“I do not think that makes you less than she,” he found himself saying, making Miss Crosby look up at him in evident surprise. “I myself can only apologize for never thinking to ask you about your family before, Miss Crosby. That was quite wrong of me.”
She did not say anything for a moment or two but looked up at him steadily as they walked together, her hand still on his arm. “You are very kind to say so,” she said, eventually, her voice soft and yet filled with evident pleasure that he had been so considerate. “My father thinks I would be best served aiding my cousin in her endeavors. I am glad to be in London, of course, for it is vastly different from the country. I have a good many more companions here than at home.”
Wondering at her resolve to make the best of what must be, at times, a rather difficult situation, Daniel found himself smiling in admiration. “Do you enjoy dancing, Miss Crosby?”
“I would not know, Lord Ruddington,” she replied, with a slight note to her voice. “I have not been often enough on the floor, I fear. However,” she continued before he could apologize for his mistake and lack of thought, “I do greatly enjoy painting and reading, although I find I have less time for them than I used to.”
“Painting?” he queried, looking at her and seeing her cheeks flush with color just a little. She was quite becoming when such a thing occurred, he thought to himself, before pulling himself from such considerations almost at once. “I know every young lady ought to have some ambition to achieve a measure of success in drawing and painting. Have you had training in it?”
She hesitated. “A little,” she answered, slowly, not looking at him. “I have very little skill in other areas, Lord Ruddington, and my father was kind enough to grant me some tutelage in painting for a few short months. However, you will find I cannot play the pianoforte well at all and certainly cannot sing with any talent whatsoever!” Her eyes twinkled as she turned her head to look at him, leaving Daniel with the distinct impression that Miss Crosby was enjoying the conversation with him as much as he was with her. He continued on easily, talking about all manner of things as they made their way slowly towards Lady Smithton and Miss Marks, who were meandering all the more slowly through the park. There was no eagerness in Daniel’s steps, no desire to catch Miss Marks so that he might speak with her instead of with Miss Crosby. Instead, Daniel found himself wanting to linger with Miss Crosby, finding he could speak to the lady much more easily than he had ever been able to converse with Miss Marks! Their conversation flowed easily; he found her witty and bright, and the way she smiled made his heart lift. He had not seen her smile so nor speak so openly in any of their previous interactions, but just how much she had changed when he had shown her a little attention! It was truly remarkable.
“Ah, there you are.”
Miss Marks grasped his attention almost immediately and, a trifle unwillingly, Daniel moved a little quicker towards both her and Lady Smithton, who was looking at him with something of a knowing smile on her face.
“I am at your service, Miss Marks,” he replied grandly, although he did not let go of Miss Crosby’s arm. “I do apologize if we are tardy. The park is very crowded and—”
“There is no need to apologize,” Miss Marks replied with a wave of her hand and a gentle laugh Daniel suspected was a trifle forced. “I am glad to have you in my company now, however.” She lifted one hand and held it out to him, making him realize with a start that she now expected him to come to her side and walk with her instead of with Miss Crosby. The regret that filled him as he let go of Miss Crosby’s hand with an apologetic smile and a murmur of thanks surprised him completely, having not expected to feel any such thing after what had only been a short walk together. Stepping forward, he waited until Miss Marks had placed her hand on his arm and, turning his back on Miss Crosby, began to stroll through the park. And yet, as he did so, the urge to turn back to Miss Crosby grew within him, but he had to do everything he could to reject it. Over and over, he told himself Miss Marks was to be the object of his attention, that he had a purpose and reason to focus all of himself upon her, and yet, still, the urge remained.
A dead weight began to sink through his soul as he walked with Miss Marks. It was an inexplicable feeling, for this was what he had intended for a long time; what he had known he had needed to do. This was the only way for consequences to be brought upon this family, the only way for his own family to feel any justice—and he was not about to stop himself now. No, he resolved as Miss Marks continued to talk about something or other, he would not allow any strange feelings of contentment and enjoyment in the company of Miss Crosby to pull him from his intentions. He would do everything he must in order to achieve his goals. It was, he decided, probably best that he stay well away from Miss Crosby. He should have nothing more to do with her and focus all of his attention on Miss Marks as he had always intended. Nothing could distract him now, not when he was so close to achievement.
But what will she think of you?
Throwing that thought aside before it could stab at his heart, Daniel turned his head towards Miss Marks and tried to pay attention to what she was saying. He had made his decision. Smiling and waving at one or two acquaintances, he put everything he had into playing the part of a perfect gentleman, truly delighted with the company of the beautiful Miss Marks walking alongside him.
Chapter Seven
“You have been given an afternoon of freedom then.”
Sarah laughed and rolled her eyes at Lady Smithton. “My cousin has decided that I am to be allowed to depart from her company for a time, but only because she is having her hair set in what I understand is a hugely ornate and quite wonderous style,” she answered, seeing Lady Smithton smile broadly. “It is to take a good few hours, and as I am not required, I begged to be allowed to call upon you for a short while.”
“And now we are as two ladies of leisure,” Lady Smithton agreed, spreading one arm out wide as though to prepare the London streets for their company. “Where shall we go this afternoon, Miss Crosby? The bookshop? To Gunter’s? Where is it that you wish to go?”
Sarah smiled contentedly and shrugged. “I do not mind so very much,” she answered quietly. “I am just glad to be out walking and free from my cousin’s company for a time.”
“I can well understand that,” Lady Smithton replied with a knowing look. “She does rather monopolize the attention of those around her, does she not?”
Inwardly sighing as she recalled just how swiftly Lord Ruddington had gone to Miss Marks’ side after walking with her through the park, Sarah tried to smile and throw off the remark but found that she could not do so easily. It had been some days ago since they had been together in the park, but Lord Ruddington had called again only yesterday, and he and Miss Marks had enjoyed tea, honey cakes, and a good deal of conversation, whilst leaving Sarah to sit quietly in the corner, unobtrusive and unnoticed.
“You enjoy his company, do you not?”
Mortified that her interest had become so apparent, Sarah turned her face away, praying that her bonnet would hide her cheeks.
“There is nothing wrong with that, Miss Crosby,” Lady Smithton said gently. “You need not be embarrassed about it or feel as though you are behaving in an inappropriate manner. He is a kind and handsome gentleman and, from what it seemed, enjoyed your company as you enjoyed his.”
Sarah shook her head at this. “He was being considerate, Lady Smithton; that is all. I am well aware he is in pursuit of Miss Marks, and therefore, my interest in him, as minute as it is, must be nothing more than foolishness.”
Lady Smithton said nothing in response to this, and so they walked on through the London streets for a few minutes in silence. Sarah’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as she thought of her time with Lord Ruddington, hating that Lady Smithton had been able to see her interest with such apparent ease. Did that mean Lord Ruddington himself had been aware of it? Sarah could think of nothing worse, for to have the gentleman aware of her enjoyment of his company a
nd the quickening of her heart as she had placed her hand on his arm was genuinely embarrassing. Over and over, she kept telling herself Lord Ruddington was pursuing her cousin and that, therefore, she had no right to feel anything of the sort—but her thoughts continued to turn to him regardless.
“Again, I say there is nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Crosby,” Lady Smithton said, gesturing towards a bookshop. “You are as much a lady as your cousin, are you not?” She did not wait for Sarah to answer but instead began to make her way towards the shop door. “Shall we go in here? I am always partial to a new book.”
Sarah nodded and followed without a word, thinking quietly to herself that although Lady Smithton was correct to state that she was as much a lady as Miss Marks and just as titled, given her own father was a viscount, she did not have the same striking beauty, the same interesting character, nor the same efficacy that seemed to draw people to her. That was why she was the companion and Miss Marks the beautiful, eligible young lady who was to make her way through society and conquer it as best she could.
“Good afternoon,” she murmured to the man behind the desk as he bowed his head to greet her. The shop was quiet and quaint in appearance. It had long wooden shelves filled with books, with ornate carvings running along the top of each shelf. Upon hearing a creaking coming from above her, she looked up at the ceiling, wondering if there was another part of the bookshop above them.
“There is a stair that leads you up there,” the bookshop keeper said quietly, obviously seeing the direction of her gaze. “Those books are some of the rarest and most expensive books in my shop, but you are very welcome to peruse them, of course.” He inclined his head again, making her smile.
“Thank you,” she murmured, seeing Lady Smithton nod as she turned towards the staircase. There was something quite lovely about this bookshop, she thought, making her way up the staircase and smelling the dusty pages of a great many books. There were so many bookshops here in London, but this one seemed particularly special. Whether it was merely the ambiance or the ornate patterns that seemed to be on almost every surface, Sarah felt herself fill with a sense of quiet peace. This was a truly wonderful place.
Large bookcases were pressed end to end, making small passages between them where one might escape into a world of literature. Meandering slowly along the bookshelves, Sarah let out a long breath and wandered to the window that overlooked the London streets. There was something about this place that made her feel as though she were quite safe: protected from anything that might bring her harm. Mayhap protected from her own thoughts, from her confusing feelings regarding Lord Ruddington. Sighing heavily, Sarah closed her eyes for a moment and was immediately transported back to that moment when he had helped her down from the carriage, when he had put his hands about her waist and held her for a long moment, even though she was already firmly on the ground. How strange that had been! She had been captured by the look in his eyes, her breath hitching and her heart pounding with a furiousness that she was certain he could hear.
And then someone nearby had laughed aloud, and she had been jerked back to the reality of their circumstances. Lord Ruddington had stepped back whilst she had turned her head away, smoothing her gown even though it had no wrinkles, merely so that she had something to do that might remove the awkwardness from them both. And then Lord Ruddington had offered her his arm, and she had taken it without question, feeling the same frissons of delight flurry up her arm and into her heart.
“You must forget this,” she told herself, softly, opening her eyes and looking aimlessly out onto the street.
The day was beautiful and warm, with the sun shining brightly. The cheerful faces of those who walked here and there made Sarah smile, her gaze roving from person to person before snagging on someone she recognized.
The peace she had felt was gone in a moment. Lord Ruddington was talking to a young lady—a young lady who was not Miss Marks, and he was walking arm in arm with her. The young lady in question was hauntingly beautiful, with her eyes fixed upon Lord Ruddington as he bent his head low towards her. They were walking slowly, clearly taking their time and having no inclination to hurry. Her heart sank to the floor, although she berated herself for allowing such a foolish sorrow when she knew she meant nothing to him. Lord Ruddington was, of course, permitted to court whomever he wished, and since he had not made any specific requests towards her cousin, Sarah knew he was not doing anything improper. All the same, she wondered if Lord Ruddington was something of a rogue, although she had never had that particular impression of him. Mayhap he enjoyed the company of young ladies, which was not a sin by any means. Or mayhap he feared Miss Marks would reject him and did not want to have no one else to turn to when that moment came. It was not as though her cousin was known to be single-minded when it came to gentlemen of the ton, Sarah thought to herself ruefully, aware of the heat that climbed into her cheeks as she continued to watch him.
He was very handsome.
For a moment, Sarah found herself longing to be as that young lady was. She found herself wanting to be the one walking arm in arm with Lord Ruddington through the crowd, paraded on his arm so that all of society might take notice. But then, reason and sense came back to her, and she turned away from the window, knowing such a thing would never be.
Her hand against her heart as though it might soothe some of the pain that lingered within it, Sarah continued to wander through the bookshop, hiding in between the tall bookcases that held, as far as the proprietor had said, some of the most expensive and rare books that could ever be found. A small smile touched the corner of her mouth, wondering if the proprietor hoped to make a good sale from herself and Lady Smithton in telling her such a thing as that. Not that she would mind spending some money here, for she did have a little money of her own and books were a very good thing to spend her coins on. Trying to put all thought of Lord Ruddington from her mind, she began to look at the books with a good deal more interest, pulling out one that appeared to be a collection of short stories. Opening the book at random, she began to read, finding the story to be quite interesting after all.
“I know you would care for a new book or two, my dear.”
A low voice caught her ears, making her tremble violently as she looked up from her book. Why, why must he torment her so? He was here now, in the very same bookshop as she when Sarah had only just managed to set her thoughts of him aside!
“You are very kind, Ruddington,” said the young lady, keeping her voice low but still distinct given they were now drawing very close to Sarah. “I thank you.” There was a short pause, and then the young lady spoke again, her voice a little teasing. “You do know me very well, do you not?”
A gruff laugh escaped from Lord Ruddington, and Sarah shrank back against the bookshelves, fearing they were about to stumble upon her at any moment.
“I know you exceedingly well,” he agreed, making Sarah wonder, even in her fright, who the gentleman might be referring to. “Now, books. Shall you peruse them, or should you like me to seek some out for you?”
The lady laughed softly. “Even though you might think you know me exceedingly well, Ruddington, I think you will find I am better able to choose books for myself than you might be.” She laughed again and then her footsteps carried her away from Sarah, and perhaps, Sarah hoped, making her way down the stairs again. Where Lord Ruddington was, she could not say. Her heart was pounding furiously, her hands clammy and damp. In fact, so clammy were they that the book she held slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, making her clamp over her mouth in fear. Would Lord Ruddington find her? And what would he say when she did? Desperately, her skirts flying about her, she bent low, scooped up the book, and raised herself again, only to see the astonished face of Lord Ruddington staring at her. His eyes were fixed upon hers, the grayness in his eyes seeming to darken with every second of silence that passed between them. His mouth was set firm, and lines of tension grooved into his forehead.
“Lord Ruddington
,” Sarah murmured, trying to appear as unaffected as possible. “Good afternoon.” She kept her voice low, not wanting to interrupt the quiet peace of the bookshop.”
Lord Ruddington cleared his throat abruptly, cutting through the otherwise silent bookshop with a harshness than made her wince.
“Miss Crosby,” he replied, with a curt bow. “I did not expect to see you here.”
She glanced about her, hearing his voice reverberate off the walls and seeing him drop his head for a moment, clearly a little embarrassed at how loud he had been.
“My apologies,” he murmured, coming a little closer to her and making her breath catch with the awareness that they were, once again, almost entirely alone. There were one or two others within the bookshop as well, she knew, but whether or not they had both descended the stairs, she could not say. Had the young lady Lord Ruddington had walked in with also gone back down the stairs?
“Have you found anything interesting?”
“Interesting?” she repeated, her voice thin and her cheeks filling with color.
“The book.” He gestured towards the book she had clutched in her hands, which Sarah only realized she still held as she glanced down at it. “Is it of interest?”
She swallowed hard, trying desperately to remember what she had been reading before he had appeared. When he was standing close to her, when he was almost entirely alone with her, she could not seem to think clearly.
“I—yes,” she stammered, her cheeks filling with color as she tried to smile. “Yes. A collection of short stories, I believe. I had thought to—”
“An excellent choice,” he interrupted, still not smiling at her but rather looking back at her with an almost grave expression.
“I thank you,” she murmured, still a little surprised with his strange, somewhat awkward demeanor. He had been taken aback to see her here, yes, but why was there now this strange tension hovering between them? “Have you had a pleasant afternoon, Lord Ruddington?”
A Gentleman's Revenge (The Spinsters Guild, #3) Page 7
