by Jade Lee
"My lord," she said with a gasp, "what have you done?"
"Me?" he said, his expression far too wide and innocent. "Why, nothing."
"Have you told everyone I am an Original?"
He shrugged, but she saw the laughter in his eyes. "I only set out to win my wager with you."
"But..." Her voice trailed away as she looked around her. The men eyed her with speculation, interest, even a few with a naked hunger, no doubt for her dowry. She dismissed them without a second thought, glad for their interest, but not overcome by it.
Right now the women drew her attention. Those who did not pointedly ignore her sent her venomous glares. Try as she might, she could not find even one passably neutral look, much less a friendly expression.
"Sweet heaven," she murmured in shock, "they all hate me."
"Nonsense." Tallis beamed. "They are fascinated—"
"Not the men," she said, still searching for a friendly face. "The women."
He glanced around, as though only now noticing society's flowers. "Well, that is to be expected." He glanced back at her, his expression quizzical. "You know, most ladies would practically swoon with delight at such a wonderful happenstance."
Gillian snapped her fan shut in irritation. "I am not the swooning kind, my lord." But even as she clenched her teeth in anger, she wondered why she was so upset. What did it matter that she was surrounded by a roomful of Amandas all trying to tear her down? The men were interested, and they were the only ones she cared about.
Except that until this very moment, she had not realized how very lonely she was. In York, her best companions were the women—mothers, daughters, servants. Despite her illegitimacy, most of the women gave her grudging respect for her medicinal skills. A few had even become her companions, especially Mrs. Hobbs, the Wyndham housekeeper. Her enemies were always the men. And Amanda.
But now, thanks to Lord Tallis, she was surrounded by an entire roomful of jealous women, damned before she even opened her mouth.
"I have truly upset you." For the first time ever, she saw Lord Tallis's fashionable attitude slip, revealing a startlingly handsome and sincere man. "I thought you would appreciate—"
"You thought I would be just like every one of them." She cast a scathing glance around the room. "You thought I would happily elbow them aside on my way to becoming a diamond or some other such nonsense."
He did not answer, but it was clear from his expression he had thought exactly that.
"Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, my lord, but I find it distinctly unpleasant to have the entire female population against me even before I make my bow."
"But the gentlemen—"
"Will expect me to say witty things while they are eyeing the size of my dowry." She tried to repress a scowl, but her spirits were suddenly very low. She felt more like an outcast now than she had ever been in York.
Then someone lifted her hand in a gentle caress, jolting her out of her thoughts. She looked at Lord Tallis in surprise.
"I knew you were unique, Amanda," he said softly. "But I did not realize how very special you are."
She felt herself soften toward him. Indeed, how could she not with his gray eyes washed with apology? "What is done is done, my lord. And besides," she said with a sigh, "only a fool would look to the haut ton for a friend."
He glanced around, his sharp gaze no doubt absorbing more details and nuances than she could fathom. "I doubt I can undo my tampering, but let me at least promise you this, Miss Wyndham: I shall always stand your friend. If you need any help or merely a willing ear, I shall move heaven and earth to assist you."
She looked at him, startled by the earnestness of his offer. She had thought him a shallow fribble, but now she saw the depth of character he hid below his dandified exterior.
"Thank you, my lord," she whispered.
"It is my honor, my lady." He bowed over her hand, his manner exquisitely gracious. Then he raised his head and winked at her, and suddenly she was laughing.
"Oh, you are a complete hand, my lord. I only hope I can carry off the role you have given me."
"I would not worry, Amanda," drawled Stephen's low tones behind her. Gillian twisted around, her heart in her throat. "Trust me when I say you are most definitely an Original."
Gillian lifted her chin. Somehow, coming from him, it did not seem like much of a compliment.
"And remember, Miss Wyndham," added Lord Tallis, slipping easily back in his role as a world-weary cynic. "The ton sees what they want. They expect an Original in you, and they will see exactly that, even if you never open your sweet lips to say a word."
"Of course, but—"
"Mother is waiting, Amanda," interrupted Stephen. Though his words were for her, Stephen glared at her companion, his eyes hard and cold.
Beside her, Tallis gave her another deep bow. "It appears, Miss Wyndham, that I must release you to the throng. Do not forget my two dances."
"Of course ..." Gillian began, her gaze slipping between the two men. She could sense the growing hostility between them, but could not understand its source. "What—"
"It is time to move on, Amanda," Stephen practically growled in her ear as Lord Tallis pulled away.
"But—"
"Now." Then he turned her around and took firm steps toward the countess, who was, indeed, tapping her fan impatiently.
Gillian took a deep breath, ready to object to his high-handed treatment, when her gaze landed on the half dozen men loitering around the dowagers, looking as impatient as the countess. Her anger evaporated in surprise. "My goodness," she said, "why are they all standing there?"
"They wait to meet the latest Original." His tone indicated he was less than pleased at the thought.
"Surely you exaggerate." But one look at Stephen's grim face showed her he was in dead earnest. More than that, it told her he was not the least bit pleased with her success.
And for some perverse reason, that thought restored her good mood and her confidence. "Truly, my lord," she said airily, "there is not much to becoming a success, is there? After all those weeks of lessons and rules, all I truly needed was Lord Tallis." She flashed a smile at the gentleman in question. He was doing the pretty with an elderly matron, but the sally nevertheless had its effect.
Stephen's voice was harsh in her ear. "Tallis? Is he the silly ass who spread rumors about you?"
"He is the gentleman who graciously paved the way for my successful Season."
"Do not overestimate Tallis's abilities on your behalf," Stephen warned. "There are still a great many pitfalls ahead of you."
"Truly?" She glanced at the increasing group of young gentlemen hovering by the dowagers' seats. The countess was clearly torn between smirking at her success and glaring across the room at Gillian. "How many men do you think wait there for an introduction? Eight? No, it looks more like ten."
"Your manner is entirely too forward."
"Nonsense," she shot back with an arch look, purposely slowing their progress across the ballroom to a sedate crawl. "Have you not heard, my lord? Thanks to Tallis, I am an Original. Any oddities in my behavior merely enhance my image."
She stopped to flash a brilliant smile at a spotty-faced boy standing awkwardly nearby. Much to her satisfaction and Stephen's obvious consternation, the young man was so shocked he stumbled in his haste to get an introduction. Unfortunately, Stephen dragged her away before the young man found his footing.
"There is a limit to what society will tolerate, Amanda, even in an Original." The Arctic could not match the earl's freezing tone, but Gillian was not intimidated. She matched his frosty expression with her own arrogance.
"If this is to be another one of your lectures on proper behavior, my lord, I beg you to save time. Write it down, and I promise to add it to the list in the morning. In the meantime," she said, flashing him another beatific smile, "I believe your mother wishes me to meet some gentlemen." Then she crossed the last few feet to the countess and the dozen men already linin
g up for her attention.
Stephen watched her go with a growing sense of panic. She was furious with him. That in itself was nothing new, but her anger combined with her beauty to give her a fiery brand of regal disdain that was an irresistible call to men of all kinds. Already the puppies bowed almost to their knees as they were introduced, fawning around her, doting on her every word as they vied to gain her favor. Two scurried off to get her punch while others fought for the opportunity to hastily scribble their names on her dance card.
It was all his fault. Her behavior was out of fury because he'd taken advantage of her innocence, lured her into his bedroom, and made unseemly advances. Worse yet, he had no doubt that if his mother had not interrupted them, he would have taken her to his bed before she thought to protest.
He did not know how it happened. And, to his eternal shame, he could not even guarantee it would not happen again. Something affected his mind when she came near him.
He had learned in Spain to keep his passions tightly leashed. But with Amanda he became weak-willed and confused. He found himself alternately wanting to strangle her or bed her, and neither was allowed. He was her guardian, for heaven's sake, and yet when she flashed her dark green eyes at him and turned with that saucy flare of her skirts, he wanted nothing more than to catch her so close she would never dare leave him.
Stephen clenched his fists and tried to look appropriately genial toward the horde of men bowing over her hand. Good God, she became more beautiful with each passing second. She would certainly become the Original Tallis promised, damn his eyes. All too soon, Stephen would receive marriage offers for her from eager young bucks totally incapable of restraining her. They would no doubt give her free rein to take in dangerous strays and punch cutthroats without the slightest regard to her welfare or reputation.
And despite the fact that he was her guardian, he knew there was not a damn thing he could do to stop it. He knew she would marry wherever her heart led her, no matter what he said. In fact, if he ever dared refuse one of her suitors out of hand, she would probably plan a run to Gretna Green just to spite him.
With sudden resolve, Stephen turned his back on the woman who most filled his thoughts and scanned the ballroom for a substitute.
His hungry gaze landed on Sophia Rathburn, and finally the tension in his belly found an outlet. She was everything Amanda could not hope to be—refined and elegant with an aura of delicacy appropriate to a future countess. Where Amanda burned hot with emotion, Sophia was cool, a tempered soul of unmistakable gentility. She would never dream of climbing down a trellis barefoot in the middle of the night or of punching anyone, cutthroat or not. She certainly would not deign to be pandered to by fawning young bucks in such a vulgar way.
No, Sophia had the sensibilities of a lady.
He quickly made his way to her side, almost ruthlessly cutting through the crowd. And there he remained for the rest of the evening.
* * *
"Are you enjoying your first ball, Miss Wyndham?"
Gillian looked up from her seat at Lord Tallis with her first genuine smile in hours. Around her, she could hear the muted groans of more than a few gentlemen as they noted her sudden animation. "Yes, my lord. I have discovered there are distinct advantages to popularity." She beamed at the men around her.
"I am most gratified to hear it," he said as he leaned down, neatly trapping her hand to bestow a gentleman's kiss on her fingers. But when he glanced up, his eyes twinkled with devilment. "Do you know, Miss Wyndham, I have a sudden urge to attend a bearbaiting. Or perhaps a cockfight? Wonderful tourist spot, you know."
She raised her eyebrows in what she hoped was an imperious look. She knew he referred to their improper wager. His forfeit would be the tourist attraction of his choice, but for her to go to a bearbaiting would be a scandalous breach of etiquette. Of course, she would not admit such a silly thing as the fact that society's strictures stopped her from the honorable fulfillment of her wager.
Especially when she knew a much more potent weapon.
"Have I mentioned, my lord, that I like to take Tom along on all but my most proper excursions?" She strove for an abstracted air, but she did not miss the sudden widening of his lordship's eyes. "And Tom is such a scamp, there is no telling what he might do at a bearbaiting."
Actually, she could list quite a number of possibilities, including picking the bear's shackles or fleecing every pocket in the crowd. One glance at Lord Tallis's face told her the same thoughts occurred to him. He could not know the complete truth of Tom's background, but only a fool would underestimate the boy after their trip to the crypts.
Bowing slightly, he sent her an appreciative look. "Perhaps a visit to the Tower would be more suited to my tastes."
"Perhaps it would," she agreed with a grin.
Then she glanced out into the ballroom. "Have you come for your dance?"
"I have waited weeks for it. Nothing short of an untimely demise could keep me from your side."
"Then I shall pray you are by my side each and every evening." She held out her hand, allowing him to escort her onto the floor. While they stood, waiting for the music to begin, she caught sight of another couple just entering the dance floor—Stephen and Sophia.
He had been with that ice princess all evening, his attentions remarked by almost everyone. It was most irritating, especially when he seemed to notice Gillian only occasionally and then only to scowl. She had, of course, been too busy with her own gentlemen to bother with Stephen's actions. Still, she knew this was not his first dance with the chilling Lady Sophia.
Was this their second dance? Or their third? A second was unremarkable. Gillian herself intended to dance twice with Tallis. But if it were his third dance with the woman, why, that was tantamount to a proposal of marriage!
"Is something amiss?"
Her attention skittered abruptly back to Lord Tallis, and she felt herself flush with embarrassment. "I am terribly sorry; I was only thinking."
Tallis followed the line of her gaze to his sister and Stephen, who chose that moment to scowl back at them.
"Have you perhaps argued with Lord Mavenford?"
"Oh, la," she commented airily as the music began and she moved into the opening steps. "My stiff-necked guardian believes I am entirely too forward."
"I see," Tallis commented, bowing as his first steps began. "And have you been?"
Gillian bit her lip, startled by his perception. Thankfully, the dance separated them, hiding her reaction. But all too soon he returned to her side, his fathomless blue-gray eyes challenging her to answer his question. Had she truly been too forward?
"Yes," she finally admitted, "I suppose I acted a bit outre."
"It cannot be easy," he said softly, "to be the guardian of such a tempting young woman."
"My lord!" she said, blushing to the roots of her hair. His simple statement should not have unnerved her. His was only one of a hundred compliments tossed her way this evening. But it did unnerve her simply because she believed him.
It took another two turns of the dance before she regained her composure. Then he promptly destroyed it by whispering into her ear.
"Listen to what Stephen says, Amanda. He is no fool, for all his military stiffness. There are many dangers of which you are not aware."
Gillian lifted her gaze to his face, seeing not the gentle admiration of a handsome man, but the arrogant assumption that she required his advice. She had thought Lord Tallis different from Stephen, but here he stood, ordering her around as if she had no more brains than a peahen.
"Do you know, my lord, I am entirely too tired of men telling me to behave because of some unknown danger." She glanced over at Stephen as he smiled benevolently down at Lady Sophia. She would bet her last groat that he never warned Sophia of unknown dangers, but for some reason both Stephen and Tallis seemed to take a perverse joy in trying to correct Gillian's behavior.
Her companion must have seen the gathering storm on her face, because he r
apidly tried to backtrack. "Uh, Amanda—"
"In fact," she interrupted, "I believe these threats are merely constructions of the male mind, intended to keep women docile." She spun away from him, using the motion of the dance to turn her back on him. Then, when she returned for the final steps, she lifted her head and delivered her last parting shot. "You will find, Lord Tallis, I have a mind of my own. I am not easily frightened by nameless phantoms."
"I never said—"
"Oh, look, it is the viscount." She lifted her fan and waved at the young man to whom she had promised the next dance. As she expected, he rushed forward, ignoring social custom by joining her on the dance floor without the required trip back to the countess.
Lord Tallis stiffened, clearly aware of her maneuvering, and she held her breath, wondering if he would create a scene. In the end, he did not, relinquishing her in silence, though his dark gray eyes spoke volumes.
* * *
"A success! An unqualified success!"
Gillian could only grimace as the countess's loud tones continued to fill their carriage with her overflowing enthusiasm.
"Did you see Lady Marston? She practically ate her own liver with jealousy. And her with three indifferent daughters to launch."
Stephen nodded and murmured a noncommittal response.
"I must tell you, Amanda, I had some anxious moments. When you first arrived in London, never did I imagine you could manage at all, much less become an Original! We did marvelously, my dears, absolutely marvelously. But now we must make our plans. We have hundreds of decisions to make about the rest of the Season."
Gillian turned from her inspection of the dark London streets to stare at her silent guardian. "Does that mean I will not be banished to York?"
The countess gasped in shock. "Banished? Now? Whatever could you be thinking? You cannot possibly leave now. We must build on tonight. Stephen, tell her she is not leaving. Why, it would be utterly ruinous."
But Stephen did not answer. He merely shifted his gaze until it locked onto Gillian's.
She matched his stare, holding her chin high though her blood rushed painfully in her ears and her mouth went dry.
