Lizzie looked at him, realizing with shock that the anger clouding his face earlier had not been solely for Freddie. He was, in fact, angry with her. It was not enough to have to flirt with Freddie; she would now be tasked with facing Geoffrey’s ire. No doubt he would say she was not behaving in a seemly manner. Not being a proper widow.
Or had she actually made him jealous? This thought gave her an irrational burst of hope. It would mean he had deeper feelings for her after all. She had to know.
*
Geoffrey looked at Ria expectantly, waiting for a response.
“I believe I was dancing with Freddie,” she said. “Now I am standing outside with you. Does that answer your question?”
Geoffrey tried to control his anger. All he had gleaned from his prayers and reflection was that somehow Ria needed him, needed his help. This he would willingly give. But how could he help her when she seemed so determined to do herself harm?
He took her by the arms, doing his best to keep from shaking her. “I saw the two of you in there. I warned you before that he is dangerous. He preys on women he knows to be vulnerable. Clearly you are in his sights.”
“I am well aware of the sort of man he is,” she said, giving him a defiant look. “I thank you for your concern, but I am able to handle myself. Perhaps you should be returning to Miss Cardington. She has set her sights on you, that is plain.”
“Lady Cardington has been doing the hunting, not Lucinda. She—”
He stopped short, realizing with dismay that he had used her Christian name, implying a greater intimacy with Miss Cardington than, in fact, existed.
Ria noticed it, too. “Lucinda?” she repeated, a note of inquiry in her voice.
He shook his head and began again. “Miss Cardington is a very admirable lady, and she is pliable enough to acquiesce to her mother’s schemes.”
Ria gazed up at him, her violet eyes reflecting fire from the torchlight. “Is that what you want? Someone who is pliable?”
“No! I am not at all sure she is the right woman for me.”
“She is not,” Ria said in a pained voice. Her words shocked him. She looked as though she had surprised herself as well. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was wrong of me.”
He realized then that he was still holding her arms. But she had stopped trying to resist him. He relaxed his grip, but could not bring himself to let her go.
She lowered her head and leaned in, closing the gap between them ever so slightly. Geoffrey found his head instinctively lowering toward her hair, seeking the soft rose scent that always seemed to linger about her.
She lifted her face at that precise moment, and her cheek brushed against his. Their eyes met. He knew then that he would be forever powerless to fight against her pull. It was delicate and unseen and yet as unstoppable as the moon’s draw on the tide.
Her lips parted, an unconscious request that he could not deny. He bent his head and kissed her.
It was startling, that first touch of his lips on hers. He realized then that he had been wanting this from the moment he had laid eyes upon her. Even bruised and bleeding in the street, she had drawn him to her with that curious mix of strength and vulnerability that he had never seen in any woman.
Ria made a small noise, whether in protest or in compliance, he did not know, but he could not stop and she did not pull away. Her hands came up around his neck, her mouth now seeking his, kissing his lips, his cheek, his chin. It was too good, too satisfying, too right.
Right? He was kissing his brother’s widow! And yet he could not resist kissing her once more, knowing the sweet richness of it would haunt him forever.
At last he found the strength to pull away. “We must stop.” His voice held no conviction.
She tried to pull him to her again. “Please…”
“Ria!” He said it too roughly, causing her to wince.
The heat from their kisses faded into the cool breeze.
Grabbing what self-control he had left, he said, “You know why we can’t do this.”
Her hands fell to her sides. “Yes, I know why,” she said with a shaky attempt at a laugh. “I cannot imagine what you must think of me.”
He wanted only to take hold of her, to kiss the contrite expression from her lips, replace it with the longing he had seen there moments before. It took more strength than he ever thought possible just to stand motionless, to keep some distance between them.
Ria turned away and walked to the stone railing lining the terrace at the edge of the lamplight. Geoffrey glanced quickly toward the French doors leading to the ballroom, belatedly aware that they might have been seen. Thank heaven they seemed to be alone.
He followed her to the railing. There they stood, unspeaking, gazing out over the garden below. A full moon flooded the landscape with silver light. The effect was achingly beautiful, deceptively peaceful. Music and laughter drifted from the ballroom.
Ria was trembling, but Geoffrey did not trust himself to reach for her, to comfort her. He could tell from the way she held herself that she was not asking for solace. They must keep as much distance between themselves as possible.
Guilt overtook him. How had it happened? He had only been trying to warn her about Hightower. Surely this was not what the Lord had in mind. But she had been too irresistible. How easily sin does beset us, he thought.
“Ria.” Her name seemed to bruise his dry throat as he said it. “I cannot even begin to apologize. It was unforgivable of me to take advantage of you as I did.”
“No.” Her voice was barely audible. “You did not take advantage.” She turned to face him. “I wanted to kiss you. I wanted—”
I wanted you.
She did not have to say it aloud. Her expressive eyes, so earnest under those delicate brows, spoke more loudly than any words.
The realization shook Geoffrey to the center of his soul. Plenty of women had wanted him for his money, his position, even for his honorable reputation. But never had he been convinced that a woman simply wanted him.
Fool, he reprimanded himself, recalling Ria’s former harsh words. What do you know about love?
Not much, apparently, if he could fall so irrevocably for the wrong woman at the wrong time. “Ria. We can’t let this happen again.” He was appalled at the harsh tenor of his voice, but told himself it was for the best. It might shake both of them into their right minds.
Her gazed fell, the longing now veiled. “It will not happen again. I leave for Rosewood tomorrow, and who knows how long it will be before we see each other?”
Two couples spilled onto the terrace, chatting gaily, disrupting any further chance to discuss the matter privately.
“We should go in,” Geoffrey said.
Ria nodded.
They reentered the bright lights of the ballroom. Ria did not meet his eye, nor did she see his bow as she left him.
He should have been glad that she was so willing to do the right thing. He should have been proud that they were going to put this moment behind them.
He should have been.
“Geoffrey, there you are.”
Geoffrey turned to see James approaching, accompanied by Freddie Hightower. “Come with us,” he said loudly. His face was flushed from drinking. “We are just going outside for a smoke.”
“It appears Geoffrey has just come from the terrace,” Hightower said with a smirk.
Geoffrey was sorely tempted to curse. The man must have seen him and Ria come in together. He could only thank God that Hightower hadn’t seen what had transpired outside.
“Well, then,” said James, undaunted. “He gets to go again!”
James was clearly feeling the effects of too much punch. He grabbed Geoffrey by the shoulders, nearly stumbling as he did so. Geoffrey set him to rights and, seeing there was no way around it, accompanied the two men outside.
Hightower pulled three cigars out of a coat pocket. “Looks like I’m buying this evening.”
Geoffrey would have refused, b
ut instead indulged in the minor pleasure of going against Hightower’s expectations. He accepted the cigar.
“What were you and your dear sister-in-law doing out here on the terrace?” Hightower asked.
Geoffrey determined to stay on the offensive. “I was warning her about you, as it happens.”
“How brotherly of you. I believe you are too late, however.”
“Too late for what?”
“Gentlemen, I think it’s time I told you a little story,” Hightower said. He lit his cigar and took a long pull on it. “Ria and Edward ran away ten years ago. They were not seen or heard from since.”
“We know that,” Geoffrey said impatiently.
“Yes, but it has bearing on what I am about to tell you. Here it is, gentlemen, plain and simple. About seven years ago, I fell under the spell of a charming young woman. A blond lady she was, with amazing violet-blue eyes that could reach out and snare you from fifty yards.”
The implication was clear. But how could he be talking about Ria? Seven years ago she was in Australia. Wasn’t she? Every time he’d seen her with Freddie, he’d been certain there was something going on between them. Something that went beyond the surface. “And just where, exactly, did you meet this lady?” Geoffrey demanded.
“I saw her in Hyde Park one fine Sunday as I was taking a stroll. She was so beautiful that I could not resist speaking to her.”
“You approached a woman with no introduction?”
“Freddie, how impudent,” James said with a grin.
“The lady was willing to speak to me,” Freddie replied. “And when a lady is willing…” He took another puff on his cigar and blew out the smoke with a self-satisfied air. “The long and short of it was that we struck up a very nice acquaintance. When I told her I was leaving for Europe on a grand tour, she begged me to take her along.”
James gave him a smile. “She begged you, did she?”
“She begged me.” Freddie relaxed against the railing and focused on the dancing inside as though he were seeing and reliving his grand tour. “We had a most agreeable time, of course.”
Geoffrey gripped his cigar tightly. The thought that Freddie could speak of his lustful affairs so casually rankled him for more reasons than he would admit. “What does this have to do with Ria?”
“Come on, man,” Hightower said impatiently. “Don’t be so deliberately obtuse. Ria has been gone for ten years. During that time, I spent nearly a year with a woman who was her exact double. I have not seen that woman since the day she and a so-called brother—who, by the way, looks nothing like her—took themselves off to God knows where. Now Ria comes back and tells you she’s been in Australia all this time. She says Edward has been dead for two years, but she doesn’t seem to be mourning him much. My guess is that he’s been dead for much longer than that, and that our lovely Ria has been engaged in a few more occupations than just sheep farming.”
Geoffrey threw his cigar away sharply, his anger rising. “How dare you insult Ria!” Every nerve was in revolt against this man who had not the slightest idea of common decency.
Hightower met his wrath with a look of smug satisfaction. “I suppose you feel it your duty to defend her honor? What will you do? Challenge me to a duel?” He laughed derisively. “I can tell you that’s been tried already.”
Geoffrey grabbed Hightower’s coat, forcing him from the railing.
A look of panic flashed across Hightower’s face, but he said coolly, “I cannot believe you would stoop to violence, Somerville. Have you already forgotten everything you stood for as a clergyman?”
“A clergyman,” Geoffrey said fiercely, gripping Hightower tighter and shaking him, “stands up for what is right.”
“Does he?” Hightower returned. “Well, then, perhaps you had better give up your claim to the title. I can’t help but suspect you’ve been stepping over that line between right and wrong.”
Geoffrey was a hair’s breadth from punching Hightower when James pushed himself between them. Apparently the altercation was beginning to bring him back to sobriety. “Gentlemen, calm yourselves. Do you want everyone to know what you are doing out here?”
Geoffrey let go of Hightower. He took a step back, upbraiding himself for losing his temper, and silently cursing the man who had deliberately caused him to do it. He would not allow the man to dictate his actions.
Hightower straightened his coat and his cravat. “I thought you would see reason,” he said, his smug expression returning.
Geoffrey kept himself in check. “I merely realized that your suggestion is preposterous,” he said evenly. “Why would Ria have come back to London, but not tell anyone she was here? It must have been someone who looked like her.”
“Now there’s an interesting supposition,” Hightower said. “If there is a woman who looks so much like Ria that one could pass for the other…” He tilted his head toward the ballroom. “Then who is the woman inside?” He turned to James. “You’re Ria’s cousin. You were playfellows growing up. You are the only one of us who actually knew Ria then. Is that woman Ria?”
James looked completely taken aback. “What an outlandish question. I should think I know my own cousin. She talks like Ria, remembers the silly games we used to play together. She knew the names of all the old servants who have been with us since we were babes.”
“And does she look exactly like Ria?” Hightower asked.
“She was a mere girl when she left. She is a woman now.”
“So there are differences?” Hightower pressed.
“Freddie,” James warned, “I will not allow you to go around publicly insinuating that my cousin is not who she says she is. It would ruin her reputation, and it would utterly crush Aunt Thornborough.”
“I do not care a whit about your high-and-mighty aunt,” said Hightower caustically. “However, I do not intend to tell anyone. I shall bide my time. If I discover she is not Ria, then she and I will have unfinished business to attend to.”
The sinister edge to Hightower’s voice was unmistakable. At moments like this, Geoffrey could believe every one of the whispered stories about what Hightower had done to his wife. The thought that Hightower might attempt some physical harm to Ria was far more harrowing than Geoffrey’s previous concern that the man was simply dallying with her. He was not about to let anything happen to Ria.
Geoffrey walked away without another word, leaving the other two men on the terrace. He searched the ballroom and adjoining rooms looking for Ria. He had to talk to her, to see her once more. Hightower’s words had launched dangerous ideas into his head, and he needed to reassure himself, regain solid footing.
But she was already gone.
Chapter 29
The carriage slowed as it entered the long drive to Rosewood Manor. Lizzie was taking in little of her surroundings, however; she was trying to sort out the tangled web her life had become. Months ago when she’d envisioned this day, she’d seen herself firmly ensconced as Ria and poised to prove she was a Thornborough. She seemed to be reaching that goal. How could she have foreseen all the events that would make this a hollow victory?
Soon she would have to make a choice. She had to rethink her decision to reveal herself, now that she knew Tom was alive. There seemed to be no good way out. Amid the multitude of her concerns about Tom, Freddie, and the letters, had been the most perplexing thing of all: what was happening between her and Geoffrey.
During the long drive from London, Lizzie had relived those moments in the moonlight with Geoffrey a thousand times: the warmth of his arms around her; his kisses filled with a heady blend of tenderness and desire. He was in love with her—she was sure of it.
He had to be feeling guilt over his attraction to his supposed sister-in-law. We can’t let this happen again, he had said. Lizzie had readily agreed. She did not want him to stay away for fear that it might go further. She wanted more than anything to see him again.
“Ria!” Lady Thornborough brought Lizzie’s thoughts back to t
he carriage. “You have not heard a word I’ve spoken.”
Had Lady Thornborough been speaking to her? She looked guiltily at the old woman sitting next to her.
“Your head appears to be in the clouds,” Lady Thornborough chided. “Perhaps you should bring it down to earth. We are nearly to Rosewood.”
“I’m sorry, Grandmamma.” Lizzie gave her an apologetic smile. Truly, Lady Thornborough ought to have been her first concern. She had promised Ria that she would do all she could to make Lady Thornborough happy. Was she at least accomplishing this? She could not resist asking, “Grandmamma, are you happy with me?”
The question came out sounding a bit forlorn, and it clearly took Lady Thornborough by surprise. “Goodness, child. Whatever brought that on?”
“I want to be a good granddaughter to you.”
“Of course I am happy with you. What a strange question.” Her voice was brusque. Lady Thornborough was not one to show emotions easily, as Lizzie was discovering. Her thin lips turned to a hint of a smile. “I will admit,” she added, “that you are not such a handful as you used to be.”
Lizzie put her arm affectionately through Lady Thornborough’s. “You say that as if it were a bad thing,” she teased.
She sighed and squeezed Lizzie’s hand. “You are not as lighthearted as you once were, but given all that has happened, it’s understandable. Perhaps, in time…”
“Perhaps,” Lizzie agreed, not wanting to disturb her with doubts. Trouble was, Lizzie did not know how much time she had left.
She turned her gaze to the carriage window. Now she took note of the stately oaks lining the drive and the mansion that was rising up before them as they drew closer. Rosewood Manor looked exactly as Ria’s mother had painted it all those years ago. The immense stone building stood like an elegant old lady, trimmed with a multicolored coat of rosebushes and laced with vines bursting with vibrant blooms. All was loveliness and serenity. To think of growing up in this place! Even Ria’s effusive praise had been inadequate. It was beyond words.
Lady Thornborough said, “Are you content, my dear?”
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