Christin's Splendid Spinster's Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)

by Charlotte Stone

  What was his part in that area of her brother's life?

  Last night, she had lain awake until nearly dawn thinking about why her brother might have gone to a house like that. Some small part of her was certain that there must be a reason for his presence there, whether it was at the behest of another friend or perhaps some kind of ministerial work, but the truth was as stark as sunlight.

  Madame Zephyr said that men came to her house to enjoy themselves and to enjoy the beautiful girls who worked there. He must have been a patron of Marilee's, for she could come up with no other reason why he would have her card secreted away in his desk.

  Did that mean that he and Nicholas had quarreled over the woman? What could it mean that Nicholas was hurrying her out of London?

  She hadn't expected Nicholas’ offer. In truth, before they had had that talk, she had been considering leaving herself, finding a room where she could continue her investigation.

  Ah, but even that hadn't been easy, had it? She could believe that her reluctance was about wandering a London that still felt hostile and strange to her, but she knew that wasn't it. It wasn't even that Nicholas had resources far beyond what she could command.

  It was, plain and simple, that she would miss Nicholas. The idea of not seeing his face, of not hearing his laugh or feeling his warm hands on hers was unbearable.

  Eunice stirred from her couch, and she blinked her pale blue eyes at Lydia.

  "Oh, my dear, such a frown you wear. Do you have a headache?"

  "I suppose I must," she said with a faint smile. "It feels like all I deserve."

  Eunice made a noise of disagreement and fluttered around the room, calling for cold water and a cloth from the maid. Eunice covered Lydia's eyes with a cool wet cloth, and Lydia had to admit it did feel good. In the darkness under the cloth, however, she considered what else she was blind to.

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  CHAPTER ELEVEN

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  The maid delivered a note to Lydia the next morning. She looked at in puzzlement and when she opened it, she could not resist a small smile tugging at her lips.

  Would you care to join me for a museum exhibition this afternoon?

  "Please tell the duke that I would love to join him," she said, and she turned to her wardrobe. How long had the maids been sneaking in dresses without her awareness? It seemed filled from side to side with dresses in all shades. It still felt strange to be out of black, but Lydia could not deny how simply good it felt to see those shades of rose and buttercup and mint.

  She hesitated over a blush pink walking gown and one in soft jonquil, but then she chose a green instead.

  It has nothing to do with what Nicholas said yesterday, and everything to do with how much I like green, she told herself, but deep down, she knew it was a falsehood.

  Nicholas was waiting for Lydia and Eunice in front of the house, ready to hand both of them into the carriage. Despite her resolve, Lydia could not help but sigh a little over how handsome he looked. Nicholas was dressed in the fashion of the ton, with tight biscuit-colored trousers, a snowy white shirt and a jacket of bold blue superfine wool.

  "Well, what a picture we make," Eunice chirped happily, who herself was dressed in the ruffles of a good decade ago. "We shall turn heads all over the exhibition."

  "You do look very handsome," Lydia offered, and Nicholas grinned.

  "Do you think you could sound a little less grudging when you say that, Lydia?"

  "It's Lady Lydia when we are in company," she said sternly, but she couldn't repress a grin of her own. "And no teasing me about calling you Nicholas in public either. I'm sure my reputation would not bear it."

  "It's fine, we have Eunice with us. She is the very picture of propriety."

  As a matter of fact, the very picture of propriety was peering out of the carriage in fascination, watching the world go by and paying not a moment's worth of attention to what was going on in the carriage.

  Lydia sighed.

  "I suppose that will have to do."

  Lydia fully intended to go into the day with a pleasant attitude and with a willingness to fulfill her bargain with Nicholas. She knew he had his reasons for wanting her in the world and not worrying at her brother's investigation. She knew Nicholas had secrets, as did her brother.

  Ever since her father died, however, it felt as if she was in the dark. She had once read of places in the far north where night could last for six months, and now she felt as if she knew what it was like to live in those distant climes. When Lydia looked at Nicholas, she also knew what it was like to see the first day of sunshine after that darkness.

  The museum exhibition was lively and bright, full of people who had come to see marble statues brought all the way from Greece and Italy. Even before they came to the marbles, Lydia was taken aback by the sheer number of people of all ages and races in the gallery, how they all mixed companionably and with little regard for how they looked or who they jostled.

  "Well, that's London for you," Nicholas said cheerfully. "The greatest city in the world, if you ask me. Don't tell me you are getting cold feet now, Lady Lydia?"

  Carmody did not have more than two thousand people in it, and she suspected that the city block they were on hosted far more. She was feeling a little overwhelmed, but at Nicholas’ teasing, she straightened up.

  "No, your grace," she said. "I am only eager to see the art, of course."

  "I see that."

  They walked with due decorum, Nicholas leading the way and Eunice and Lydia arm in arm behind them. Lydia was not sure she had ever had a day that was solely designed for pleasure like this, and she felt oddly light, as if she were a bird fluttering from tree to tree.

  "I think I saw you break into a smile back there," Nicholas said, stepping back to murmur in her ear. "It's not so bad being out and about, is it?"

  "Not at all. If you had told me about the crush, I think I would have wanted to stay at home, but now that I am in it, well, it's very exciting, isn't it?"

  "London has a great deal to offer. I am hoping to show you more of it as time goes on."

  "Why?"

  Nicholas looked surprised at her blunt question, and when he spoke again, she was startled to hear just a bit of shyness in his voice.

  "Because seeing you in delight pleases me beyond all measure, Lydia."

  Before she could express her surprise, he strode forward again, and Eunice was calling her attention to a clever marble statue of a rearing horse.

  Surely, it will not be a terrible thing if I spend some time seeing London, even if it does not directly lead to my mission of discovering more about Benjamin's death. I'm sure this is fine.

  Four young children ran by, exhilarated by their day out and pointing at all the sights. Behind them came their governess, exasperated but as pleased as her charges to be out in the fine day. The sight made Lydia smile, and suddenly, there was nothing wrong with the world at all.

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  CHAPTER TWELVE

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  Nicholas found that he couldn't take his eyes off Lydia. He had seen her take down a bandit with a perfume bottle and attempt an escape from two constables, but it seemed as if out of mourning and in the lively world of London, she gleamed. She looked at the world around her with a fresh wonder that made his heart beat a little faster, and when she gazed at the crowds and the art with equal pleasure, it made him smile.

  There was also something oddly tender about the way she kept a firm hold on Eunice's arm, shielding her from the rustle of the crowd and making sure she walked slowly enough so that Eunice could keep up.

  If anything. Eunice seemed as enchanted with Lydia as he was. While Lydia was examining
a bouquet of flowers carved entirely out of freckled marble, Eunice pulled Nicholas close.

  "There are some women that you must not allow to pass you by, great-nephew. I certainly hope that any relation of mine would understand that."

  Nicholas, who was more used to his aunt's flights of fancy, blinked at her brisk admonishment. Then she was off again, arm in arm with Lydia and pointing out some new amusement. Nicholas followed along behind them, and when Eunice sat down on a bench and pronounced herself too tired to move on, he was prepared.

  "Oh, no, shall we return to the carriage, Miss Eunice?" asked Lydia with concern, but Eunice was already shaking her head bravely.

  "No, no, my dears, I would not like you to miss out on such a pleasant day on my account. I shall stay here and be very content as you see the rest."

  Lydia looked as if she might like to protest, but Nicholas was already offering her his arm.

  "I'm sure Great-aunt Eunice knows her mind best," he said, and when Lydia took his arm automatically, he was leading her away.

  "Why do I suddenly think that you both planned that somehow?"

  "Surely not. My great-aunt is as innocent as a barnyard kitten. She would never do anything the least improper."

  "I suppose I must take your word for it, but believe me when I say that I will be questioning her very closely when we return to the house."

  "We don't have to do that, you know."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Well, we are having such a lovely day out. Perhaps we should extend it."

  "And where would we go, your grace? Are you after a dinner out, perhaps?"

  "Well, I confess that I'm of a slightly more ambitious mindset. To the continent perhaps and see Barcelona? To Greece perhaps, to see where all these marble statues come from?"

  Lydia laughed, and Nicholas swore that he had never heard a sweeter sound. He saw some men in the gallery turn toward them with interest, but he tightened his grip on her arm. The surge of possessive jealousy startled him. he had never been a particularly domineering man before, but Lydia changed many things, it seemed.

  "You ought not say such things to me, your grace. As you have often noted, I am impulsive enough to run off to London. Do not give me the opportunity to run off to Greece as well."

  "Has it always been a dream of yours?"

  "Oh, yes. Greece and Italy and points even farther away. I have always wished to see the places that I have only read about in books."

  "I will take you, if you wish, Lady Lydia."

  Nicholas was perfectly earnest, but Lydia only laughed again.

  "As I said, be careful what you promise me."

  "I refuse. I want to promise you the world."

  She looked up at his tender declaration, but just then they came around to a gallery where half the room was curtained away. When they came closer, they saw a booth where a worker was obviously meant to stand and a sign as well.

  "The works hidden behinds this curtain are of a gross and deviant nature, and they are only meant for viewing by mature-minded gentlemen of age," read Lydia with some indignation.

  "You sound offended. Wounded at the suggestion your sex is too weak to suffer these indignities in marble?"

  "I suppose I am. You may have paid for my ticket, but it was certainly not less in price than yours. Why should I receive less value for my ticket?"

  "Quite right, Lady Lydia." Nicholas risked a short look around. "Shall we equalize the playing field?"

  "What—?"

  Lydia stifled a yelp as Nicholas tugged her behind the curtain, making Nicholas laughed.

  "Not going to show the white feather now, are you?"

  "No! Let's see what is so deviant that women and children are not allowed in."

  There were a few nude statues that Lydia had to avert her eyes from, but they were modest overall, Nicholas thought. For a man who had traveled all over the continent looking for pleasure, they were positively pedestrian, and they didn't much seem to impress a young girl from the country. At least they didn't until they reached the final area in the forbidden gallery.

  "Oh," Lydia whispered, and Nicholas’ eyes widened.

  They had certainly saved the best piece for last. It was enormous, carved from glowing pure white marble, and in full life-size, it showed a man and a woman in what could only be seen as a carnal embrace. They were a tangle of limbs sculpted in perfect attention to detail, and though there were flowers and hair obscuring most details, nothing obscured the way they were looking at each other.

  Nicholas had never seen such a perfect representation of the mix of lust and love as was shown on this statue. The woman looked up at the man as if he was the only thing in the world, and the man looked as if he had found his life's meaning.

  "My goodness," Lydia murmured faintly, looking up at the statue. "There are many things I would call this, but I would not call it deviant."

  "Holy, perhaps," Nicholas murmured, "though it is so very much a pagan thing."

  "Sometimes I feel like a pagan thing," Lydia murmured, turning to him, and he couldn't resist her. They turned to each other, and when Nicholas took Lydia's face between his hands, he felt as if he was holding something precious, something that he must not let go.

  He had kissed so many women in the past, done so much more with them, but nothing compared to kissing this one country girl in front of an ancient statue dedicated to a long-lost sensuality.

  When he felt Lydia's shy tongue brush against his lower lip, Nicholas nearly groaned outright, holding her even closer to him.

  "Beautiful and perfect Lydia," he murmured.

  She started to reply, but instead suddenly pushed him away.

  "There are people coming!"

  They straightened themselves quickly and left the restricted gallery. It looked like no one had caught them, but Nicholas could see the high delighted blush on Lydia's cheeks as they walked quickly away.

  As they went to rejoin Eunice, Nicholas was aware that this couldn't last, not really, but the dark shadow of what he knew couldn't blot out the pleasure of being with Lydia in the here and now.

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  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

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  One rainy afternoon just a few days later, the maid informed Lydia that Nicholas was due to be absent for most of the day.

  "He's very sorry, Lady Lydia, and he wishes to send his regrets for abandoning you and his great-aunt."

  "Well, we shall certainly miss him," Lydia said automatically, but her mind was running ahead to Nicholas’ study.

  It had been on her mind for a while. Nicholas was keeping secrets from her. He brushed her off when she asked about his relationship with her brother, and though he said that there were men researching the matter, she had seen nothing from that investigation yet.

  By all rights, she knew that she should have stormed out to conduct affairs in her own name, but

  she didn't want to leave Nicholas.

  It was so easy with Nicholas, being with him, laughing with him. In Carmody, life was quiet and dreary, with every hour passing much like the one before. In London, with Nicholas, it never seemed dull, even when they only went to stroll in a park or to take the air on the banks of the Thames.

  I never knew that I was so easily bought for an afternoon of pleasure. Deep down, she knew that it was more than that. Being with Nicholas soothed a deep disquiet in her, and for the first time since her brother died, or even before, she knew a real and lasting peace. She didn't want to give it up, no matter how much her comfort left her feeling mildly ashamed.

  He was gone for the day, however, and Lydia decided that it was time to take up her investigation again. It was easy making her way to his study without being seen by the servants, but just as gained the door, she heard the doorbell chime.

  Just a friend or perhaps a business matter Not
hing for me to worry about.

  Unlike the first time she had seen it, Nicholas’ desk was in a disarray. It seemed he had been looking for something and unearthed a number of papers to get at it.

  As she scanned the documents, she was startled to see her brother's name on one, the subject of a letter from a Mr. Featherby.

  To His Grace, the Duke of Winnefield:

  According to your instructions on the matter of Benjamin Waverly, Earl of Sallport, I have made arrangements for the earl's funeral costs and medical bills...

  What? What medical bills did Benjamin have to pay? And funeral costs? She knew her brother was buried in London, but she had not considered who had paid for it. In her grief, she had assumed that her father would do so, but now when she remembered it, her father had barely lifted his head.

  While her mind was still whirling from this new knowledge, before she could even read the rest of the letter, she heard footsteps in the corridor. She flinched, waiting to be caught red-handed, but they passed by, the servants' chatter trailing after.

  "Says he's the Marquess of Carmody, but I don't know. Surely, a marquess dresses better than that?"

  Her heart started to beat faster. After a moment of consideration, she folded the letter from Featherby up into eights and slipped it under her foot in her shoe. She could look at it later, but right now, what was her father doing in London?

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  "My girl, you do not understand what a shock it was to my world when I realized two days ago that you had left home."