by Jane Ashford
“But you declared you wanted to live in town, to have a great position, to…”
“Well, if I can find those things in someone I care for, I do. You should not take what I say when I am angry with you so seriously, Ian.”
“I see.” He was eyeing her as if he had never seen her before. “But what of Devere? How will he take a rebuff? Will he not seek some revenge? Perhaps even an abduction…”
“Oh, Ian!”
Alicia suppressed a smile. “I fear you have been reading too many romantic novels, Lord Cairnyllan. According to reports, Robert plans a sojourn in the country, quite alone. I daresay he wishes to avoid the gossip attendant on his failure.”
“Ah.”
There was a short silence. Alicia considered the brother and sister. “I have just been telling Lady Marianne how I approve of her decision, and her understanding in general. I think she has been very wise, don’t you?”
“Wise?” He looked at Marianne as if he had never before connected this word with her. “Why, yes, I suppose she has.”
“You ‘suppose’?” Marianne laughed. “Admit it, Ian, there is nothing whatever for you to criticize in this case. You cannot even deplore my hastiness!”
“Indeed, I congratulate you. You have done very well.”
Marianne blinked, clearly affected by the compliment, and her brother continued to gaze thoughtfully at her.
Only Alicia found suitable words. “You are more alike than you know,” she said slowly. And when they both turned to stare at her, she added, “How often has one of you done anything the other really disapproved?”
“Ian kept me in Scotland!” protested Marianne.
“Until you reached the terrific age of eighteen,” Alicia replied, smiling.
“Marianne is far too free in her manners,” said Ian.
“She encourages—”
“And yet she refused the greatest match in London.”
The two young MacClains gazed at one another.
“Marianne, have you seen my red sunshade with the ivory handle?” asked Lady Cairnyllan, coming into the drawing room pulling on her gloves. “I’ve looked everywhere and I can’t find it.”
“I believe you sent it to be repaired, Mama. The clasp was not holding, remember?”
“Why, to be sure, I did. I don’t know where my mind is these days.” But she smiled as if she had a fairly clear notion. “Lady Alicia, hello. I did not notice you at first.”
Alicia eyed Lady Cairnyllan with interest and some amusement. Her weeks in town had certainly altered the silent, retiring woman she had been at Perdon Abbey. Though self-absorbed, there was no sign of shyness about her. And her looks were greatly changed as well. She stood straighter, and her dark eyes sparkled in a face that looked ten years younger. She had refurbished her wardrobe—the cherry-colored morning dress she wore was the height of fashion—and had her brown hair cut and curled. No one would take her for the mother of these two tall redheads.
Cairnyllan was also watching her, but not with Alicia’s approval. “Something has happened, Mother. Marianne has received an offer of marriage.”
“Really, dear?” Lady Cairnyllan turned to her daughter, appearing mildly interested. “Do you think you wish to marry so soon?”
“I refused,” replied the girl, smiling.
“Oh, that’s all right then. You’re so young yet.” She finished working her fingers into her ivory kid gloves.
“It was Lord Devere, Mother,” said Ian in a sharper tone, as if he found her reaction incomprehensible.
“Devere?” Lady Cairnyllan looked from one to the other of them, smiling vaguely, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.
“I spoke to you about him,” said Cairnyllan.
“Umm? Oh, yes, that attractive thirtyish man. You wouldn’t have suited, Marianne.”
“I know, Mama.” Marianne was grinning by this time, and Alicia was having trouble with her own expression.
“I am going driving with Sir Thomas,” added Lady Cairnyllan. “I expect I shall be back for luncheon. Or perhaps not.” She smiled to herself. “You don’t need me, do you?”
Marianne shook her head. “I mean to go to Hookham’s to exchange my book, but I can take Annie with me.”
“You should not go out alone,” began Cairnyllan automatically.
“I shan’t. I shall take Annie.” Marianne’s blue eyes twinkled. “And Mama is going out alone.”
“No, dear,” replied her mother absently, “I am going with Sir Thomas. Is that a carriage?” She went to the window and looked down. “Yes. Good-bye, children. Lady Alicia.” Smiling still, she went out.
Cairnyllan stood very still, an arrested expression on his face, and Alicia could not resist saying, “Your mother seems to be enjoying London.”
“Oh yes,” answered Marianne. “In fact, I think she likes it better than either of us. Certainly better than Ian.” Both girls glanced at him, but he didn’t notice. He was obviously trying to assimilate a number of new ideas. Alicia and Marianne exchanged an amused look.
“Sir Thomas is very attentive,” said Alicia. She was enjoying herself. Ian MacClain was always so certain he was right; it was a pleasure to see him dumbfounded. Perhaps if he admitted his mistake in one case…but she turned from this thought. She didn’t really care what he believed.
“He is,” agreed Marianne, obviously feeling some of the same emotions as Alicia. “I believe he is sorry for what he did years ago.”
This made her brother raise his head. “Did? What are you talking about?” he snapped.
“Haven’t you heard the story? Roddy told me.” Marianne giggled. “He couldn’t resist, though he knew it was not quite the thing to gossip about my own mother.”
“What gossip?” Cairnyllan looked outraged, and disbelieving.
Her voice carefully expressionless, Marianne repeated the story of the long-ago romance, much as Alicia had heard it. Her brother’s response was abrupt. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard!”
“But why, Ian? Mama was a young girl once, too. And she naturally…”
“I forbid you to say any more about it,” he interrupted. And turning on his heel, he strode out of the room.
There was a short silence, then Marianne said, “Ian has always practically worshiped Mama. It comes from the way our father acted when he was small.”
Alicia nodded sympathetically. She too had seen the look of confusion in the earl’s eyes. It could not be easy to have your ideal image changed. She remembered suffering through certain similar occasions with her father, and they had been far less radical.
“I think London is proving a further education for all of us,” added the other girl. “It’s very strange.”
“You, at least, are profiting,” replied Alicia with a smile.
“Oh, I expected to; I’m not sure Ian or Mama is getting precisely what was anticipated.”
“I would be willing to wager they are not.”
The girls’ eyes met, and they both giggled.
“Are you really going to Hookham’s?” asked Alicia then. “I should be glad to go with you. They have a new novel I have been wanting.”
“Splendid.” Marianne jumped up. “I’ll get my hat.”
Twelve
Alicia was not surprised when Lord Cairnyllan sought her out as soon as he entered Mrs. Crestwood’s ballroom that evening. She had been certain he would have more to say on the subject of his mother’s past, and that, since she had been present when he learned the story, he would say it to her, among others. Coincidentally, a waltz was beginning, and he reached her just ahead of another young man, who looked disappointed. “Will you dance?” asked Cairnyllan.
Alicia didn’t think of refusing. She was far too curious about his state of mind. They moved onto the floor and swung into the waltz. The movement diver
ted both of them from Lady Cairnyllan. Though Cairnyllan had been thinking of little else for the past day, he was now conscious of nothing but the feeling of Alicia in his arms. The top of her head came just to his chin, he realized; she was not a dab of a woman, as so many were, and he needn’t feel a clumsy giant. She danced as if she had legs, and did not cling and hesitate in the way he detested. Her scent rose about them in a heady cloud. He was reminded of his earlier thoughts regarding Black Lady, and the nature of fillies, and a smile curved his lips. She was beautiful and spirited and obstinate, and with her so close, he could think of nothing but pulling her closer still, as he had done once.
His clasp tightened involuntarily. Feeling it, and seeing his smile, Alicia became even more aware of him. His palm was roughened; she could feel the calluses that came from hard riding and, presumably, work on his estate. She might have derided such a thing once, but it seemed somehow right for this man and not at all bumpkinish. The tightening of his arm had brought her eyes within three inches of his coat lapels, and the warm grip around her waist was pleasant. She ought to draw back, she knew; they were rather too near for propriety. But she didn’t want to. The conviction she had felt on first knowing him—that here was an equal and her natural partner—recurred, as did a flash of memory from Perdon Abbey. That day had been like nothing else in her life before or since. But the recollection inevitably evoked the scenes that had followed as well, and Alicia’s cheeks reddened slightly. She searched her mind for an innocuous remark, at the same time pulling a little away. “It is very hot, isn’t it?” she managed. “I don’t believe Mrs. Crestwood has opened even one window.”
“Perhaps she is not as fond of fresh air as we are.” His tone implied a host of meanings, and his blue eyes held hers for a moment.
Rightly interpreting this as a reference to their gallop, Alicia turned her head away. How dare he refer to it after the way he had treated her? But she found only the smallest spark of anger in her breast, and it was nearly stifled by a thrill of excitement Annoyed by her own susceptibility, she pressed her lips together. “Did your mother and sister accompany you tonight?” she asked.
Her diversion was successful. Cairnyllan frowned and looked around the ballroom. “Yes.” He saw Marianne dancing with an unexceptionable young man, and Lady Cairnyllan talking to some of the dowagers in the far corner. Relaxing a little, he added, “You should not take the gossip about my mother seriously, you know. Gossip is always exaggerated, and usually wrong.”
“I don’t know what you mean by ‘take seriously.’ I thought it a charming story.”
Cairnyllan’s frown deepened. “Your style of life has made you far too fond of scandal.”
“And yours has made you completely misunderstand the meaning of that word,” she retorted. “There is no ‘scandal’ in the story of your mother’s and Sir Thomas’s old romance. It is perfectly innocent. They were two young people who nearly married once; that is all.”
“My mother is not a hardened flirt!”
Alicia looked up at him in exasperation. He really was so obtuse. “No one imagines that she is, or was,” she replied. “I really cannot understand…”
“No, you cannot.” He hesitated, then slowly added, “My mother is…like a child, you see. The difficulties of her life—her disappointments and isolation—failed to crush her, but they drove her to a kind of naiveté. I had to do everything for the family. She has no understanding of the sort of thing you mean.” He sounded rather proud of this.
Alicia was unimpressed. “In the first place, it is not I who ‘means’ anything whatsoever. I didn’t begin the gossip, and I have not repeated it. But I wonder whether it was good for your family for you to do ‘everything’?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your mother and sister may have wished to do some things for themselves.” She smiled slightly. “I know Marianne did, and it might have done your mother good to take charge.”
“This is none of your affair,” he answered coldly, his face closed.
“No. And it is quite off the subject as well. I was merely trying to point out to you that the story of Lady Cairnyllan and Sir Thomas was touching and innocent.”
He did not look at her. “I wonder if you would feel the same if it were your mother?”
Alicia considered. It was a bit difficult to picture her lost mother, but she felt no distaste. As a further test, she imagined her father in the same position, then shook her head. Lord Cairnyllan was simply mistaken. Even when she thought of her father engaged in any number of desperate flirtations now—and as a handsome and eligible man of sixty, he might well be—she felt nothing more than amused condescension. Had he lived in London, of course, or been like the previous Lord Cairnyllan…this thought brought her up short, and she felt a flood of sympathy for her partner. It was no wonder he had distorted ideas about these things, having endured such a father. But it was time he saw the truth, before he hurt both his mother and himself. “Yes,” she said positively, “I should feel just the same. I am certain my mother had suitors before my father appeared, and I’m sure he courted other girls as well. You see it happening all around us.” She indicated the other dancers.
“This was rather more serious, and…Mother is not that sort of person.” He eyed a laughing debutante with distaste.
“Is it because she was, in a manner of speaking, jilted?” said Alicia. “It is not—”
“Nothing of the sort! I do not care to discuss this subject any further.” His face was set.
“But I was only—”
“It is hardly a proper topic for us in any case. Who is that young man dancing with Marianne?” Resolutely, he thrust the thought of his mother’s romance away. It was wholly at odds with his image of her as a cloistered and martyred ideal to be protected and shielded by his care. That recent events had called that image into question, he refused to consider just now.
Alicia sighed and gave it up. There was no reasoning with the man. “That is Denniston. He is the son of the Duke of Selbridge. Very charming.”
“Marianne seems quite taken with him.” He frowned. “Why must she throw back her head and laugh so loudly? If she would only curb her natural enthusiasm a little…”
“Yes, she seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself. What a pity.” Alicia’s sarcasm was unmistakable.
“You think little of my morality, I know,” responded Cairnyllan. “What you do not understand is that I am wholly responsible for—”
“Nonsense!” He stared at her. “You have convinced yourself that no one but you can look after your family, and that no one but you knows how they should go on. But your sister is an astonishingly sensible girl, who can judge for herself in almost any situation. Look at the way she handled Devere. And your mother seems well able to think for herself as well. Perhaps they are both weary of your ‘morality.’”
For an instant, he looked stricken. Since his earliest youth, he had thought of little but his family, and how to support their spirits and position. Along with caring for the estate, this task had been his life. And now this fashionable Londoner was suggesting that he had been mistaken, or that his duties were over. “You are very ready to offer advice on matters that are none of your affair,” he answered.
Alicia started to reply, then hesitated and smiled slightly. “I have often been told so,” she agreed.
Her capitulation surprised him. “I know that Marianne is growing up,” he temporized. “And soon she will marry. I shall be happy to see her settled with a suitable husband.”
“Of your choosing?” Alicia was still smiling.
“Well, I should hope that I…that is, if she should consult…” He grimaced. “Damn you, no! I am not a petty tyrant. If Marianne will avoid choosing some entirely unacceptable…”
“As she recently did,” put in Alicia.
“As she did,” he agreed savagely. “Then, of cour
se, I will be happy to welcome the man she does settle on.”
“How generous!” Alicia grinned. “And since she has demonstrated her good sense, no doubt you mean to leave her to discover this paragon for herself.”
Cairnyllan glared at her, then very slowly began to smile. “I suppose so.”
“It will be terribly difficult for you.” Alicia was solicitous.
“You know, I begin to see why your father spends most of his time abroad,” he responded. “I daresay he prefers continual foreign travel to trying to deal with you!”
“Oh yes.”
He stared at her.
“Well, we are both strong-minded individuals, with decided opinions, and, though we love each other very much, we cannot seem to agree. So it is best we remain apart most of the time.” She paused. “Not that I deny him the whole of England, of course. He enjoys traveling. When the war was on in Europe, he toured India for nearly a year. So you see, it is not all my fault.”
Cairnyllan shook his head. “You are an amazing creature.”
“You are not precisely commonplace yourself, Lord Cairnyllan.”
Their eyes met, and they both smiled. “Do you think we might finish out our dance without arguing?” he wondered.
“Unlikely. But we might try.”
“Good.”
Silence fell. Alicia tried to think of some indisputable topic, and failed. She looked up to find the same perplexity in her partner’s face. “It is hot, isn’t it?” she asked teasingly.
He burst out laughing.
She smiled. “I don’t believe I have ever seen you laugh so spontaneously. And I know I have never made you laugh. You are a very serious person, aren’t you?”
“I?” He seemed surprised. “I am conscious of my duties, naturally, but…”
“And do you ever take time to think of pleasures, rather than duties?” As soon as she had spoken, Alicia wished the words recalled. She had been genuinely curious and had not meant the query as it sounded.
Cairnyllan grinned, but he seemed to read her reaction in her face. “I have had little time for such in my life,” he responded. “Yet I believe I enjoy a joke or a bruising ride or a meeting with friends as much as anyone.”
