Leonora stiffened. “That’s not fair,” she said, unable to keep the hurt from her voice. “I told you from the beginning that this was not a true betrothal. That hardly means I am incapable of handling complex situations. Indeed, I should think a pretend match is a great deal more complicated than a real one. At least with a real engagement, one is able to be oneself.”
“Funny you should say that,” Freddy said mirthlessly. “Because I am never more myself than when I’m with you. Clearly, you are not burdened by the same degree of comfort in my company.”
It wasn’t true. Only moments ago in his arms she’d felt more relaxed than she had in years. But for both their sakes, she couldn’t tell him that.
“I think it’s time you go home,” she said tersely. “Your valet will be able to wrap your ribs, I think. And if necessary you can call a physician.”
He stalked stiffly to the door of her sitting room. When he reached the door he turned. “I suppose I should be grateful you tended my wounds at all. It showed a disregard for convention that would be upsetting to a lady involved in a false betrothal.”
She listened as he descended the staircase with as much speed as a man with his injuries could.
Too late, she remembered the invitation his mother had conveyed that morning.
Closing her eyes, she wondered when this infernal day would end.
Twelve
Despite their disagreement earlier, when he’d gotten home to find a summons from his mother for dinner that evening, he sent a note round to Leonora informing her he’d pick her up at six.
His valet had indeed wrapped his ribs, which could very well be broken, but might be said optimistically to be only bruised. Freddy wasn’t sure if he cared about the difference. Either one hurt like the devil.
Rigged out in evening dress, with his unruly curls tamed to something like a fashionable style, he felt close to human again. The liniment his valet had given him for his bruises had helped, too.
The ride from the Craven house to the Pemberton town house had been blessedly short. Which meant he and Leonora had exchanged only inane pleasantries instead of insults and recriminations. Which was good, he supposed, but he wished somehow they could get back to the closeness they’d shared that afternoon before she remembered his mother’s visit.
Now, he stood on the threshold of his mother’s drawing room and glared. “What are you doing here?” Freddy demanded of the room at large. He’d expected to see Archer, since apparently he and Perdita had returned from the country, but his mother’s summons had said nothing about the rest of his brothers attending this evening.
If Leonora had been frightened by his mother’s unscheduled visit that morning, then being swarmed by the entire Lisle brood without warning would send her into a conniption fit.
“Is that any way to treat your dearest siblings, Freddykins?” asked Lord Benedick Lisle wickedly, his clerical collar shining white against his dark coat. “We wanted to meet this paragon who has agreed to leg-shackle herself to you for the rest of her days.”
Freddy glanced at Leonora to see what her reaction was to the crowded room. To his relief she seemed to be taking the surprise family reunion with aplomb.
Turning to Benedick, he frowned. “You’re a vicar, for pity’s sake,” he protested, his arm tightening around Leonora’s waist. Damned fellow was too handsome by half. It was a wonder he’d not been killed by the husband of some lovesick parishioner. “I would expect this sort of remark from Cam, because he’s a heathen scientist, but you? I thought it was against the church code or some such to embarrass one’s siblings in front of their fiancées.”
“You’d be surprised about what is and isn’t against the church code, old fellow,” retorted Benedick as he stepped forward and bowed over Leonora’s hand. Only Freddy noticed that his eyes lingered on her bosom as he did so.
Vicar or no, he was going to bloody his brother’s nose as soon as his knuckles healed.
“I hope you’ve been warned about this one, my dear,” Benedick said to Leonora with a grin. “I’m afraid he might be the least civilized among us. Though I do suppose he’s right about Cam, who lives in primitive surroundings and collects rocks, being a heathen. Really, I’m the best of the lot, as you have doubtless noticed.”
“They are specimens,” Cam interjected, edging out his elder brother so that he could kiss the back of Leonora’s hand. Like Benedick before him, his eyes brushed slowly over her bosom.
Mentally, Freddy added Cam to his list of future victims.
“Lord Cameron Lisle at your service, Miss Craven,” his brother said, the gold highlights in his light brown hair glinting in the firelight as he held Nora’s hand a bit longer than entirely appropriate. “I hope you will give me the chance to prove to you that not all of us are—”
“I apologize for these barbarians, Miss Craven,” interjected another brother, elbowing Cam out of the way. “I’m Lord Archer Lisle, my dear. The handsome one.”
“The newly married one,” Freddy said with a growl as his youngest brother bowed over Nora’s hand. So far, he’d been the only one of the Lisle brothers to keep his eyes to himself.
He supposed he could thank Perdita for that small wonder.
Even so, he wasn’t going to put up with any funny business. “Don’t think you’re going to turn her head with your diplomat’s tongue, Archie. I don’t care how handsome you are.”
Leonora sniggered beside him but Freddy couldn’t stop himself. “Nor you, Cameron. No lady wants to talk about rocks all day. She’d die of boredom in the first quarter hour.”
“Speaking of rocks,” Benedick said as Freddy led Leonora to a chair by the fire. “Who’s been throwing them at your face?”
Freddy was saved from replying by the arrival of yet another Lisle.
“Boys,” the Duchess of Pemberton, matriarch of the House of Lisle, said as she stepped into the room and surveyed it until her eyes lit upon Leonora. “All of you are being boorish. Stop it at once. You know how to treat a lady better than that.”
In unison, as if they were all still in the schoolroom, the brothers said, “Yes, Mama.”
“You must tell me later how you manage that,” Leonora quipped, looking round the room in wonder. “It is a rather impressive skill to have in one’s quiver.”
Freddy just bet she’d like to be able to quiet him as easily as that, he thought grimly, remembering their argument earlier.
“They are a rowdy lot, but my own,” his mother was saying as she handed Leonora a glass of sherry. “And here is my husband to show you where they got their charm.”
Turning, Freddy saw that his father had indeed entered the room. A still handsome man in his fifties, the duke’s brown hair was shot through with silver now, but no one would mistake his age for feebleness. The Duke of Pemberton had been a man of power for some years, and would be for several more to come.
“It’s my pleasure, Miss Craven,” he said as he crossed to take Leonora’s hand in his. Fortunately, his back was to Freddy, so the bosom test was not possible. Which was all well and good, because if he caught his father looking at her bosom, he’d just have to blind himself with one of Cam’s rocks.
“I’ve long wished to meet the lady who has the power to tame Frederick,” the duke said to Leonora. “He’s the most troublesome one, you know.”
“I’m still here,” Frederick said sulkily from his post against the mantelpiece. To Leonora he said, “Pay no attention to these people, my dear Miss Craven. They have a fondness for exaggeration and half-truths.”
Before Leonora could respond, Archer spoke up.
“Did you hear something, Cam?” he asked with a puzzled frown, cupping his ear. “It’s like a bee buzzing.”
“Now that you mention it,” Cam said, cupping his ear, too. “Yes, I may have heard a wasp.”
“You are hilarious,” Freddy said in a flat tone. “Really, you must be loads of fun at children’s parties.”
“My dears,” said P
erdita, coming to his rescue. “You mustn’t tease your brother. Or his fiancée. You’re being very rude to mob her like this on her first visit to Pemberton House.”
“Hardly mobbed, Mrs. Lisle,” Leonora said with a laugh. “Though I can see now where Lord Frederick gets his quick wit. It’s rather overwhelming to be in the room with five of him.”
“I quite understand, Miss Craven,” Perdita said with a smile. “They can be intimidating, can’t they?”
Freddy had yet to see the day that Miss Leonora Craven proclaimed herself to be intimidated. He knew quite well that it wasn’t today.
“I hope you don’t mind, my dears,” his mother said in that way she had of apologizing without actually apologizing. “I’ve invited a few of the extended family, as well. It’s not every day that one of my sons becomes betrothed and I wanted them to celebrate with us.”
Damnation, Freddy thought. Leave it to his mother to make the misery of this evening complete.
With a sense of inevitability, he saw that Sir Gerard Fincher and Lady Melisande Fincher had entered the room.
Before Nora could do anything but look up and gape, Freddy was at her side. He couldn’t say anything aloud, but he hoped at least his presence would offer her some comfort.
“Leonora has already been introduced to Gerard and his lady, Mama,” he said cheerfully, resting his hand on Nora’s shoulder.
The duchess looked puzzled at the change in his tone, but she didn’t remark upon it. “How delightful,” she said. “Then you will not mind that I’ve put you beside Gerard at supper, my dear Miss Craven.”
Freddy clenched his teeth. But before he could object, his cousin spoke up.
“What a pleasure, Duchess,” Gerard said as he and Melisande stepped farther into the room. “I’ve not yet had a chance to speak to Miss Craven about her poetry. I must say that I find the creative process such a fascinating subject. I wonder sometimes whether such talent runs in families. After all, I believe her brother was quite the fantasist, as well.”
At the mention of Jonathan, Freddy felt Leonora stiffen. What the devil was his cousin about, taunting her like that?
“I have read a bit of Jonathan’s prose, Gerard,” he said with asperity. “And I found it to be quite grounded in reality. Indeed, I feel sure he left some of it in his family’s safekeeping.”
As he’d hoped it would, Freddy’s arrow found its mark.
His eyes narrow, Gerard said, “How interesting, cousin. I should like to come by Craven House one of the days to look it over. As I said, Jonathan Craven was quite imaginative. Why, you’d be shocked to hear the stories he came up with.”
Perhaps sensing the dark undertone in the exchange, the duchess chose that moment to announce dinner.
“Will you be all right?” Freddy asked Leonora softly as the others rose. “I can speak to my mother if you don’t wish to sit beside him.”
But his Nora was made of sterner stuff. “I will be fine,” she said firmly. “I will not let that man think he’s frightened me with his veiled threats.”
And since Gerard approached with his arm out, Freddy had to bite his tongue and watch them walk away.
* * *
“I hope you will tell me more about the workings of your driving club, Sir Gerard,” Leonora said as she tasted the first course of her dinner—a delicious turtle soup. “My brother was never very forthcoming about it, and I do so wish to know how he spent his time over the last few months of his life.”
But if she thought it would be as easy as that, she was mistaken. “My dear Miss Craven,” Sir Gerard drawled, “I cannot possibly share any details about the club with you. It’s for gentlemen only, you understand. And there are some things that our club holds to be sacrosanct. Though of course I regret the need to disappoint you.”
“I’m sure you do, Sir Gerard,” she responded, a mask of indifference hiding her annoyance at his condescending tone. “I suppose there are some things that will forever remain a mystery to us poor ladies. What with our feeble minds and oversensitive emotions.”
Thirteen
“You are mocking me now,” said Sir Gerard, his lips tightening almost imperceptibly. “But I can assure you that we have our reasons for keeping our secrets. If word were to get out, I am quite sure that any number of persons might be harmed. It’s not all fun and games for the Lords of Anarchy, you must understand.”
“On the contrary, Sir Gerard,” she said with what she hoped seemed like sincerity. “I do quite understand the need to segregate some activities by sex. We could hardly last very long as a civilization if gentlemen were to suddenly take over the running of the household or—heaven forbid—the rearing of children. No, sir, I am quite content with the knowledge that there are some things I should be protected from, but it is my tender woman’s heart that wishes to know these things about your club. For instance, what actually happened when my brother’s curricle had an accident. He was such a skilled and experienced driver, you see, and I should hate to think that he lost his life because of something that might have been prevented.”
Sir Gerard looked at her from beneath hooded eyes for a moment. Finally he sighed, and placed his hand over hers. “Then let me assure you, Miss Craven,” he said in a condescending tone that made her want to stab his hand with her fork, “your brother was very much enjoying himself when he died. He loved competition, your brother, and it was one of my greatest joys to watch him at the ribbons. And he was racing when he died. I assure you he will be missed by our entire membership.”
Leonora bit back a wave of sadness. Gerard was right about one thing. Her brother had loved racing. More than almost anything. It was just a shame his last race had been with the man sitting next to her.
“You are very kind, Sir Gerard,” she said with a sad smile. “I don’t suppose you or a club member have his curricle, do you? I mean the one he drove. That day.” She paused, waiting for some response. But Gerard was not so easy to manipulate.
“But I’m sure you were told already, Miss Craven,” he said with a frown, “that Jonathan’s curricle was stolen by whoever caused his accident. That is what the local magistrate decided at any rate. I was sure your father would have related this information to you. But I daresay he was trying to spare you from further pain.”
Then, perhaps thinking to forestall more questions, Gerard patted her hand. “I really do understand your need for answers, but I think it would be best for all of us if you were to simply go on with your life. It’s what your brother would have wanted. I’m sure of it.”
Leonora fought to keep her temper under control. The nerve of that man to tell her what her own brother would have wished to happen after his death. Especially given the blackguard’s involvement in that death.
He truly was without conscience in the matter, she fumed.
Well, she was finished playing mouse to his cat.
Looking up from her shaking hands, she saw that Freddy was gazing at her from across the table. He raised his brows as if to ask if she were well.
Silently she gave a short nod. Freddy nodded back, then turned his gaze on Gerard beside her. Who was blithely eating his dessert without any awareness of the death stare his cousin was giving him.
Leonora was startled from her observation of Freddy by the voice of his brother.
“I must tell you, Miss Craven,” said Lord Benedick from her other side, “that I am very fond of your latest essay in the Ladies’ Gazette. The one about the rights of married women.”
Thankful for the distraction, Leonora settled in for a lively discussion of political philosophy. And if she glanced at Freddy far more than was entirely healthy for her, then it was her own fault for failing to protect herself against his charms.
She very much feared that despite her better judgment she was falling in love with him.
* * *
From his seat across the table, Freddy watched with barely concealed anger as his cousin spoke to Nora. He could tell from the condescending look o
n Gerard’s face that he was pontificating about something to her. Or threatening her as he’d done earlier.
All he’d wanted to do when Gerard spoke about Jonathan’s imagination was plow his already bruised fist into his cousin’s face. But despite his savage anger, he knew that they needed to bide their time to ensure Gerard was caught out in a way that would get him a punishment more lasting than a broken nose.
“If you keep looking at her like that, you’re going to scare the poor girl off again, Fred,” said Archer from beside him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you look this jealous since you were at Eton.”
At least his brother mistook his rage against Gerard for jealousy over Nora, he thought glumly. He almost wished to ask for help in this matter from his brothers, but that would be far more trouble than it would be worth.
Sitting up, he flashed a fake smile at Archer.
“That’s better,” his younger brother said approvingly. “What’s got you staring daggers at Gerard? I know he’s not our favorite relative, but he hardly warrants the evil eye you’ve been giving him since he arrived.”
Drinking liberally from his wine goblet, Freddy reconsidered whether to tell his brother about Gerard. Given that Archer had dealt with a threat to his own lady just a few months before, he might be just the man to talk to. And unlike Benedick and Cam, he could be trusted to keep the story to himself.
“Let’s just say,” he said finally, “that our least favorite cousin has been up to something nefarious. Something that ended with the demise of Leonora’s brother.”
His brother’s brows drew together. “Jonny Craven. I knew he’d died of course. A carriage accident, wasn’t it?”
“Indeed,” Freddy said, glaring at his curried lobster. “Though it may not have been as accidental as all that. And, given that it was during a race with Gerard at the time, there’s no way our cousin isn’t involved somehow. He might not have landed the killing blow, but he damned well ordered it.”
A Good Rake is Hard to Find Page 14
