Her Lady's Whims and Fancies: Sweet Regency Romance (Lords for the Sisters of Sussex Book 3)

by Jen Geigle Johnson

  “Oh my,” Miss Kate murmured under her breath.

  “I think if my sister had not just arrived, I would be on my way to collect Lord Ballustrade and be off,” Logan said.

  His sister sat at his other side and leaned across. “Miss Kate, is it?” She held out her hand. “I’m so pleased to meet you. I’ve come today hoping we could have a cozy chat, but it seems this room is full.”

  Conversation between Miss Charity and Lord Harrison seemed to become quite intense. The other lords who’d come with him watched with amusement. And Logan couldn’t say immediately how things would go. “Perhaps a tour? Or a walk on the grounds?” he suggested.

  “Oh, the grounds are lovely right now. The weather is gorgeous this morning.” Julia said.

  “I would love a walk.” Miss Kate stood. “For those interested, we are out to the side gardens.”

  Miss Charity waved to her sister, obviously only half-listening. But Lord Ballustrade and Miss Grace stood immediately.

  Lord Tanner seemed interested in a conversation with Miss Lucy, and they gave no indication of having heard anything else in the room. Her Grace stood to join them, but then turned back to the other ladies, looking from one to the other, and sat again.

  “Her Grace is a good friend, is she not?” Logan noticed she would stay in the sitting room to help the other sisters.

  “One of the best.” Miss Kate smiled fondly and waved before they left.

  She led them past the front door, seemingly toward a side entrance, just as another carriage arrived. She paused and eyed the equipage for a moment before continuing on.

  “Would you like to remain? Will your sisters manage well without the two of you?” Logan paused.

  Miss Grace nodded. “They will be fine. The duke will join his wife any moment now, and even Charity will curb her tongue.” She laughed. “Oh, perhaps I shouldn’t have said such a thing.”

  “Perhaps not.” Miss Kate eyed her, but then linked their arms. “We are happy at least to be out in the fresh air for a time, aren’t we?”

  “We are.”

  Logan envied that cozy companionship, and wished for Miss Kate’s hand on his arm. But his sister took his other arm instead.

  Lord Ballustrade situated himself on the other side of Miss Grace. “I find this smaller group highly enjoyable.”

  Miss Kate immediately perked up, and Logan wished even more that he had her on his arm instead.

  “Tell me, Lord Ballustrade. Tell me more about this lovely vest. The stitches. I can’t look away, it is so beautiful.”

  His friend puffed his chest and began a lengthy discussion of the experience of convincing his tailor to do such a thing.

  He murmured, close to Julia. “Do I sound like him when discussing my cravats?” His voice was low, and he knew his sister would respond honestly. He braced himself for her response.

  “I thought you wanted to appear self-centered and ridiculous.”

  He cringed. “Thank you, sister.”

  Her fingers on his arm tugged him closer to her side. “But you are much more charming about it. And more aloof. Except for these last few days, you keep yourself aloof, emotionally distant, unreachable. It . . . adds to the effect.” She sighed. “But I don’t know why you must behave in this manner. Since you are asking, I will tell you I greatly miss the Logan I’ve always known.”

  “Perhaps this was all there ever was to know.”

  She shook her head. “I cannot believe it. Just like I don’t believe Miss Kate focuses so much on fashion simply to amuse herself.”

  “Does she not?”

  “There is an intensity about her interest . . .” His sister’s voice trailed off. “I like her.”

  Logan followed her gaze to the now animated and passionate woman who was discussing thread type and color. “We don’t know anything about her.”

  “And yet, here we are.” Julia’s knowing gaze prickled at him.

  “I’m here simply to make amends. I knew she would like to talk to Lord Ballustrade.”

  “Hmm.”

  He knew she didn’t believe him. He hardly believed himself. But why was he here? He certainly had no use for a relationship. He had seen in Olivia what happened when he became close with a woman. “You can erase any thoughts you have about me wanting to pursue a relationship with any simpering, silly woman of the ton. I have no use for their wily ways that reel in and entrap a man, only to leave him alone.” The words caught in his throat. The intensity of his feelings created a whisper so forced, it was louder than he anticipated.

  Conversation had stopped, and every eye was on him.

  Miss Kate’s face had become a mask, and the others seemed shocked.

  Lord Ballustrade laughed. “I think perhaps Lord Dennison’s cravat is too tight.”

  The others joined in, and Logan frowned. They arrived at a lovely hedge wall with an arbor entrance into something that seemed enchanting, full of roses; the sounds of a fountain trickled out to where they stood.

  Another carriage arrived at the front of the castle. And the happy chatter of women reached their ears.

  Miss Kate waved, and some of the women headed over to them.

  Logan groaned.

  “If you are going to be so surly, we should go,” Julia said.

  “We came separately.”

  “Then I’ll be more precise. You should go. Unless you can behave in a more pleasant manner. No one here needs to be insulted by you.”

  “I’m not making the best amends, am I?”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “I cannot help myself. She hurt me.” The words fell from his lips like the others had, without his planning them. When he turned to Julia to see their impact, he had to look away from the tears and pity on her face.

  He handed her a handkerchief. “Please, sister, you make me feel like a wet, half-drowned puppy with your compassion.”

  “You are nothing of the kind. But a sister can feel things, can’t she?”

  “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” He sighed. “And how may I make even greater amends?”

  “I’m not sure your plans at making amends are working in your favor.”

  “Too true.”

  Miss Kate was now walking on Lord Ballustrade’s arm, entering the gardens alone.

  “Perhaps it is for the best,” Logan said. “If they make something of themselves, she just might think of me as the cause, and then my amends will be complete.”

  “I suspect you might not be satisfied with such a result.” Julia tugged at him to follow the couple. “But I will stop speaking. You will lash out again and pit yourself against those whom we hope to befriend.”

  He reluctantly allowed her soft tug on his arm to lead him into the gardens. Miss Grace waited for a group of women who were chattering and laughing. She seemed to know them and had stepped in their direction.

  “I’m going to distract Lord Ballustrade. You walk with Miss Kate and use your best manners.”

  “What? No.”

  Julia stepped away, and he had no choice but to follow. They both approached a singularly stunning cascade of roses to hear Miss Kate say, “There is just no imitating such a glorious display. Nothing in art, no clothing, nothing I’ve read can equal this masterpiece right here.” The expression she lifted up into the sun as she gazed upon the flowers had such a serenity, such a peace of mind that Logan wanted to step closer. Did peace rub off on a person?

  He reached out a hand to brush against the soft petals of a low-hanging rose. Then cupped it carefully so that he might smell it. “We could never imitate such beauty, no, but at times, I see this glorious demonstration reflected in others.”

  Miss Kate’s eyes lit with interest. “What an intriguing thought. Not an imitation, no, but a reflection, shining back what beauty is possible from the limited reflection.”

  Logan watched her face with some unveiled fascination as she considered his words. And then, without thinking, he held out his arm. “Could we
continue this conversation while we circle the gardens?”

  “And I would love some time with Lord Ballustrade.” Julia linked her arm with his. “Perhaps I can finagle his next fashion plans and be the first to know.”

  Miss Kate looked wistful for a moment until Logan murmured, “I can tell you his plans.”

  Then she turned the full attention of her large and attentive eyes and full mouth on him. He had not yet studied her mouth, but now that he had looked, he couldn’t look away. But he must.

  When his gaze returned to her eyes, he grinned at her raised brow. Then he started their walk along the edge of the gardens.

  She surprised him by starting the conversation. “I admit to being quite struck by your comment and have now determined to attempt my own reflection of all the beauty I see.”

  “I admit to thinking of you when I said those words.”

  She stumbled. “You . . . were?”

  “Certainly. Your face just now, staring up into the flowers, was a reflection of their beauty, your own peace.” Why was he being so open and baring his soul to this woman? “I thought it lovely.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  They walked in silence a moment more. And he knew this was his chance to make all right between them. “I do apologize for my harsh words. You were not meant to hear them, and in truth, they weren’t directed at you.”

  “I think I understand. You are hurting. And something particularly difficult came to mind, so you lashed out, not thinking any would hear but your sister?”

  “Yes, more or less that.”

  “And don’t you think your sister might also not wish to hear such a thing? Who wants to hear such negativity, whether directed at your own person or not?”

  “No one. Surely. I understand what you are saying. I’m merely apologizing for the manner in which my words affected you.”

  “I see. You know, you don’t know me at all. You have no idea why I do what I do, and what if fashion were my passion? What is wrong with a passion when so many of our acquaintance have none? Better to be passionate about something than endlessly bored or critical about everything.”

  “Yes, point taken. As I said, I’m here to apologize about the one time . . .”

  “I will accept your apology, but I cannot help but think you will be dreadful company until you find a way to once again be happy with your situation. To appreciate others for the things they most enjoy, to allow them . . . space. You know, I first decided to make a study of fashion out of necessity? And it has become a passion. You wouldn’t know because you made an immediate and rash judgement of me, one that was unmerited, undeserved.”

  Logan kept his frustration below the surface. No need to insult the woman again in the act of apologizing, but Miss Kate was not making things easy. “And as I said, I’m sorry for my words—my unthinking words, spoken in anger, were directed at another, but you bore the brunt.” There. Now perhaps, she would leave it be.

  “Is that why you’ve come? To apologize?”

  “Yes. I made a bumbling mess of my apology at the ball, and have come to further rectify my unthinking words.”

  “Then I thank you.” She stepped nearer. “Not many have the courage or humility to do such a thing. I’m happily surprised to see that you do.”

  Surprised? Irritation brewed. But he wouldn’t respond. Of course, she might be surprised. He’d given precious few people any reason to think he was a person of any depth. Was she not making assumptions about him?

  “Thank you,” he said. He gritted his teeth and tried to pay closer attention to the lovely garden. “Your gardeners are excellent.”

  “Oh, thank you. Lord Morley has done so much to make this place the beauty it once was. He and the Duke of Granbury are a godsend to us.”

  “I see that. I would enjoy a tour of the castle. I’m quite fascinated by the history.”

  “There is an old crate I think you might enjoy. It was filled with gowns.”

  He snorted.

  And she frowned.

  “I agree. I would enjoy something so intriguing. Perhaps I might enjoy it more were it to have the latest styles of jackets in our day and time. Did you not mention that mine was out of date?”

  Miss Kate’s skin colored a pretty pink, and Logan enjoyed the view for a moment.

  “I did say that—however, I was merely doing my own version of lashing out at you. Your jacket is just lovely today. I think if you were to stand next to these next roses up here, you would match perfectly.”

  Was she making fun, or was she complimenting him? He couldn’t tell, but he stepped up to the roses, put a hand in one pocket, and lifted his chin, as though posing for a portrait.

  Lord Ballustrade called over to him, “Oh, where is the painter when we need him?”

  But Miss Kate laughed, and that made all the antics worth it. Her face lit with her happiness. “You do match. That lavender and especially the green look they belong right here in our garden.”

  “Then I shall have to return. And you know what you’ve done.”

  “What is that?”

  He returned to offer his arm again.

  Her returning hand comforted with the feeling that he had missed in its absence.

  “I shall not be able to wear this particular jacket or these colors without thinking of you.”

  “That is a quandary.”

  “Why a quandary?”

  “Because if I come to mind at every use of these bright colors, I will be on your mind much indeed.”

  Logan considered her words, then turned to catch her eye. “And now I’m wondering if that would be such a quandary at all.”

  She didn’t respond, but her small smile in response gave him a strange sort of hope. Was he hoping for more with the lovely Miss Kate? He hadn’t thought so.

  “And now, we shall enter the final gardens to see the lovely fountain.”

  “I’ve been hearing its delightful sounds through the whole of our conversations. And I would think only at how much I missed seeing it in person were we to turn back now.”

  The fountain was simple in many ways. It didn’t rise up to the sky like some. Nor did it boast multiple sea creatures or mer-people, like he’d seen in others. A lone woman stood tall, her face to the sky. She was surrounded by four other women, all in various angles and positions, some pointing outward, some looking down, one looking up into the sky with the first. He was stunned by the beauty in the expression. He moved to stand in front of one. She swished her skirts, her chin was lifted, and she looked to have an energy about her. “This is quite good.” He looked to Miss Kate and back at the sculpture. “This is you.”

  She nodded. “Yes. Lord Morley had this commissioned as soon as June said yes.”

  He chuckled. “Absolutely a man in love.”

  “We are all in love with him. He’s the brother we have often wished for. He was almost immediately a part of our family, even before June and he were certain they belonged together.”

  “Belonged together.” Logan almost snorted, but wisely kept his cynicism to himself.

  “Yes.” Miss Kate’s expression told him he best not challenge the idea, so he didn’t.

  “I’m happy for them.” There. That should suffice.

  “But you do not believe they belong together?” Her arms crossed her chest.

  Confound it. Couldn’t she just leave well enough alone? He was having a difficult enough time of it, keeping his words placid and unremarkably supportive. “How could I know whether or not they belonged together?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Then I am even more pleased for them.”

  “But you don’t believe in such things.”

  “I did not say that.”

  Her frown deepened.

  “This frown. That is unfair. As I’ve said nothing to indicate any sort of disagreement.”

  “But you are thinking it.”

  “And how could you know that?” He laughed. Her lips had almost formed a po
ut, and he was delighted to have elicited such a response. Now that he hoped they were on safer ground, he shrugged. “I once thought such things were possible.”

  She nodded and said nothing more. Perhaps his answer was sufficient.

  “They still could be.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps for some.”

  They circled the fountain and joined Julia, who asked, “Can you guess which sister is which?” He reached his hand down to trail in the water.

  “Have you found Miss Kate?” Julia continued, grinning.

  “Right away.”

  Lord Ballustrade pointed upward. “Lady Morley, certainly.”

  “And that must be Charity,” Julia said. The figure had her hand out, but as though she were speaking. “I admire her opinions, her well-studied thought.” Julia nodded.

  They discussed each sister until Miss Grace arrived with the others.

  Without thinking much about it, Logan stood taller, his stance changed, his hand went to his hip, and he distanced himself from their group.

  Miss Kate eyed him for a moment, but then she went to the others. Their greeting and cheerful carryings on seemed farther away. Julia joined him. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, I think all is well now. We can leave this family in peace.”

  “Can we?” Her one wiggling eyebrow irritated him, but he displayed his most bored expression. “Why would we not?”

  Their stroll around the opposite side of the garden and then out the exit was slow and unnoticed, but as his eyes flitted back, Miss Kate’s gaze met his own. She nodded, and he left.

  And that was the end of his interactions with Miss Kate.

  “Thank heavens, that is over with.”

  Julia smiled some kind of secret that he had no use for, and they made their way to the front and their waiting carriage.

  Chapter Six

  Kate watched Lord Dennison’s retreating form until she could no longer see him. She could no sooner make him out than she had earlier. But she did forgive him somewhat. His words still stung, but he’d attempted with a good heart to apologize, and how could she hang onto bitterness when no hurt was intended?

  Even later in the day, while drawing his oversized cravat for Whims and Fancies, she had warm thoughts toward him. She hoped he would take her drawings and comments about his style in the spirit they were meant. She supported his difference, his uniqueness of style and fashion-forward sense. She understood it. She wasn’t certain why he had become such a paragon of fashion, but she herself appreciated his skill. Even though her words might have poked a bit of fun, she hoped that they would only bring him greater notoriety and attention, which he seemed to crave. She paused. Perhaps not attention. He craved . . . influence? Or power? Or perhaps it was just simply distance.