by Cheryl Holt
“I’m positive this rumor is ridiculous, and I must caution you to stay away from Mr. Falcon. If you won’t promise me you will, you’ll wind up stirring a dilemma I’d rather not have stirred.”
“What dilemma?”
“First off, I’d have to quietly demand he vacate the premises. Then I’d have to alert the footmen to watch for him so he couldn’t slink back to fraternize with you again. It would also mean I’d have to evict Miss Carstairs, and I won’t encourage that sort of gossip. It would be so awkward.”
“You’re being absurdly dramatic. Mr. Falcon and I are just friends!”
“You are about to become engaged, so any relationship with Mr. Falcon—even the most innocent one—is completely inappropriate.”
“I can’t marry Luke! I’ve changed my mind about it.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s not up to you. It’s up to me, and at the end of the party, I’m confident he’ll propose. Your future as Mrs. Lucas Watson is briskly winging in your direction. You can’t stop it, and I don’t want to stop it. I’m happy to have Luke as my son-in-law.”
“You picked him without thinking about me for a single minute!”
“I always think about you,” he said, “and Luke is the very best man I could have found. Would you calm down so I can finish my tea? Your complaints are giving me a terrible headache.”
He grabbed his newspaper and began reading it again. He studiously ignored her, while she seethed with fury.
She and her father never quarreled because he wouldn’t quarrel. It was impossible to fight with him. This was their most bitter conversation. She’d explained her reservations about Luke, had explained about Miss Carstairs, and her father had discounted her every comment.
How dare he scoff at her grievances! How dare he treat her like a child!
She had to locate Simon and apprise him of how shabbily her father had behaved. He’d have plenty of advice as to what she should do about it.
She jumped up and stomped to the door. As she was about to exit the room, Miss Fishburn entered. She was naught more than a glorified servant, and when she greeted Penny, Penny was rude for what was probably the only time ever. She continued on without acknowledging the other woman.
She stepped into the hall, and she glanced back, curious if her father had noticed her uncouth conduct. It would have provided him with evidence of how thoroughly he’d enraged her, but he’d already forgotten she’d been present.
He peered up at Miss Fishburn as if she hung the moon, gracing her with a look so warm and intimate that Penny was astonished.
“Good morning, Fish.” He used the casual nickname Simon and Miss Carstairs used.
“Good morning, Lord Roland.”
Miss Fishburn had utilized the proper mode of address, but they both chuckled, as if it was a private joke between them.
“You’re up so early,” she said to him, her voice oozing an innuendo Penny didn’t understand.
“I had a busy night,” he replied, “so I should be exhausted, but I’m filled with energy.”
“So am I.”
Her father winked at Miss Fishburn, and as she walked by him to dish up a plate of food, she passed his chair. Discreetly, she brushed a hand across his neck, as if she had every right to touch him in such a personal way.
There was an aura being generated that Penny couldn’t identify, but it was very disturbing. They seemed much closer than they should be. What did it indicate? What was Penny observing?
His gaze moved from Miss Fishburn and landed on Penny. He grinned a sly grin that was full of secrets, and her heart literally skipped a beat. She whipped away and rushed off, determined to find Simon as quickly as she could.
“Luke! You’re finally back. I’d been wondering if we’d see you today.”
Luke flashed a wan smile. “Hello, Charles. You weren’t worried about me, were you? I was caught in the rain yesterday, so I spent the night at Barrett.”
“I heard, so I wasn’t concerned.”
It was early afternoon, and Luke had just arrived at Roland. After loafing for hours in bed with Libby, he’d tiptoed off to his own room just before dawn broke. He’d managed to fall asleep, but only after extensive reflection about what the event might mean for them.
Now that they’d proceeded to the worst—or perhaps the best—possible ending, she’d have to change her mind about an affair. Wouldn’t she?
He’d arranged to have breakfast with her at nine, but he hadn’t staggered down until almost ten. He’d assumed she would have dined without him, but when he’d been informed that she hadn’t been down either, he’d figured she’d overslept too.
He’d sent a housemaid to rouse her, only to be notified that her room was empty and she’d left without a goodbye. He was still trying to deduce what her actions signified, but who could guess what the accursed female was thinking?
“Could I talk to you for a minute?” Charles asked. “Alone?”
Luke couldn’t conceal a wince. He was in no condition to engage in a confidential chat with Charles, but he forced out, “Of course. What did you need?”
“Let’s confer in my library, shall we?”
“Certainly, but if we have to lock ourselves away, I hope it’s nothing awful.”
“It’s not awful.” Charles frowned. “At least it’s not awful yet. I simply have to probe your opinion on an important topic.”
“Lead the way.”
They were in the front foyer at Roland, and as Charles turned and marched down the hall with Luke stumbling after him, he received the distinct impression it was no accident that he’d bumped into Charles the moment he entered the house. Had Charles been watching for him? Gad, what could have happened?
The butler went by, and Charles said to him, “Lord Barrett and I will be speaking privately. We’re not to be disturbed.”
The request heightened Luke’s apprehension. What could Charles intend to discuss? Whatever it was, Luke was sure he wouldn’t like the subject matter.
Once they were sequestered in the ostentatious room, Charles sat at the desk, and Luke pulled up the chair across. Out the windows behind Charles, he could see the picnic tents. Everything was drenched from the rain the prior day, so there would be no outside reveling.
He supposed he was facing another afternoon of cards, duet singing, and book reading. It definitely made him wish he hadn’t resigned his commission in the navy. He had no aptitude for idleness and sloth, and the hours stretched out like the road to Hades. He simply wanted to find Libby and figure out why she’d run away.
“Would you like a brandy?” Charles asked.
“No, thank you. It’s a bit early for me.”
“Would it bother you if I have one?”
“No. Go ahead.”
Luke waved him to the sideboard, observing as he poured himself a tall drink. As he sat again, he studied Luke, then he scoffed with amusement. “You’re staring at me so morosely that I might be your headmaster and about to paddle you for an infraction.”
“It feels that way.”
Charles wasn’t that much older than Luke, only sixteen years, but he seemed much older. Wiser too. Luke had spent most of his life in the navy, following orders and doing what he was told. Charles had been wed twice, sired three children, been divorced, survived scandal and the death of a daughter, debated in Parliament, served on government councils, and advised kings.
Their experiences were so different that it was difficult to view them as being part of the same species.
“I’m sorry,” Charles said. “I’m not handling this very well.”
“Handling what? Am I about to be scolded for a transgression? I must admit I don’t remember committing one.”
“It’s not that. It’s . . . it’s . . .” Charles cut off his comment, then he tsked with annoyance. “This is harder than
I thought it would be.”
“Just say it.”
“All right.” Charles took a deep breath, slowly let it out, then asked, “Are you having an affair with Miss Carstairs?”
It was the last question Luke had expected, but after Libby had passed the whole night at Barrett, he probably should have been prepared to answer it. He frantically considered what his response should be and ultimately settled on, “What makes you inquire about her?”
“I notice you didn’t deny it.”
“And I notice you haven’t explained yourself.”
“Are you in love with her? It’s the rumor that’s circulating.”
“Well . . .”
“I don’t think it’s a rumor,” Charles said. “I saw you gazing at her in the garden yesterday. Your affection was so blatant that it was almost embarrassing to witness it.”
“I like her.” It was such an understatement he was surprised the Good Lord didn’t swoop down from Heaven to call him a liar.
“But are you in love with her?” Charles pressed. “Again, you haven’t denied it. If you love her, and you propose to Penny, where will it leave my daughter?”
“Who told you about this?”
“Does it matter?”
“It matters to me,” Luke said.
“Actually, it was Penny herself.”
Luke’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Have you met Miss Carstairs’s cousin, Mr. Falcon?”
“Oh, yes, I’ve met him.”
“Apparently, he spilled the beans.”
Luke scowled. “Why would they have been discussing such an inappropriate topic?”
“Precisely,” Charles mused.
He sipped his liquor, evaluating Luke over the rim of the glass. It was so quiet, Luke could hear a clock ticking down in the foyer, could hear his heart pounding in his ears.
“I hate to tell you this,” Charles finally said, “but Penny is no longer keen to wed you. She believes you’re in love with Miss Carstairs, and—if you won’t agree to part with her—there would be another woman standing in the middle of her marriage. She’s not eager to live like that, and I can’t blame her.”
“No, I wouldn’t blame her.”
Charles continued. “I, on the other hand, am still delighted by the prospect of having you as my son-in-law. It’s my decision as to who her husband will be, and I deem you to be an excellent choice.”
“I’m so relieved. I couldn’t bear to discover I’d squandered your esteem.”
“It would take quite a bit more than a romance with a beautiful female to dampen my regard, and girls like Penny can be so silly. I don’t suppose I have to listen to her when she’s being a brat.”
“I’m mortified that I’ve caused this discord,” Luke said. “I realize how much you detest conflict.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I haven’t received an acceptable answer from you about Miss Carstairs. Where are you in terms of your relationship? Is it just beginning? Or have you been together for ages? If you’re contemplating matrimony, are you ready to split with her? Is that what’s happening? What are your plans?”
Luke chuckled miserably. “I have no idea.”
“You and I have had conversations in the past about the kinds of men we are, and you’re aware of my opinion about moral rectitude and avoiding scandal.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“I’m much older than you are, but I’m not dead. I vividly remember what it’s like to leap into an amour with a vixen as alluring as Libby Carstairs.”
“I only recently crossed paths with her, and I’m bowled over.”
“She was with you at Barrett,” Charles said.
“Yes.”
“I won’t pry for details, but I assume you tarried there—with her—for illicit purposes.”
Luke didn’t respond, but his cheeks heated to such a degree he was amazed he didn’t ignite. Charles’s assessment was forceful, and he couldn’t abide the scrutiny. It felt as if he’d failed a great ethical test, as if his fatal flaws had been exposed.
He was thirty years old, an earl and a decorated navy captain. He didn’t bow down to anyone, but—by consorting with Libby—he’d disappointed Charles in a significant manner that could never be repaired. He was embarrassed and ashamed.
He went over and poured himself a whiskey, then he strolled to the window and peered outside. It was cool and cloudy, and a wet pall hung over the park, painting the landscape in gloomy shades of gray that perfectly matched his dour mood.
Charles’s probing gaze cut into his back, and Luke yearned to spin around and demand the man stop judging him, but Luke was in the wrong and he recognized that he was. He was Charles’s guest, his presence requested so he could socialize with Penny in order to determine whether they should wed. But so far, he’d hardly focused on her. Instead, he’d been completely fixated on Libby.
“When I was young,” Charles said, “I lived a full and degenerate life in a very short interval.”
“I know.”
“My debacle entitles me to offer advice in this arena.”
“What arena?”
“The arena of lust and the bad consequences it can bring.”
Luke glanced over his shoulder. “Are you about to tell me I have to give Libby up? For if that’s your ploy, I must confess that she and I are barely acquainted. We’re at the beginning of something, but I can’t describe what it is.”
“I wouldn’t presume to scold you.”
“It feels as if you are.”
“Please don’t take it that way. I simply ask this: If you’re so eager to philander with her, are you sure you’re ready to marry?”
Luke shrugged. “I thought I was.”
“Then you met Miss Carstairs.”
“Yes.”
“With you being so besotted, you’re not in any condition to be a husband. You shouldn’t be pondering matrimony for a single second.”
“Should I go home and leave Penny alone? Is that your wish?”
“No! As I previously mentioned, I want you to join my family, but I don’t see how we could proceed if you intend to pursue your flirtation.”
“I understand.”
“And the type of passion that’s flaring with her? It’s not real, Luke. It doesn’t last, and when it burns out, you have just the ashes for company. I’m living proof of that.”
“Should I ignore what’s bubbled up? Should I walk away from her? Is that what you’re suggesting? If so, it definitely makes me wonder what it would be like to have you as my father-in-law. Would you constantly butt into my private business?”
“Penny is my daughter. I could never be silent as you shamed her by chasing after loose women.”
Luke felt duty-bound to defend Libby, even though he should have kept his mouth shut. “Libby isn’t loose. Yes, she’s an actress, but she doesn’t possess the low morals attributed to those doxies.”
Charles didn’t argue the point. Instead, he said, “You have to decide the best path for yourself, but it can’t be Penny and Miss Carstairs riding in the same boat with you. You don’t have a parent to guide you in your marital search, and I can provide counsel that might benefit you in your choices.”
Luke tucked away his fit of pique. “I’m being an ass, Charles. I apologize.”
“Apology accepted, but you aren’t being awful. I’m cognizant of what it’s like to be mad for Miss Carstairs. Your fascination doesn’t surprise me, but such ardent attachment ruins men like you and me. We’re not cut out for such all-consuming obsession.”
“Probably not, so what should I do? Shall I return to Barrett? If I depart, it will stir rumors as to why I vanished. I’d hate to put you in such an awkward position.”
“We have a whole week left of this accursed party.”
“Now, now,” Luke facetiously said, “don’t be grouchy about it. We’re meant to be having fun.”
Charles scoffed at that. “You have to spend a bit more time with Penny. Let’s get you back in her good graces.”
“Are you certain she’ll be amenable to socializing?”
“She’ll be amenable. If she’s not, I’ll set her straight at once.”
Luke sighed. “This is a disaster.”
“It’s not a disaster until I declare I don’t want you as my son-in-law. For the moment, we’re marching down the same road.”
“Fine.”
“But I’ll have to ask Miss Carstairs to leave. I’ll regret it, but I will. It wasn’t appropriate to have her as a guest. A Pendleton cousin invited her without apprising me, so I didn’t realize she was coming. We have too many impressionable young people here. If I’d been notified, I’d have quashed the idea.”
At hearing that Charles would ask Libby to go, Luke suffered a wave of panic. He couldn’t bear it! Yet what had he expected? With their affair being exposed, what other option was there?
“Must you kick her out?” Luke asked. “Isn’t that rather harsh?”
“I’m afraid so, and I doubt you’ll believe me, but I’m doing it for you. You need to separate yourself from her for a bit. When she’s close by, she’s the center of your attention. You can’t focus on what’s important.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”
“You’re assessing Penny with an eye toward marriage. I’d like you to ponder that notion and no other. You owe me that much, don’t you think? Miss Carstairs will only distract you.”
“I suppose that’s true too,” Luke glumly concurred.
“Mr. Falcon should go with her. He’s entirely too friendly with Penny, and he’s a bad influence.”
Luke wouldn’t be sorry to see the cheeky oaf disappear. “I wasn’t aware that he’d ingratiated himself to her. I’ve chatted with him quite extensively, and he’s not a boy who should be flirting with her.”
“I agree.”
“Would you like me to meet with Miss Carstairs for you?” Luke asked. “You’re so polite, and I can’t picture you ordering her to pack her bags. This is my fault, and I should take care of it for you.”
