Not for you the whoever catches one’s eye, as with me. I trust you ensured that she brought a woman with her, if it is not like that.”
Ives sipped some brandy.
Lance threw up his hands. “Not like that, hell. Well, I forbid it. While this schoolteacher is in this house you are not to seduce her. I won’t have it.”
Ives laughed. “Are you the vicar now?”
“Someone has to serve as this poor schoolteacher’s chaperone, since you brought her here all alone. The poor woman is probably terrified, having guessed your bad intentions.”
“As you presume to know them, you mean?”
Lance stood and set down his glass. “I know you. That is all I need to know, because your intentions are in your eyes when you speak of her. Normally it is some actress who inspires those fires. I will meet her at dinner, and give her what reassurance I can with my ducal presence.”
Ives laughed hard this time. “You have never reassured women that their virtue was safe, Lance. Duke or not, your presence does not inspire that confidence in them.”
“Then I will be explicit, that as an innocent she is under my protection in my house.” He walked to the door. “Now, since we have a guest, I should dress.”
Ives threw back the rest of his brandy. What an inconvenient time for his undisciplined brother to decide to become a stickler on society’s rules.
* * *
Padua had intended to take her dinner in her chamber.
Her very luxurious chamber. It made the one in London pale in comparison.
This was more an apartment than a chamber, since it had its own big dressing room.
In particular she loved the tall windows that looked out on the rolling estate of Merrywood Manor.
Pale green and rose colored the drapery.
The note from Ives, brought by a footman, dashed her plans. The Duke of Aylesbury expected her attendance at dinner, so he could welcome her.
Aided by a servant, she dressed as best she could, which was not well at all.
Even in her best dress, a simple affair made of yellow muslin, and the blue wool wrap she inherited from her mother, she cut a poor figure.
Hopefully the duke would conclude she added little to his table and not demand her presence again.
Ives arrived at her door while she tried to settle her nerves. “I thought you might like an escort.”
“Thank you. That would help.”
He tucked her hand around his arm and guided her to the stairs. “He is only mildly eccentric. Should he start waxing eloquent, let him talk his fill. Do not worry that you are expected to contribute, or even agree.”
“I do not know why he insisted I join him.”
“He is curious. He is your host.”
She rather wished he were an absent host, as he had been in London.
What a rude thought.
As soon as she entered the dining room, she decided perhaps this would not be too much an ordeal. The duke had already arrived, it being an informal night. He subtly examined her during their greeting.
She examined him in turn. Although handsome like his brother, the duke’s deep brown eyes and black hair increased the darkness of his appearance.
A scar marred his cheek, forming a fine, pale, irregular line that lent harsh drama to his person.
The intensity she at times saw in Ives seemed a permanent state for the duke.
She had no trouble picturing him at dawn, stripped to his shirtsleeves, facing another man to duel with sword or pistol.
The places had been set for intimate conversation, with Ives and her facing each other and the duke at the table’s head.
“Ives said you are a schoolteacher,” the duke prompted.
She treated him to a full accounting of her work in Birmingham and London. He at least pretended to be interested, although she noticed him send Ives a glance or two. She talked too long, but she feared the void when she stopped.
“I must apologize,” she said upon concluding. “It is such a treat for me to converse with adults that I sometimes speak too much.”
“I like knowing all about the people who take residence at Merrywood.”
“I will not be here long. I am not really taking residence.”
“You are welcome to stay as long as you desire. I insist you remain while Eva is here. She is my other brother’s wife. She will be glad to have another woman about, so she does not have to suffer our company alone.”
The duke turned his attention to Ives and asked after matters in London. The two brothers conversed in the casual, unguarded way of relatives. She ceased to be the center of attention. That suited her. She focused on the delicious meal, even better than the one she enjoyed at Langley House.
“Do you ride?”
The question intruded on her admiration for a cake festooned with Chantilly. She wanted to jump into the cream and eat her way out.
The duke had her in his sights again.
“I have never had the opportunity.”
“Then you must while you are here. It is the only way to properly see the estate. The chestnut mare should suit her, don’t you think, Ives?”
“Very well, I would say. I will take you riding tomorrow.”
This was exactly what she expected to happen if she spent any time with this family. Her circumstances normally did not embarrass her, but over and over she would find herself begging off their generosity.
“That is kind of you. However, I do not own suitable garments for riding. I will appear comical enough on a horse without adding to the ridiculous image with my attempts to maintain some modesty while attired in a day dress.”
Both gentlemen appeared at a loss for words.
“Of course if you have never gone riding you would not have riding garments,” Ives finally said. “You should have thought of that, Lance.”
Now they were all embarrassed. Deciding to put them out of their misery, Padua stood. “I hope you will not mind if I retire and leave you to your port and conversation.”
They both rose to their feet and bid her good night.
* * *
“She is very . . . tall.” Lance offered his first words on Miss Belvoir while he and Ives strolled through the garden.
“Distinctively so,” Ives agreed.
“Distinctive is not the word I would guess she has heard most of her life regarding her unusual stature.”
Had she heard unkind words instead? What idiots people were. What blind fools. “I think it is a very accurate word.”
His brother glanced at him through the dark. “It will make things difficult. Finding her riding garments, for example. I doubt she can wear Eva’s, or whatever is left here from our mother’s days.”
“I will take her on a tour of the estate in a carriage instead. She does not have to ride.”
“You alone with Miss Belvoir for hours in a carriage . . . How thoughtful of you to take care of our guest. I trust you won’t find it too dull.”
“If I do, she will never know. I try to be polite that way.”
“Do not try to kiss her until you are on the way back. That way, when she rejects your advance, there will not be too much time left before you can both escape.”
Ives resisted pointing out that Miss Belvoir had already not rejected him. Far from it. He also avoided the invitation to protest the assumption he would try to kiss her again. He had not decided about that. Not entirely, at least.
“What chamber did the housekeeper put her in?” Lance asked.
“What does it matter? They are all presentable.”
“I want to know. I think you can tell me. You found out yourself, didn’t you?”
“Only because I escorted her down to dinner.” He heard himself sound like a boy making excuses for a perceived transgression. “It is the chamber with the green and rose drapery.”
“It is a fairly plain chamber. I expect the housekeeper thought Miss Belvoir would be overwhelmed if asked to live surrounded by silks and ornament. It has a dressing room, however, so she will not feel as though she had been housed with the servants.” He paced on awhile.
“Or did you ask to have her put there in that chamber?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Whenever you answer questions with questions, I know you are avoiding the truth. That chamber is not far from your chamber, that is why.”
“Isn’t it? I’ll be damned.”
“Play your game as you choose. I believe your dishonorable intentions will only bring you frustration.”
“You are sure you know my intentions, do you?”
“Having seen her, and seen you watching her, I am sure that my earlier suspicions were correct. However, I do not think you will be assaulting that particular tower tonight, and tomorrow Eva arrives. I will charge her with acting as Miss Belvoir’s chaperone.”
“Miss Belvoir does not need a chaperone. She is at least twenty-five, and a woman who knows her own mind. She is well educated, and probably smarter than you are. Furthermore, all of this interference is absurd coming from you.”
“I am only following my lawyer’s advice.
Remember? I should be a paragon within the county, at least for a while.
I should avoid drunken revelries, or having women in this house for erotic purposes.
I should even avoid going to where such women can be found in their own abodes.
I must ride out on the estate like a good lord, and be generous in my dealings with all I meet.
I must even suffer the company of Radley for half a day, knowing all the while that he is trying to get me hanged.
So, if I must do all of that, I’ll be damned if you get to pursue a woman under my own roof while I have to be a monk. ”
“You are going to create trouble for me merely because I gave you very sound, very reasonable advice? This is the thanks I get for keeping you out of their clutches?”
“I am doing this because following your advice is driving me mad. I have no intention of suffering alone. You forced me back here, you insisted I leave town, so you can damned well suffer too. If I needed to forbid Gareth from enjoying his wife’s favors while he visits, I would.”
“You are mad.”
“More than mad. Insane from boredom. Deranged by abstinence. Unhinged due to—”
“You are too dramatic.”
“Try to seduce Miss Belvoir, and see just how dramatic I can be.”
They let the topic drop, and chatted about other things while they walked back to the house. Lance’s peevish demand for a fellow sufferer did not leave Ives’s mind, however.
Lance had all but thrown down a gauntlet. Ives would be damned before he allowed his brother to dictate like this in any matter, let alone this one, and least of all because Lance was in a fit of pique over his own restrictions.
Pride practically dictated he seduce Padua now, should he choose to listen to that voice.