by Lauren Smith
As she tried to pull her hand away, he caught it, kissing the inside of her palm. He glanced up at her, his hazel eyes dark and warm. “I have you to thank. If not for you I might still be out in the meadow. Who knows what might have happened?”
Horatia shuddered at the sudden sense of dread she felt overtake her. Unable to control herself, she threw her arms about his chest and buried her face in the crook of his neck, trembling. She wondered how she could hurt so much over losing him when he’d never belonged to her. It seemed that loving someone that was never hers made her fear losing him all the greater. Losing Lucien to death would have been worse that losing him to another woman.
His arms settled around her body, pulling her closer, keeping her against him when he should have been pushing her away. When she’d mastered herself again, she bravely raised her head, her nose brushing his cheek. His arms around her chest tightened, and his breath hitched.
“You should thank God I’m weak as a newborn kitten, my dear. Otherwise I’d be thanking you properly for saving my life, and that blasted door would be bolted shut,” Lucien murmured as he placed a soft, lingering kiss on her jaw.
Horatia’s blood heated at the images his words created. An all too familiar ache started within her. She tore herself away when his hands moved to her breasts.
“No,” was all she said. She cleared her throat and wiped the remains of tears from her eyes, then smoothed her skirts and left for the open door. She paused in the hallway and turned back to him.
“I wish you a speedy recovery, my lord.” She dipped into a curtsy, something she’d never done to him before and left. The absence of his arms around her already made her hurt with longing, but she dared not linger.
Chapter Nineteen
Dinner at Rochester Hall was always a grand affair, which was just the way Jane liked it. There was something wonderful about having her children and friends gathered around her table, eating, drinking and talking. The table in the formal dining room sat thirty people when all the leaves were inserted, but tonight it was perfect for accommodating the more intimate party of thirteen.
The doctor had come and gone, assuring Jane her son was well enough to dine with them if he wished and that he’d only suffered a minor concussion. With instructions to rest for the next few days, he’d exhibited the stubbornness he’d inherited from his father and come down for dinner. Jane snuck a glance at him, still concerned about the pallor of his complexion.
She had arranged the seating so that the younger children were all paired together. Cedric and Horatia sat across from each other by the head of the table on either side of Lucien. Lucinda and Linus were next, and on down the line were Avery, Lawrence, Audrey, Gregory, Lysandra and finally John, Marie and herself.
She’d noticed a great many things throughout the evening and wasn’t sure whether she ought to worry about how the close quarters of the three families over the holidays would affect everyone. Linus kept sneaking glances at Lucinda across the table. For her part, Lucinda politely attempted to include him in her conversation with Cedric, but Linus would only spit out a quick reply and look away, anything to make it look as though he had no real interest in the girl.
Jane wasn’t fooled, but she was worried. Although he was one and twenty, Linus was still young enough to act rashly. His interest in Lucinda Cavendish, if acted upon, could force both of them to the altar, and for Linus she feared that would be too soon. As much as she desired at least one of her brood to marry, he was not ready, and no one desired a marriage due to scandal. He was still immature, and it would drive his wife positively mad if he married now.
It wasn’t surprising to see Linus intrigued by a woman. He was a Russell after all, and had her passionate blood in him. However, the most interesting development of the evening was Lysandra. Jane’s only daughter had always seemed like a miraculous anomaly after so many troublesome boys, yet Lysandra managed to be just as vexing as her siblings. The girl had no interest in fashion and spent far too much time in the library. Not that books weren’t a healthy pursuit for a woman. It was important to be intelligent. She saw it as a woman’s duty to be smarter than most men, but a woman could not marry books, nor could books give Jane the grandchildren she longed for.
There was nothing so important at a particular point in a person’s life than seeing their children grow, marry and bear their own children. Grandchildren were a special treat, and Jane was envious of her friends who had them. She longed to hold a sleeping baby in her arms once again, and breathe in the clean sweet scent of its skin and whisper sweet lullabies. She would see all of her children married and producing children if it was the last thing on earth she ever accomplished.
As dinner progressed, Jane saw something new in her daughter. There was a flush in her cheeks, a brightness to her eyes and a startled look as though Lysandra had woken from a dream of pale pastels to see the world in its true vibrancy at last. Only the desire of the heart could form that new sight. And the way Gregory Cavendish threw back his wine with reckless abandon told Jane everything she needed to know. Lysandra was officially a Russell if she was wreaking such havoc on the dashing young man with mere glances. He would be an excellent match for her daughter.
Jane resisted the urge to preen at the knowledge that she and her friend Marie would soon be family after their children had married. It was only a matter of time.
However, whatever had happened between the pair—and something had, she sensed—it had not gone as planned. One could never take back a kiss that was given, or perhaps stolen as the case might be. Jane only prayed that her daughter’s hot-blooded actions had not been too bold. It would be most unacceptable to have to marry her daughter for reasons that would be obvious in a few months time. For her sons to marry under such circumstances was almost expected of them. Not one of them had even a smidgeon of self-control, but Lysandra ought to be stronger. She was a woman after all.
As an array of desserts was brought out, Jane turned her attention to Lucien and Horatia. They were speaking amongst themselves and Jane hated that she couldn’t hear a single word.
It was so obvious that Horatia loved him. What would it take for Lucien to realize the same? No other woman could hold such a depth of emotion, nor handle his tempers the way Horatia did. The woman ought to be awarded sainthood for her bravery in loving such a man.
I must not interfere…well, not too much.
Tonight there would be dancing and playing on the pianoforte, and Jane would rally allies for her mission of pushing Horatia into Lucien’s arms.
Once dinner had ended, she stood and addressed her guests.
“I thought we might all move to the ballroom for the remainder of the evening and have a bit of music and dancing.” This suggestion was met with approval and the group moved together towards the ballroom. Jane intercepted her three younger sons, trapping them in the dining room alone with her once the others had gone.
“Mama, what are you on about?” Linus asked, forgetting that she still owed him a tongue lashing for his mischief earlier that day.
“Sit down, all of you.” She’d spent twenty years perfecting that tone of voice and Avery, Lawrence and Linus all but dove for the nearest chairs. Once seated she began to pace back and forth, knowing full well she was behaving like a commander of His Majesty’s armed forces.
“I have decided that tonight you three must seduce Horatia,” she announced.
Avery blanched, Lawrence frowned, and Linus, who’d been balancing on the back two legs of his chair, fell over with a crash.
“What?” Lawrence started to rise.
“Did I say you could stand?”
Lawrence promptly dropped back down.
“Have you gone mad, Mother?” Linus asked, righting his chair and sitting back down. “Shall I send for Dr. Lambert in Hexby?”
“Good heavens, no.” She laughed. “I am sane as ever and plan t
o be here as long as I must to see that all of my children are happily married so you might as well get accustomed to my presence.”
“Is that what this is about?” Lawrence crossed his arms in such a way that he suddenly reminded her of her late husband. He was the gentlest man there ever was, but he could certainly appear as cross as the devil himself when he wanted, a trait Lawrence had inherited. “You wish for one of us to marry so you’ve gone and selected Horatia in the hope that one of us will like her?” The disapproval in his tone was as clear as cannon fire.
“Don’t be foolish. She’s in love with Lucien.”
“Then why have us seduce her?” Linus asked. “It seems to me you should have cornered your firstborn for this.” He leaned back in his chair, forgetting his accident not one minute ago, a placating grin stretching his lips as though he were humoring a small child. Jane was on the verge of exasperation. Had none of them inherited her wits or cunning?
“I swear, by the way you three act, I might have dropped you on your heads when you were babes. If Lucien sees you all vying for Horatia’s attentions, he will become jealous and act on his feelings for her. He needs encouragement and sibling rivalry in this house has never been in short supply. I believe it is time we put such energies to good use.”
“Clever,” said Avery, who had been quiet so far in all this.
Linus huffed. “Who says Lucien has feelings for her? I thought after Miss Burns and the gazebo disaster he did not favor her at all.” His irritable tone was probably the result of guilt since he had caused the aptly named disaster.
“Miss Burns left that day because of something I said to her, Linus. I have only recently informed Lucien of the truth. He has changed his opinion of Horatia for the better, I believe.”
“A change of opinion does not herald wedding bells, Mother,” Lawrence said.
“He cares for her, and he desires her,” Jane insisted. Lawrence and Linus grumbled in disbelief.
Avery sat up in his chair. “Actually, I believe mother may be right in this. I am more than ready to believe Lucien feels something for Horatia.”
His brothers whipped their heads in his direction.
“And how do you know that?” Lawrence asked.
Avery grinned. “Remember that night you met Lucien at the Midnight Garden, Lawrence?”
Jane let out a horrified gasp but Avery ignored her.
“How the devil do you know where I was?” Lawrence asked.
Avery continued to smile. “Do you recall the woman in the silver gown and mask Lucien was so interested in?”
“Of course,” Lawrence answered. “She was quite beautiful. There was a charming naiveté about her that—oh God.”
Avery’s smile deepened. “Yes, that woman was Horatia. She paid Madame Chanson to send her to Lucien that evening.”
Jane gave a little cry and half-fainted into a chair. She peeped up at her son from beneath her lashes. None of them were paying attention to her. Instead they were more interested in Avery’s source of information. Did they not even realize what their wild, reckless behavior was doing to her nerves? Well, if they were going to act like devils, then by God, she’d make them use their devilish talents to suit her ends.
Lawrence felt ready to toss his accounts. He remembered every detail of that night and his jealousy when Lucien had offered to let the woman, Horatia, choose him over his brother. Lawrence had all but shoved his own woman off his lap, in the hopes of taking Lucien’s prize. A woman he’d never once thought of romantically. It was hard to accept.
“Are you telling me that the woman I practically begged to steal from my brother that night, the one he shamelessly seduced in front of me was…”
“Indeed,” Avery said. “But I must return us to the point of this revelation. Lucien knew it was her the entire night. He was very clear in declaring his desire for her and she for him.”
His mother had roused herself to sit up from her theatrical swoon and was once more engaged in the conversation. “Did he…did they… Horatia told me they hadn’t…”
“No, not at all,” Avery reassured her. “Well, not fully.” He then made twiddling motions with his fingers.
Linus got up and held out his arms, expecting their mother to faint for real this time.
His mother screeched. “Dear Lord, I’ve raised a pack of libertines and hedonists! Indulging in passion is one thing, but this?”
Lawrence ignored his mother’s exclamations regarding the damnation of her sons’ souls and focused instead on his younger brother.
“Avery, how did you come by this knowledge? You weren’t at the Garden that night.”
“I have my sources,” Avery replied cryptically. It wasn’t even the first time he’d made that comment to them.
“You and your bloody sources. One of these days you will get yourself into trouble,” Lawrence warned him. “The war is over. Don’t you think your line of work ought to end too?”
“Wars never end,” said Avery. “Only the battlefields and objectives change.”
Avery’s missions to the continent were a well-kept family secret, highlighted by the fact that they knew so little of it. It was dangerous work, and he didn’t want Avery bringing danger and trouble to the family’s front door.
“Lucien and Horatia must marry,” his mother said. “At this point my conscience won’t allow otherwise. ‘Not fully’ indeed…”
Lawrence pondered this. “Do you really suppose he’ll want her more simply because of jealousy?” They were not boys anymore, no longer fighting over toy soldiers in the gardens. Women were a serious business.
“Knowing the three of you, if you do your best to tempt her to passion, he will notice and respond.”
“Not with bullets I hope,” Avery mused. “To be called out by my own brother…that would be highly embarrassing.”
“Don’t worry, Avery,” Linus sniggered. “I shall attend your funeral. It will be a lovely service. I’ll have the headstone read, ‘Here lies Avery Russell—Stealer of Hearts and Secrets.’ I’m sure you’ll have at least a few people who will mourn your loss.”
“Hush, pup!” Avery snapped.
Lawrence stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. “I’d be more concerned about Cedric.” There would be no avoiding him. Lawrence knew how protective the man was of his sisters. “He’ll be bound to see our amorous overtures to his sister. Imagine his reaction.”
“Leave him to me,” his mother said.
Lawrence supposed she would enlist Audrey’s help to keep Cedric distracted. God save them all if it didn’t work.
Jane waited until she had her sons’ full attention once again and gestured for Avery to speak.
“Now, let’s get down to specifics, Mother. What do you expect us to do that will make him jealous?” Avery looked up at his mother with false wide-eyed innocence, the rogue wanted her to say it! He didn’t think she would be capable of laying out her scheme in explicit detail. He was quite mistaken.
“Don’t give me that sweet-as-a-lamb look, child,” Jane warned. “The three of you have sinned enough to fill the second circle of hell all on your own, and leave no room for others. You will do what you do with any gentle born lady. Compliment her. Seduce her. Fuel the fire deep within her. Lure her into passion. But do nothing to worry me in a month’s time. Understood?” Had she been in a better mood she would have laughed at the flush of embarrassment on their faces.
“What? You expect me to play ignorant of such things? I gave birth to five children, and I assure you that I did not do that all on my own. Your father played a significant role in bringing your miserable existences about. There’s that little book from India I believe you all own? The one with all the illustrations. Don’t pretend you don’t know it, because I’ve read it as well.”
“Mother! For God’s sake!” Lawrence begged, cutting his mothe
r off.
Jane allowed a smile to curve her lips.
“It isn’t as much fun when you are on the other end of unpleasant thoughts now, is it?” She clapped her hands together. “Now then, off to the ballroom. And remember, do what I charged you or you will beg for mercy, and I shall have none to give. I brought you into this world, and should you displease me, I shall happily remove you from it.” She made the threat in such a sweet tone that all three of her sons shuddered.
The moment Avery, Lawrence and Linus entered the ballroom, Lawrence turned to his brothers, speaking so he could not be overheard.
“What do you say we try the shell game?”
“Who will be the main player?” Avery asked in a low whisper.
Lawrence spoke up. “I will. You both remember what to do?”
The shell game was something the three of them had done together many times. No matter the form the game took, each knew his role. Linus and Avery nodded and the three of them separated. Linus went straight towards their unsuspecting prey, while Avery and Lawrence broke off opposite directions.
Chapter Twenty
Horatia perched in a chair against the wall, listening to Lady Rochester’s performance on the pianoforte. Cedric attended her, turning the pages as he followed her progress on the sheet music. Audrey was dancing with Gregory Cavendish, the two of whom seemed to be making the most of the wide expanse of the ballroom. Avery and Lucinda were dancing near them and Lysandra was dancing with her youngest brother.
A smile tugged at Horatia’s lips. It warmed her to see Audrey so happily engaged. Her first season had been quite a disappointment after word of Cedric’s overbearing nature circulated among the young bucks of the ton. Audrey had wept for days when no flowers or cards had been delivered to her. There was nothing so cruel as to watch one’s sibling suffer. Marriage was all the poor girl wanted, and with Cedric’s watchful eyes she simply didn’t stand a chance.
