Chapter 6
Six
“Only listen to this, James!” Anne, stretched out on the faded silk divan wearing her nightdress and robe, sat up and began reading: “The Dinsmore assembly, held Wednesday last, was a glittering affair.” She perused the column quickly.
“I won’t bore you with the list of guests and what was served.
” She glanced over at her brother, who was also in his dressing gown, hair unbound over his broad shoulders, sipping coffee.
“I’ll skip straight to the delicious part:
“A certain young lady in her first season, whom, for the sake of her noble family, we shall henceforth refer to as Lady E, made a lasting impression on the guests assembled at the Dinsmores’.
According to our source, the lady did more than come out—she went in, as into the library, alone with a certain notorious Lord D.
There the two engaged in something far less intellectual than reading. ”
Anne chuckled. “Less intellectual than reading… Don’t you adore it, Lord D?”
“Always exciting to see one’s endeavors in print,” James remarked dryly.
“Most satisfying.” She smiled. “And you know how I labored over that particular phrase. Now where was I? Ah yes—
“Scandalized guests discovered the couple. Her brother, who, this writer ventures to guess, was paying more attention to his young bride than his young sister, whisked Lady E home.”
Anne lowered the broadsheet. “What I would not give to see His Lordship’s face when he reads that line.”
“I, for one, am grateful I shall not be there when he does.”
“No doubt he shall be extremely vexed with you. You should probably avoid places you might encounter him for the next few weeks.” She set the broadsheet down with a sigh.
“Though truly, it is most unfair. Why should you be blamed because Elizabeth hasn’t the good sense God gave a goose?
I tried to warn Moreham he needed to keep an eye on her.
That he should select a wife able to guide his sister through the pitfalls of the ton.
” Anne tsked. “Women in our society can be dreadfully unforgiving.”
“Indeed,” James said, eyeing his sister.
“Indeed,” she agreed, lifting a delicate flowered teacup from the table at her side. “How lovely of them to publish my work so promptly.”
“For what you paid the scoundrels, I should hope so.”
“An investment in Elizabeth Harcrest’s future, or what remains of it.
” She saluted him with her cup. “I must thank you, brother dear, for taking the time out of your busy schedule to deliver it to the printers. Prior to the actual event,” she said with amusement.
She took a sip of tea and closed her pale-blue eyes, savoring the taste.
“This blend is marvelous; you really should try it.”
“I’m quite satisfied with my coffee.”
“And of course I owe you even greater thanks. I hope you didn’t find seducing Elizabeth too tedious.”
“Not at all.”
“From what I could see…well, from what everyone could see, Elizabeth appeared to be enjoying your attentions.”
The silver coffeepot in James’s hand wavered and a few drops splashed onto his saucer. He tightened his grip. “Naturally. What else should she have expected from the notorious Lord D?”
A peal of delighted laughter escaped from Anne. “What else? But to dally with an awkward little virgin… I suspect the experience must have been unsatisfying, to say the least.”
“To say the least,” he murmured blandly, thinking of how close he had come to making love to Elizabeth Harcrest. His blood pulsed at the memory.
He felt himself hardening beneath his nightshirt.
He didn’t want to think about Elizabeth, how she’d looked, how she’d felt beneath him, the fevered keening that escaped her throat when he’d stroked her.
“So, Anne, what are your plans for this afternoon?”
She stretched back luxuriously on the worn couch. “It’s a lovely day for a ride in the park, don’t you think? Make the rounds, see who is about, wonder aloud what poor Moreham will do about his scandalous sister. Shall you come with me?”
“I’ve an appointment with my tailor.”
“Afterwards perhaps?”
“I need to purchase some new handkerchiefs.”
Pale-blue eyes met deep-blue ones. Anne shrugged. “Very well, but you shall miss all the fun.”
“I can only imagine.”
Anne continued as if she had not caught the acerbic note in her brother’s voice.
“I shall express my regrets that such a scandalous thing should have occurred in my home.” She placed a hand dramatically on her chest. “Our families are so close; I vow I feel responsible for this dreadful situation in which Elizabeth finds herself.”
“You missed your calling, Anne,” James said with a bored lightness that had nothing to do with the weight that was compressing his heart. “You really should have been an actress.”
A chill crept into her eyes. “Do not compare me to that slatternly lot. I am the daughter of the Duke of Dinsmore. I will be spoken of with respect.”
“Anne,” James said, studying his sister over his coffee cup, “how long do you intend to carry on this vendetta against Moreham?”
“For as long as it takes for him to experience all the humiliation and rejection I have. To wonder, every time he passes people at a party, clustered together laughing, if he is the subject of their amusement.” A brittle smile stretched her lips.
“For as long as it takes for him to regret he ever laid eyes on that little French bitch, Alix de La Brou.”
“He wouldn’t really kill James, do you think?”
Elizabeth and Alix were monogramming table linens in a small sitting room off Elizabeth’s bedchamber.
The house was quiet. Rafe had told the butler to inform callers—of whom there had been few—the family was not at home to visitors.
Still, Elizabeth couldn’t resist glancing out the long windows of the sitting room to see if anyone was coming down the drive.
“I wouldn’t underestimate him, Elizabeth.
He’s angry.” Alix pulled her needle through the downward sweep of an elaborate M.
An understatement; Rafe was furious. Last night it had been all she could do to prevent him from storming back to the Dinsmores and calling James out.
Toward the early hours of the morning, she’d finally convinced him a scene on the Dinsmores’ dance floor would only make the scandal worse.
She studied the figure of her sister-in-law.
Elizabeth looked remarkably fresh. The rose of her fichu brought a soft glow to her cheeks, her eyes were bright, and her hair was loosely but artfully arranged in gleaming chestnut waves.
As Elizabeth turned her head toward the window for what must have been the hundredth time, Alix couldn’t help thinking she resembled one of the rosebuds on her gown.
“Elizabeth,” she said with a sudden surge of suspicion, “are you watching for James?”
“Certainly not,” Elizabeth replied, pulling a stitch so tight the fabric pleated.
Her sister-in-law was a terrible liar. He’s not coming, Alix wanted to say, but she knew Elizabeth wouldn’t listen. In her own way, Elizabeth was as stubborn as Rafe.
Silence stretched as tautly as the linen in their embroidery hoops.
“Elizabeth.” Alix stopped stitching. “Marriage to James Dinsmore might resolve this difficult situation.” Her finger traced the M. “But marriage to a man you barely know…”
“I’ve known James Dinsmore my entire life.”
“You know one facet of his character, the charming social James Dinsmore…but there are others…”
“Are you referring to his fondness for horse racing? For gambling? His debts? His drinking?” Elizabeth paused, then added almost casually, “Or his reputation for seducing women and frequenting houses of ill repute?”
“Elizabeth.” Alix’s voice was shocked. “A young lady should not know of such things.”
“Shouldn’t know, or simply shouldn’t speak of such things?
Let us not pretend, Alix, only consider how I was raised.
You didn’t know my father or my brother George, but let me assure you, they drank and gambled and whored and made no effort to hide their pleasures from Louisa or from me.
” She examined her needlework. “Did you know they considered Rafe, with his careful planning, his studies, his interest in economics, an oddity?”
“He has told me some things.”
“I will not repeat my mother’s errors. The only veil that will be over my eyes when I walk down the marriage aisle will be one made of lace.”
“Are you so sure you know James Dinsmore, then?”
Elizabeth glanced at the window. “No.” She turned to face Alix. “But there is something about him…a goodness, a sense of honor, buried deep perhaps, but still there. I can feel it.”
Alix said nothing, but her expression clearly conveyed her skepticism.
“Haven’t you ever met a person, looked into his eyes, and known in that instant that you could trust him?”
Alix thought of the first time she’d seen Rafe. “I have.”
“And were you right?”
She thought of the lies he’d told when they’d first met, and the things she’d kept concealed.
And the disaster the two of them had nearly made of their lives.
“It’s not that simple, Elizabeth. And James…
” Her hands fluttered as if the right words were small birds and she might somehow pluck them out of the air.
“He is so much older, and experienced, and he’s… well, he’s…”
“A Dinsmore?”
She nodded.
“That doesn’t make him bad. It makes him proud and, I’ll admit, rather arrogant.
But consider his situation: his father mad, his sister an angry spinster, his title withheld, his fortune entailed.
What else is he to do but seek amusements and grow increasingly bored with them?
He’s like a little boy who has lost his way. ”
“He’s not a little boy, Elizabeth; he’s a man.”
Elizabeth thought about how his hands and his lips had explored her body, how he’d looked as he’d held her close and pleasured her. “I am aware of that.”
Alix frowned at the flush drifting up her sister-in-law’s slim neck. “I’m not talking about what passed between you two last night.”
The flush became distinctly crimson and spread to Elizabeth’s cheeks.
“Elizabeth, listen to me. There is an innocence to what boys do. They are just discovering the boundaries of their world, the damage they cause.” She stopped, knowing she must continue, must say her mind, but aware that whatever words she chose would hurt Elizabeth.
“The damage they cause is…unintentional.”
“Are you saying what happened between us was…that James planned it?”
“I wasn’t there, Elizabeth.” Though, she thought bitterly, a good deal of the ton conveniently was.
As well as the footman who appeared at Rafe’s elbow to let them know their carriage was ready at the precise moment word had begun to spread through the crush.
Rafe had wanted to charge to the library, but she had convinced him it would only make things worse.
“Is that what you are saying, Alix?” Elizabeth demanded.
No matter what arguments she presented, Elizabeth would reject them; her sister-in-law was clearly infatuated with James Dinsmore. “What I’m saying is that James knew better than to take you into the library alone. He knew the risks to you and to your reputation.”
“And if I tell you that it was my idea to go into the library?”
“I’d say you did a very mad thing, but I would still say that James should not have taken you.”
“And if I tell you that he resisted, that it was I who encouraged him?”
Alix, her mouth drawn tight, said nothing, only picked up her needlework and began to work the petals of a flower.
“Last night was not planned. It just…happened. But I feel somehow that it was meant to be. He will come for me.” Perhaps not today—she glanced out the window—but I know he will.
They continued to stitch in quiet, if not entirely comfortable, silence.
“I’m bored and I’m tired of sitting. I need some fresh air.” Elizabeth began putting away her needles and thread. “Do let us go riding.”
Alix looked doubtful. “Rafe has put it out that we are not at home to visitors.”
“Just a brief ride, a quick turn about the park. We won’t stop. We won’t speak to a soul. If anyone tries to engage us, we’ll simply wave politely.”
“Elizabeth, I don’t know.”
“I suppose we must stay inside, then.” Elizabeth sighed, peering through her lashes. “After all, Rafe does always know what’s best.”
Alix’s eyes narrowed. “I know what you are up to, Elizabeth Harcrest. You are trying to manipulate me.”
Elizabeth picked up a needle, but her hands remained motionless in her lap. Her eyes drifted toward the window.
She’ll learn, Alix thought, soon enough.
“Such a beautiful day.”
Weaving her needle into the corner of her work, Alix said, “Very well, a brief ride.” She rose, praying that the lesson Elizabeth was about to learn would be brief as well.
“Do you like it? It’s last year’s habit, but I’ve trimmed it with some new lace and changed the collar. The hat is new.”
James studied his sister in her navy-blue habit, trimmed with red. The hat was a small tricorne, perched jauntily on her pale-blonde hair, a rich red feather curling down toward her cheeks. “Very elegant, Anne. Heads will turn.”
She smiled. “And ears, too, I’ve no doubt.” She pulled on a pair of red kidskin gloves. “Are you certain you will not change your mind and come riding with me?”
“Quite certain,” he said firmly.
“Very well, then,” she said, giving her hat a quick pat to make sure it was securely pinned.
“I’m off.” Halfway across the sitting room she turned, her eyes shining like those of a child on her way to a birthday party.
“I do hope you shall be here for dinner. You wouldn’t want to miss hearing what the critics have to say about Elizabeth’s performance. ”