De Gray’s voice was deep and quiet, containing a pleasant trace of raspiness. “There’s no need to be skittish.”
Realizing she was as stiff as a board, Lidian forced her muscles to loosen. As they danced, many people in the crowd watched them closely. Women snapped open their silk fans and whispered behind them. Acutely aware of the attention they were receiving, Lidian frowned in discomfort.
“Don’t you like to dance, Miss Acland?” De Gray asked.
“You would have done better to ask someone else,” she said bluntly.
He stared at her quizzically, one brow arching. “Why is that?”
“Because I’m promised to someone.”
“You’re betrothed?”
“Not formally. But I’ve given my heart to him.” She looked into his eyes and added meaningfully, “He’s my one true love.”
Rather than looking chagrined, De Gray seemed amused. “Where is this true love of yours, Miss Acland?”
“He’s touring the continent at present. But he’s coming for me soon.”
“Of course,” he said in a patronizing tone. “In the meantime—”
“In the meantime I’ll wait for him.”
“For how long?”
“Forever, if necessary.”
“He must be quite a man to merit such devotion.”
“Yes, he…” Lidian forgot what she had meant to say, as she stared into his green-gray eyes. He had a peculiar effect on her, making her feel slightly off balance. She had never thought to be stirred by someone so unlike Chance. De Gray had none of Chance’s boyishly naughty charm, none of his roguish flair. Instead he was self-assured and intimidating. She tried to imagine what De Gray would be like if he were in love. He would be overwhelming. He would have the power to put a woman through hell if he chose. A chill went down her spine at the thought. Thank heaven he didn’t have such power over her!
“Tell me about him,” De Gray said.
Lidian wrinkled her brow as she tried to find the right words to describe Chance. “He’s handsome…full of life…elusive. He doesn’t like to stay in one place for long. He craves excitement and adventure, and he sweeps everyone along with him.”
Eric was fascinated by the way her shyness had dropped away for one brief moment, letting him glimpse the romantic soul beneath. She was inexperienced with men—and it was clear what her misguided loyalty to her errant lover would cost her. “When was the last time you were with him?” he asked. When she averted her gaze and refused to answer, he prodded her insistently. “A year? More?”
“One year,” she said crisply.
“Does he write to you?”
She refused to show any sign of temper. Her face became as closed and blank as before. “I don’t wish to talk about him.”
“Certainly, Miss Acland.”
Although his tone was polite, Lidian knew very well what he was thinking—that she was a fool, and Chance would never come for her. She wished impatiently for the waltz to end. Arrogant man! He didn’t know anything about Chance. He didn’t understand the magic that bound Chance to her, and her to him. What they had shared was far out of the ordinary: the sweet, dizzying kisses, the way Chance teased her, the way she had never seemed to stop smiling when he was near. Chance seemed to have walked out from the pages of the romantic novels she had read so avidly, or the poems of passionate longing and love. She wanted nothing less than that.
The music ended with a flourish, and Lord De Gray escorted Lidian to the side of the room, where her mother waited. Elizabeth was calm as she exchanged a few words with De Gray, but underneath Lidian could see that her mother was filled with excitement.
“My lord,” Elizabeth said with a smile, “I’m certain you don’t remember me. The last time I saw you, you were still a small boy—”
“I recall a little, Lady Acland,” De Gray said. “You used to visit and paint watercolors with my mother.”
“Yes, that’s exactly right! Please tell the duchess I remember her most fondly.”
“I hope you’ll grace our parlor again soon, Lady Acland. I’ll convey your good wishes to my mother.” He bent over Elizabeth’s hand and kissed it respectfully, then turned to Lidian. There was a teasing glint in his greenish eyes. “Thank you for the dance, Miss Acland.”
Lidian gave him a perfunctory curtsy, still smarting from his prying questions and condescending attitude. She turned her back on De Gray as he left them, and sighed with relief that the episode was over.
To her dismay, she saw that her mother’s eyes were filled with the eager light of matchmaking. “He’s as charming as he is handsome,” Elizabeth exclaimed. “And when you danced, you looked so wonderful together—”
“Nothing will come of this, Mama,” Lidian said flatly. “He is besieged with hopeful women. And I told him I wasn’t interested in marriage.”
“You told him what?” Elizabeth’s excitement began to deflate rapidly. “Lidian, say you’re only teasing—”
“It’s true. I made him understand that I’m waiting for another man.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth’s forehead was wreathed in disappointment. “All I can say is, I hope you’re aware of what you’re doing, Lidian. Turning away a man like De Gray, while you pin your hopes on that blackguard Chance Spencer…” She shook her head and firmed her jaw. “I’ve been meaning to tell you about a decision I’ve made recently.”
Lidian shot her mother a wary glance, waiting for her to continue.
“The other day I saw an advertisement for a small house to be let for the season—it’s in a good location, a little south of St. James. It will suit us quite well.”
“There’s absolutely no need for us to lease a London house,” Lidian said in bewilderment. “We can barely afford to keep the roof over our heads as it is. Mama, you can’t be suggesting that we waste money staying in London in order to find a husband for me!”
“It’s not a waste,” Elizabeth countered stubbornly. “It’s an investment in your future. You only think you love Chance because you’ve never truly associated with any other men. After some exposure in the city, you’ll see how much more life has to offer.”
“Mama, this is the most ridiculous notion you’ve ever had—”
“I’ve made up my mind.”
“We’ll be ruined!”
“Perhaps. But at least you’ll have had a decent chance at a husband. And if John were alive, I know he would agree with me completely.” She walked away toward an empty chair while Lidian scowled after her.
2
Lidian sat in Acland Hall’s small library, in the chair her father had once occupied. Painstakingly she totaled the most recent entries in her account books. In the meantime Elizabeth supervised their small staff—two maids and a cook—as they went about their daily tasks of cleaning and mending. Since they could not afford more help, Elizabeth was always busy with tasks that other women of her station were seldom required to do. John Acland had left his family with a tiny inheritance, and an annual income from the estate that barely covered their meager expenses.
Lidian was diligent in her role as estate manager, attending to the tenants’ needs as well as those of the Acland family and servants. It was a tiresome responsibility, always scrimping and economizing, never climbing out of debt. The house was beginning to reflect their hard circumstances, but it hadn’t yet lost its charm. Acland Hall and all its furnishings were old and worn but lovingly tended. The wood panels were brightly polished, and the faded carpets and upholsteries were kept immaculate.
If only they could restore the house to its former beauty someday! Lidian felt guilty for not having married someone who could make that possible. Her mother deserved an easy, comfortable life. Lidian knew she was being selfish, thinking of her own desires instead of what was best for her family and its dependents. But she couldn’t help loving Chance and dreaming of a life with him. And she couldn’t bear the idea of a cold, practical arranged marriage.
As she stared at the long list of
numbers, written in her own tidy hand, Lidian heard a muffled knock at the front door. One of the maids answered it, and soon afterward came an exclamation of delight from Elizabeth. Curiously Lidian set down her pen and left the library. She went to the entrance hall and stopped in amazement. Her mother and a housemaid were struggling to hoist an enormous flower arrangement onto the mahogany table in the center of the hall.
“How beautiful,” Lidian said, her eyes wide with surprise.
Elizabeth rushed to her with a small card clutched in her fingers. “It was just delivered for you. Here, you must read this at once!”
Smiling at her mother’s enthusiasm, Lidian opened the card.
With thanks for your gracious gift to Dollie—
Lord De Gray
The arrangement consisted of pink orchids, exactly like the one she had pinned on Dollie’s gown last night. Lidian stared in shock at the profusion of costly flowers. No one had ever made such a grand gesture to her before. Slowly she gave the card to Elizabeth and reached for one of the blossoms, pulling it from the arrangement and stroking its delicately arched petals.
“He intends to call on us soon,” Elizabeth said triumphantly. “I would stake my life on it.”
Lidian hardly knew what to think. “I suppose I would have no objection to that, although I don’t see why—”
“Lord De Gray has taken an interest in you, Lidian!” In a flash Elizabeth’s mind turned to practical considerations. “We must rearrange the furniture in the parlor and exchange that worn needlepoint chair with the good one upstairs—oh, and the cook must have some cakes and biscuits prepared for when he arrives…” She hastened to the kitchen while Lidian stared at the flowers in bewilderment.
Contrary to Elizabeth’s excited expectations, Lord De Gray did not come to call. Although Lidian was relieved for her own sake, she became more and more annoyed with Lord De Gray as she saw her mother’s hopes deflate day after day. Unfortunately, the episode seemed to have made Elizabeth all the more determined to lease a house in London for the rest of the season. So far Lidian had managed to dissuade her, but she knew her mother hadn’t yet given up hope.
Busily Elizabeth sorted through the handful of invitations they received for the next month’s events and insisted that Lidian accompany her to a private ball given by friends in London. “We never miss the Willoughbys’ annual dance,” Elizabeth said emphatically, “and this year it is especially important that we attend.”
“Why this year?” Lidian asked dryly.
“Because Lady Willoughby mentioned in her letter to me that several prominent unmarried gentlemen have been invited—including Lord De Gray.”
“I have no interest in Lord De Gray or any other man except for—”
“Don’t mention his name,” Elizabeth pleaded, clapping her hands over her ears. “Promise you’ll attend, Lidian. For my sake. Please.”
The Willoughbys’ London town house was elegantly furnished in the French style, with delicate chairs and tables poised against a lush backdrop of paintings and silk-covered walls. The ballroom floor had been polished to a brilliant gleam, while the air was richly scented with beeswax and flowers.
The luxury of the scene made Lidian glad that she had worn her only new dress for the season, a white sarcenet silk overlaid with mint-green gauze. The bodice was cut in the newest fashion, with the waist set at least two inches below last year’s style. It emphasized the roundness of her breasts and draped over her hips in gentle folds. She had curled her dark hair with hot tongs and pulled it all up on the crown of her head. An extra number of hairpins had gone into her coiffure in an attempt to secure the mass of silky black curls, most of it too soft and fine to stay confined for long.
Dutifully Lidian exchanged greetings with the Willoughbys and accompanied her mother to the refreshment room. They chatted with friends and ate delicacies from small china plates while music from the adjoining ballroom drifted around them.
Lured by the intoxicating melody, Lidian edged to the doorway and peeked into the ballroom. Couples whirled in time to the music, smiling at each other as they moved in graceful arcs across the floor. She remembered the first time she had ever danced with Chance, at a ball just like this one. He had taken her into his arms without even being introduced, ignoring her startled laughter. “Wh-who are you?” she had spluttered, automatically following his lead. He had been wicked, dark, dashing, unlike the other polite young men who had approached her that evening.
“My name isn’t important,” he had replied, smiling down at her. “And neither is yours.”
“I beg your pardon?” She had been amazed by his audacity.
“All that matters is that we’re meant for each other.”
“You don’t even know me!” she had exclaimed.
“I know that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. You can tell me the rest later.”
Chance had swept into her life and stolen her heart with a seductive charm that would be impossible for anyone else to equal. He had made her feel beautiful, desirable, special. Wistfully Lidian watched the dancers, her mind consumed with the past. “Come back to me, Chance,” she whispered. “Come back—”
“Miss Acland.” A quiet voice startled her from her thoughts. She looked up with a start and saw Lord Eric De Gray standing before her. He was as handsome as she remembered, with aquiline features and a gaze that seemed to read her every thought. His dark golden hair was brushed back from his face, but a lock threatened to fall over his forehead. He was striking and elegant in a dark blue coat, a stiff white cravat, and beige pantaloons. Even in his relaxed stillness, there was a sense of force and energy about him that made her want to step back.
“Still pining after your absent lover?” he asked.
“I’m not pining,” she said with great dignity. “I’m waiting.”
“Can you be so certain he’s not with someone else, Miss Acland? There might be another woman in his arms this very moment.”
She responded to his taunt with a frosty look. “I’m beginning to find your conversation offensive, Lord De Gray.” She paused and added reluctantly, “But thank you for the flowers.”
He smiled, extending his hand to her. “Favor me with a dance, Miss Acland.”
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” She looked away from him, clutching the small silver dance card in her fist.
Rather than argue, he shrugged. “Very well. My regards to you and your mother.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, and watched him walk away. She experienced a moment of regret, knowing that one dance wouldn’t have signified anything. Perhaps she might even have enjoyed it. But she didn’t want to encourage De Gray or give her mother false hopes.
“Lidian?” Her mother appeared at her side. “I saw you speaking with Lord De Gray! What did he say?”
“Nothing, Mama. He merely wished to convey his regards.”
There were ripples of feminine excitement across the room as De Gray approached a group of young women and their chaperons. His sister Dollie was there, taking his arm and drawing him into a conversation with some of her companions. After a few minutes, he escorted an attractive blond to the center of the room, bowed perfunctorily, and took her in his arms for a waltz. De Gray was an exceptionally good dancer, showing off his partner to advantage.
Lidian tore her gaze from the sight and struggled with doubt and an unreasonable twinge of jealousy. For some reason she was suddenly angry with Chance and Lord De Gray and all men in general. She didn’t want to watch all these animated girls angling to catch matrimonial prizes—she wanted to be somewhere peaceful and private, away from the music and small talk.
She waited until her mother’s attention was centered on a discussion with some old friends, and then she left the room. Having been acquainted with the Willoughbys’ home for many years, she had an idea of where she wanted to go. Slipping by the ballroom, the card room where the old people were fond of congregating, and the hunting room where the men liked to smoke,
she headed to a set of receiving rooms on the other side of the house.
Finding an unoccupied parlor, Lidian closed the door behind her with a sign of relief. The room was quiet and dim, except for a burning log on the grate contained behind the firescreen. She removed her long white gloves and tossed them carelessly to the floor, then stretched her bare hands toward the fire. For a few minutes at least, she would have some peace.
The door was opened so quietly that she didn’t hear it. All at once the sound of a man’s voice startled her, and she whirled around with wide eyes.
“It’s not proper for you to be here alone, Miss Acland.”
Lord De Gray came into the room and closed the door. Dapples of red and gold firelight played across his features as he approached her, making the shadows and angles of his face more pronounced. His gaze swept over her figure, sheathed in white silk with the diaphanous overlay of pale green gauze.
Trying to recover from her surprise, Lidian answered with a touch of sarcasm. “Neither is it proper for you to be here with me, my lord. I would appreciate it if you would leave. I have no desire for your company.”
“There are only two possible reasons for that. One is that you find me unattractive—and I don’t believe that.”
Lidian was both amused and affronted. “You have quite a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?”
“The other is that you think you’re in love with another man.”
“I am in love with another man.”
“And no one could make you forget him?”
“Not for a minute.”
“No doubt he’s the only man you’ve ever kissed.”
“I’ve kissed dozens of men,” she lied coolly.
Three Weddings and a Kiss Page 24
