Then he noticed the glint of nostalgia in her eye.
‘What did you do to the poor fellow?’
‘No more than he deserved.’ The glimmer had become a twinkle of amusement.
‘Let me be the judge of that. What did you do to him?’
‘Would it not be better to ask what he did to me?’ she said, now smiling with evil glee.
‘Probably not. I did nothing at all to you at Almack’s. We had not even been introduced. Your assault on me was unprovoked.’
The look in response to that was pointed and the fleck in her eye no longer seemed to dance. It glowed amber with accusation. ‘You did nothing? Think again, sir.’
Had he done something to upset her? She seemed to think so. But what could it have been? He could not remember even hearing her name before the moment she dumped her lemonade on him. ‘We were not speaking of me,’ he said cautiously. ‘But if you insist on it, I will ask the question in a way that is most likely to get me an answer. What did Haines do to you that caused you to respond in a way that left him so wary of you?’
She nodded in approval, as though he were a particularly smart pupil and she the tutor. ‘I made my come out two years ago and he was one of the more promising suitors.’
‘You had more than one?’ It was rude of him to doubt the fact. Had he not just acclaimed her exceptionally pretty?
She responded with the sort of coy pout he’d have expected on any of the playful misses flirting by the pavilion. ‘More than two, as well. I will make you a list, if you wish. It will save us both the trouble of you making introductions to people I already know all too well.’
‘That will not be necessary,’ he said, suddenly afraid to ask how many men had tried and failed to win her.
‘But as I said, at one time, Mr Haines was a favourite.’
‘Of yours?’
‘Simply a favourite. But on an evening much like this, he lured me to the dark walks and attempted to take liberties.’
‘He tried to kiss you.’ This was quite at odds with the awkward spinster he had been imagining.
She gave him a disappointed look. ‘You tried to kiss me, Mr Lovell. Mr Haines tried to take liberties,’ she repeated in a flat tone that made it quite clear she set her bounds of personal propriety well past a simple peck upon the cheek.
He was not sure if he was horrified or impressed. ‘And I assume you were discovered. Was there was a scandal?’
She laughed. ‘No on both counts. You should know that after our rendezvous at the Middletons’ I have no intention of being forced by scandal to marry a man I do not respect.’
He was not sure which stung worse, her glib dismissal of their last meeting or the slight on his character. Did the woman have no heart at all? Then he remembered that it did not matter if she cared for him. She was not the woman he wanted.
She snapped her fingers in his face. ‘Really, Mr Lovell, contain yourself. You are gaping at me like a beached cod.’
He gave a brief shake of his head to regain his senses. ‘I apologise, Miss Summoner. I was shocked because I thought, for a moment, I was speaking with a normal young lady. Do go on.’
There was a brief flash of those exceptional eyes to tell him that his answering shot had struck home. Then she continued. ‘As I was saying, I had no desire to marry Mr Haines and he had no desire to explain to all of London that the bruise he received did not come from Gentleman Jackson.’ She laid a finger on her cheek beside her nose.
‘You blacked his eye?’ His shock changed to awe. ‘I should consider myself lucky to have escaped from the cupboard unscathed.’
‘You only kissed my hand,’ she said.
But what a kiss it had been...
‘And a simple no did not dissuade Mr Haines,’ she continued. ‘He was most ardent. Should he claim to you that I broke his heart, it is an exaggeration. His feelings were no more engaged than mine were.’
At this, he hardly knew what to think. ‘Were you in the habit of trifling with men’s affections, Miss Summoner?’
She gave another flutter of her fan. ‘Some mutual trifling might have occurred. I was poorly chaperoned and had no mother to warn me against flirting. Since my father left me to the care of servants when Mother passed, it was most foolish of him to think he could reappear when I was old enough to marry and put strictures on my behaviour.’ While he saw no bitterness in her when she spoke of her sister, her feelings for her father were far more readable. At the mention of him, her lips thinned, her jaw tightened and the spark in her eye went so dark as to almost disappear.
‘He was fortunate that you did not ruin yourself to spite him,’ Ben said.
‘Perhaps so. But that was long ago, Mr Lovell, and no real harm was done.’ Mischief returned to the eyes peering at him from over her fan. ‘Now, I am older and wiser and have charged myself to be sure no one takes similar advantage of my sister.’
Was it meant as a warning? It certainly seemed so. ‘Once again, I assure you, Miss Summoner, that my intentions in that direction are nothing but honourable.’
‘Honourable?’ She lowered her fan to show there would be no dissembling between them. ‘At Almack’s, I heard you give high praise to my father and hardly a word for my sister. You had decided, since she was the prize of the Season, she would increase your stature. If that is all you care for, then you are not worthy of her.’
And that explained the lemonade. ‘You should not have eavesdropped,’ he said, though it was far too late to scold her on it.
‘And you should not have said things you didn’t want heard.’ The fan returned and there was another flutter. ‘It does not speak well of your judgement, Mr Lovell. Nor does it make you a suitable husband for Belle.’
Amy’s opinion of him had been ruined before he’d even gained an introduction. But that did not mean his plans were hopeless. ‘You should let Miss Arabella be the judge of her own heart.’
‘Or my father?’ The fluttering stopped again. ‘Because my father is the person you really wish to please, is it not, Mr Lovell? Since he left the raising of Belle to me, it should not surprise you that I claim the right to approve her husband. I have been both mother and sister to her for the whole of her life.’
He had been wrong about her from their first meeting, flattering himself that she pined for him or assuming that she needed help to correct her character and find a husband. She was totally in control of her heart and her future and had set both aside for the sake of her sister. And from the first moment they’d met, his behaviour had been a textbook example of what not to do to gain her approval.
He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. ‘I have no choice but to apologise again for my behaviour. You are correct. It was reprehensible. I should not have spoken of my plans regarding a lady, especially not in a public place. But I hold firm in my belief that I would make a fine husband for your sister, despite what you might think of me. No man is perfect, Miss Summoner.’
She lowered her fan and studied him carefully, as if trying to decide whether to change her opinion. Then she shook her head. ‘I am not seeking a perfect man for Belle, Mr Lovell. I am seeking one with the correct set of flaws.’
The conversation grew more curious the longer it continued. ‘Tell me what you seek that I may mould myself into that man.’
Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Your character sounds exceedingly malleable.’
And once again, he was nagged by the desire for confession that sometimes took hold of him as he looked into her eyes. Did she really deserve to know just how changeable he was? He shook off the urge. ‘Any man’s character must be changeable for the better. But my heart remains constant.’
‘Oh, I believe that, Mr Lovell. Your heart, if you have one at all, remains fixed on your own needs and desires. Since you have barely met Arabella, do not try to
convince me that it is set on her.’
His needs and desires were synonymous with Arabella, since she was a means to an end. Put thus, even he could see how cold it was and how unworthy it would be in the protean eyes of the woman in front of him. Perhaps it was the straightest path to gain the power and admiration he wanted. But was it the right way?
Easiest was not always best. He knew from experience that what seemed pleasant often came with a price. It was one thing if he suffered. But suppose Amelia was right and her sister’s future would be better with someone else in it? At the very least, the situation deserved more thought than he had given it.
‘Miss Summoner! Miss Summoner!’ The stout older woman who had been with the girls in Bond Street was hurrying down the path towards them, a look of panic on her reddened features.
‘Miss Watson?’ Amelia turned to her, instantly alert.
‘Miss Belle is missing.’
Chapter Ten
Belle was lost.
Amy struggled to take her next breath. It felt as if she’d been holding it for a lifetime. But that could not be. Everything had been normal, only a few seconds ago. Then, suddenly, her lungs had turned to iron and her throat had become a narrow glass tube that would shatter at the first gulp of air.
It had been her job to care for her sister. Her only, her most important job. And just as she had known some day she would, she had failed. Had Belle wandered away? Had someone taken her by force? Or had she been coerced?
It would take little more than a smile and the promise of a dance to lure her away from her chaperon. On a starry night, in a pleasure garden full of secret grottos and dark paths, anything might happen to her. Amy knew from experience that not all men who claimed to be were gentlemen and protected herself accordingly. But Belle was as innocent as a babe.
And Amy had wasted the evening sparring with Benjamin Lovell. It was a mere pretence that talking to the man had been about protecting her sister and not the pleasure she felt in a battle of wits. If she had truly been thinking of Belle, she’d have been at her sister’s side and not indulging in distractions. Then she would not have disappeared.
What was she to do now? Miss Watson was frantic and she herself could barely manage to speak, much less to act. She turned to scan the crowd, eyes darting so fast between faces that she could not tell one from another. So many people and so many places to look. What was she to do?
‘We must find her. Before...’
A hundred possibilities flashed through her mind, each more awful than the last. Before she could stop herself, a whimper of desperation escaped her lips.
‘Really, Miss Summoner. We are in Vauxhall Gardens, not Whitechapel. A few moments’ absence is not the end of the world.’
‘But Belle is my responsibility,’ she whispered. ‘If anything happens to her...’
Mr Lovell held up a hand. ‘Say no more.’ He turned to the chaperon, his voice calm but commanding. ‘Where was she when last you saw her?’
‘By the trained dogs.’
‘And where have you been so far this evening? Was there any spot she was loathe to leave that she might have returned to alone?’
‘She likes dancing,’ Amy managed at last.
‘Then, Miss...’ Mr Lovell gave a pointed look to the chaperon.
‘Watson,’ Amy supplied.
‘Then, Miss Watson, please return to the pavilion to check the dancers. If you do not find her there, proceed systematically towards the east. We will search west and enlist any friends we find along the way to help us. We will find her in no time, I am sure.’
His voice was like a soothing balm on Amy’s nerves. On some level, she had always enjoyed the rumbling bass sound of it, as he had argued with her over every small thing. But now it was even and calm. With each word it loosened the grip of the panic that had taken her.
He reached out to take her arm. ‘Come, Miss Summoner. Do not distress yourself. Let us locate your sister and set your mind at rest.’
For a moment, she hesitated. If she accepted his help and they found Belle in some unfortunate or compromising situation, would he use it to his advantage?
He sensed her misgivings and answered the question she hadn’t asked. ‘Let us worry over our previous conversation at a later time. For now, we must locate Miss Arabella. It is probably nothing, you know. In any case, I am the soul of discretion and you are in need of a friend.’
‘Thank you.’ She felt the last of her fear dissipate, replaced by confusion. She had always longed for a friend to share some of the burden of caring for Belle. But she’d never have thought such aid would come from Benjamin Lovell. Now he was leading her deeper into the park, stopping at each attraction to search the people assembled there.
‘How old were you?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ He was looking ahead of them into the crowd and his question had seemed to come from nowhere.
‘How old were you when your mother died?’
‘Five,’ she said, equally distant. She had been so small. But Belle had been even smaller. From the first moment she’d seen her, Amy had known that the tiny baby with the blue-tinged skin was in need of protection.
‘Ten,’ he muttered in response.
She tightened her hand on his arm, waiting for explanation.
‘I was ten when my father died. Old enough to remember what it was like before I was forced to become man of the house.’
‘I am sorry,’ she said, in response to the familiar pain of loss she recognised in the words.
‘But you were not much more than a babe yourself. Where was your father in all this?’
‘At first, he was lost in grief for our mother. But when Parliament was in session he had the business of governance. We were too young to come to London for the Season. We were left in the country.’
‘And you took it upon yourself to be sure that things ran properly while he was gone,’ he finished. ‘You cried yourself to sleep at night, didn’t you? And woke each morning afraid to leave your bed, lest this be the day you failed in your mission and everything fell apart.’
‘How did you know?’ she whispered.
He answered with the sad smile of someone who had spoken from experience. ‘I slept better after I went to live at Cottsmoor. In time, there were new things to disturb my dreams. But when I was removed from their cause, the old fears subsided.’
‘Are you are suggesting that I let her go?’ Amy said slowly. ‘I do not know how.’ Though she wanted to resist, the idea of gaining her own freedom was more seductive than any man had been.
‘When she marries, you will have to,’ he said.
But that had not been the plan. She was not going to abandon her sister. She just needed someone to share the duties. If there was a man she could talk honestly to, who understood Belle’s difficulties and was clearheaded in crises, her life would be much easier. After talking to him tonight, it seemed that Benjamin Lovell might be just the husband she had been looking for.
The husband for Belle, she reminded herself. For a moment, she had lost sight of the goal altogether. Mr Lovell wanted to marry Belle and had just won her approval. But now that she had remembered it, why did the future feel so empty? Had she grown so used to defining her existence around the care of her sister that she could not imagine how to live life for herself?
Or was it because she took personal pleasure in leaning on Ben Lovell’s arm as they searched the park? She did not wish to marry him or anyone else. He was not the first man who had flirted with her. Whispers in darkened cupboards meant nothing to either of them. And though admirable, his help and concern tonight was no more than she’d have expected from any honourable gentleman.
But in her heart, she wanted it to be more. It was likely proof that she was becoming the frustrated spinster he’d accused her of bein
g. None of this mattered if Belle was lost. She must not be wasting energy speculating when there were more pressing matters to attend to. She scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face. ‘We have been to the acrobats, the supper rooms and down the colonnade, but no one has seen her. Where could she have gone?’
‘I think it is time that we look in the areas that are not so well lighted,’ he said, in an offhand manner.
It was exactly the place she most feared to find her sister. With their dim, winding pathways, the dark walks of Vauxhall were a notorious meeting place for young lovers. More than one gentleman had suggested the place to her during her first year out. Some had even succeeded in taking her there. But even then she had been far more worldly than Belle and knew when to call a halt to straying hands and lips.
She swallowed her dread. ‘Let us go, then. Quickly.’
He patted the hand in the crook of his arm. ‘Are you not afraid of what people will say, should they see us there together?’
‘They will probably assume you are taking your life in your hands,’ she snapped. ‘But I do not care what they think, as long as they do not suspect the truth.’
Despite the seriousness of the situation, he chuckled. ‘Take heart, Amelia. If you have the presence of mind to be sarcastic, things cannot be too dire.’ Then he led her forward, out of the light.
It was just as she remembered it. The hundreds of lanterns that hung in the trees over the rest of the park became a distant glow that disappeared once they passed the first curve in the path. The only light remaining was the glimmer of moonlight filtered through the trees above them. They paused for a moment so that their eyes could adjust to the darkness. But now he was the one who hesitated and she was the one to tug his arm to lead him forward.
‘A moment, please,’ he said, still rooted to the spot, ‘while I decide how best to go on.’
She snorted. ‘You act as if you have never been here before.’
There was a profound silence from the man at her side.
The Wedding Game Page 8
