by Amelia Grey
“Yes,” Adeline declared. “I declined. I have no interest in the man.”
“But you do have interest in Lyon,” Julia said.
Adeline thought about that and said, “Yes.” She was surprised at how easy it was. “I’ve admitted as much to both of you before.”
“How much of an interest?” Brina asked. “You haven’t—I mean you haven’t—”
“She has,” Julia answered quietly.
“Adeline, you told Julia and not me!” Brina exclaimed.
“She didn’t have to tell me,” Julia answered. “I see it in her face every time his name is mentioned. He tapped into her soul.”
“My feelings for the earl really haven’t changed since the first night I met him. They were vivid and passionate then and they still are. I knew then he was different from any man I’d ever met.”
“But now there is a different kind of passion between you two,” Julia offered as more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, or maybe it’s more like an addition. He—he—” Adeline glanced toward Lyon as she searched for the right words to describe what she was feeling, and suddenly realized it was more than the wanton desire they shared. That was how it started but now it was love. Beautiful, sweet love.
“You don’t have to explain,” Julia whispered.
“Of course she does,” Brina exclaimed, wide-eyed with questions and not wanting to give up on wanting to understand. “He what?”
Adeline felt as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders now that she’d admitted to herself that she loved the earl. She looked at Brina and said, “He makes me feel wanted. He makes me happy and angry. He makes me feel peaceful and so many other things. I can’t explain all he makes me feel other than to say everything. Brina, I don’t know why so many emotions rise up in me and take notice whenever I look at him.”
“Do you think you’ve fallen in love with him?” she asked.
Hesitating to be so open with her feelings while she was still sorting them out for herself, Adeline said, “My feelings on marriage haven’t changed. I want no part of being bound to a man as his wife and all that he would expect of me. I know I’m not strong enough to put myself through that burden again.”
“How does he feel?” Julia asked.
“I believe his emotions are as conflicted as mine, but for different reasons.” Adeline glanced to where Lyon had been standing. He was gone. Her gaze searched the room. He was walking away from his aunt and heading toward the entrance to the ballroom. Was he leaving? Before they had a chance to speak to each other? How could he be so callous toward her?
For a moment she thought to turn away and think good riddance. But then she knew she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him get by with treating her so shabbily just because she refused to marry him.
“What are you going to do?” Brina asked, gently touching Adeline’s shoulder.
“Right now,” she said, feeling more than a little slighted and angry, “it looks as if Lyon is already leaving the ball. I’m going to talk before he does. Excuse me.”
Adeline tried not to rush and cause attention to herself, but the fear of Lyon leaving before they spoke gripped her. She knew he was upset with her because she rejected him. That was nothing new. He was always upset with her. Perhaps that was part of his allure. She smiled or nodded at everyone she passed, but didn’t allow anyone to slow her progress as she made her way through the crowd, up the three steps to where he was speaking to the attendant in charge of everyone’s wrap.
So he really was leaving and without saying hello or goodbye to her. That tore her heart.
“Lord Lyonwood,” she called, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt.
He turned around. Their gazes met. She was winded and her chest heaved. She realized she wasn’t angry. Just hurt.
She swallowed and tried to catch her breath. “Were you going to quit the ball without speaking to me at least once?”
His eyes questioned her. “Would it matter to you if I was?”
“Yes. Of course. I wanted to say hello to you.”
“You look angry.”
“Do I? Perhaps I am. I didn’t think you would leave without so much as a nod in my direction.”
“Is that what you thought?” he asked.
“Isn’t it true?”
He walked to stand before her. “You’re beautiful.”
Adeline’s stomach felt as if it turned over.
Other gentlemen had said she looked beautiful, but they had added the word tonight. Lyon hadn’t. She could tell by the way his gaze swept her face that to him she was always beautiful. Not just because she was fancied up for a ball tonight.
“I do have to say, Lady Wake, that crimson is your color.”
Her hurt that he was leaving didn’t vanish, but she smiled and then laughed softly, briefly. She knew he would eventually get around to mentioning the red stays she had on the first night they met. She didn’t mind. Thankfully she’d gotten over the embarrassment of being caught in the moment of fantasy.
“Every lady should wear a forbidden color at least once, don’t you think?”
“Indeed I do. And, I like seeing you laugh.”
“I laugh and smile, too, my lord,” she said.
“Then I’d like to see you do both more often.”
“Our conversations don’t seem to lean to the more frivolous topics that merit such humor. They are usually so, so—”
“Heated.”
“Yes. I suppose that sums them up well.”
“I must take the blame for that.”
“Good,” she answered and smiled again.
“I will take the fault for many things, Adeline, but I won’t take the responsibility for us not being together. My feelings haven’t changed. Marry me.”
Adeline lost her breath for a few seconds. “That is one of those serious discussions that doesn’t bring about many smiles, my lord. My feelings haven’t changed either.”
He nodded.
Adeline squared her shoulders and said, “I hope the girls aren’t singing too loudly in the mornings now that Miss Hinson plays the pianoforte for them each day.”
“Not at all. However, I now find myself wishing they were running outside laughing, squealing, and shouting at the top of their lungs to one another rather than singing inside.”
“What?” She gave him an incredulous look. “I believe you would grumble about anything, my lord. Not even wanting the girls to sing after you gave them the pianoforte? Next, you’ll be upset if you hear one of them breathing.”
Lyon chuckled. “I hope I never get that bad, Countess.”
“You are that bad, my lord.”
“Perhaps I have good reason this time. I do find it maddening when I can’t get the tune of ‘Here we go ’round the bramble bush on a cold and frosty morn’ out of my mind no matter how hard I try. I find myself humming the tune while I’m walking down the stairs, looking over the account books, or in the middle of a card game.”
Adeline laughed, too. “You cannot be pleased.”
His gaze swept up and down her face. Their gazes wouldn’t separate. “No, I can be. You please me.”
Yes. And he pleased her. A bond of respect and desire had developed between them the first night they met, and it hadn’t been broken. But neither of them was willing to accept the other on their terms.
“I admit the same thing has happened to me about the song. I’ll have to ask Mrs. Tallon to let that one rest for a while.”
He nodded. “What did you decide to do about Miss Fanny and Miss Mathilda?”
“After talking with Mrs. Tallon, I came up with what I considered an appropriate punishment for them, and I haven’t heard of either of them doing anything wrong since.”
“So you didn’t send them home?”
“No. I couldn’t. That went against every reason I wanted to open the school. Besides, your advice was true. I decided if I wasn’t going to let an earl get the best of me, I couldn’
t let two little girls do it either.”
He chuckled softly. “That’s what I expected. I hear you and Lady Kitson Fairbright and Mrs. Brina Feld are being heralded for your courage in opening the school for such unfortunate children.”
Adeline saw in his expression and heard in his voice admiration. Still, she said, “Heralded? That word seems much overstated.”
“I’m not making it up. I’m sure you’ve heard some of the comments tonight. I must have heard ‘those wonderful widows’ at least three or four times already.”
Adeline gave him a bit of a grin and then sighed. “I’ve received some questions about it. Mostly what I’ve heard is curiosity. I’m sure there are times you think we’re more like wicked widows for putting a boarding school next door to you.”
“Wicked? I would never think of the word wicked in the same thought with you, my lady. Well…” He grinned. “Maybe wickedly wonderful.”
“Perhaps that is why I find that some of the older ladies are not receiving me as well as they are Brina and Julia.”
“I neither see nor hear any jealousy in your voice about that.”
“There is none. Ladies have a right to be upset with me for barging in on a men’s card game if they wish—though I truly didn’t know what was going on when I entered. It was scandalous just the same and could have been more so. I have a feeling you had something to do with minimizing and quelling the severity of it. I am only concerned if it reflects badly on the school.”
“A scandal would only bother me if it hurt you in any way.”
The attendant Lyon had been talking to walked up and said, “Excuse me, my lord. Here is the cape you asked for.”
“Thank you,” he said, taking a lady’s black velvet wrap from her and placing it over his forearm.
“Aunt Delia was feeling chilled and asked that I get it for her. I was going to hand this off to her and go find you.”
Adeline’s breath sped up. “So you weren’t leaving?”
He gave her a roguish grin. “Without speaking to you? Without dancing with you? No, but I like that it made you angry to think I was going to.”
“You are a scoundrel,” she said.
He reached out and took two glasses from a tray as a server presented it. “I’d never leave without sharing a glass of champagne with you.” He gave a glass to her. “For tonight, a truce. There will be no more heated conversations. No talk of a subject that doesn’t bring a smile to your face.”
“For tonight only?”
“I can’t promise more than that. I want you to tell me about your childhood, Adeline.”
She gave him a curious look. “What kind of statement is that?”
“One that should make you smile. Most childhoods are happy ones, aren’t they? See you are already smiling.”
“That’s because I can see the boredom settling into your eyes before I even get started.”
“No. You don’t see that, Adeline. You could never be boring to me.”
“You’re serious. You want to hear about my childhood.”
“I do. I want to know everything about you. Where and how you grew up seems a good place to start.”
Adeline felt a tightening in the center of her shoulders. No. She couldn’t tell him everything. She didn’t want him to know everything.
“Excuse me for interrupting Lyon, Lady Wake.” The Marquis of Marksworth bowed. “I’d like to introduce my intended, Miss Helen Ballingbrand.”
Adeline looked into one of the sweetest faces she’d ever seen as formal introductions were carried out. Miss Ballingbrand wasn’t exceptionally lovely but her complexion was flawless. She had light brown hair and eyes and a fragile smile that seemed more fixed than natural. The marquis was an older Lyon. Tall, regal, and about as handsome and confident as a man could be.
“Lady Wake,” Miss Ballingbrand said, “Lord Marksworth told me about the school you started. I think that’s one of the most wonderful and compassionate things I’ve heard of anyone doing.”
Adeline quickly glanced at Lyon, who gave her an I told you so look. “That’s kind of you to say. There aren’t nearly enough boarding schools for girls and certainly not for the more unfortunate ones.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t know there were any, but then I was tutored at home and my knowledge of such things is limited to what my teachers wanted me to know. Your school must be one of the first?”
“Perhaps. In any case, we have much hope for its success in helping these young girls.”
“Do you think it might be possible for me to call on you one day for a visit so I can hear more about it?”
“Yes, of course. I enjoy talking about the school and welcome your interest.”
“Ah, Lyon. There you are with my wrap,” Mrs. Carbonall said, stepping up beside him. “I wondered what happened to you. Lady Wake, you are looking lovely as are you, Miss Ballingbrand.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Carbonall,” Adeline answered, feeling a note of sadness that her time alone with Lyon had come to an end.
“And, Marksworth,” Cordelia added, “I hear congratulations are in order—for the fourth time.”
“Yes, thank you,” the marquis said. “And I see you are in your favorite color tonight—green.”
“So you did learn something from Shakespeare’s plays when you were at Oxford. I wondered. I think it’s the first time you’ve let your knowledge of any of his writings be known.”
“Oh, I’ve done it many times, Mrs. Carbonall. Perhaps you weren’t fast enough to catch on to them.”
Adeline moved closer to Lyon and whispered, “Are your aunt and father always so contentious?”
He smiled. “No. Usually they don’t even speak to each other. That’s the way that makes both of them happiest. I just heard the call for a waltz. Since you won’t marry me, dance with me.”
Chapter 19
A canopy of blue sky and warm sun covered Lyon and his father like a blanket as their horses slowly picked their way across the acreage of Hyde Park. There was enough chill in the air to make his wool coat comfortable without needing a cloak or scarf to keep his neck warm. The wide expanse of sloping, tree-dotted land was sprinkled with carriages, carts, and people out enjoying the late spring weather or making their trek to attend their daily chores. Some on horseback, others walking, and a few seated on the ground enjoying refreshments from a straw basket. The park was loud with sounds of wheels rumbling over less-than-favorable terrain, shouts from drivers managing stubborn mules, and horses galloping in the distance.
His father didn’t often ask Lyon to go for a ride with him anymore. They used to ride together several times a week when they were both in London and the weather as fair as it was today. The past couple of years Marksworth had found he’d rather use the more convenient and comfortable velvet-cushioned carriage to carry him around than a leather saddle strapped to the back of a horse. Lyon never minded. He would be happy with a stroll. His father irritated the devil out of him at times but Marksworth was still his favorite companion.
Both their mounts knew the paths well, and they allowed the mares to pick the pace. Lyon and Marksworth’s conversation had been the usual topics they’d discuss on a mid-afternoon outing—the usual issues facing parliament, the King’s declining health, the Prince’s lavish spending, and the gossip of who had or hadn’t caught up his wagers at White’s.
A lull in their discussions gave Lyon time to think about Adeline. He’d seen her thrice in the last month at parties they’d attended. That wasn’t nearly enough. They exchanged plenty of long glances at each other but their conversations had been limited. The most important issue between them was never mentioned. There were too many dinners, balls, operas, and such events each evening for him to guess which she’d be attending. He’d tried. Short of asking her, he couldn’t know where she’d be or the time. At the Duke of Middlecastle’s house he’d actually been seated across from her. They each talked more with the guests on their right and left than to each other. It wasn
’t what he wanted. By the way she looked and smiled at him, he was convinced it wasn’t what she wanted either. She hadn’t found it within herself to trust him with her heart or that he would be a different kind of husband than her first one.
It was as if each was waiting for the other to make the move to give in to the others’ wishes. He still watched for her as he shaved each morning, but that hadn’t proved rewarding either. She hadn’t been back to that part of her garden.
“I suppose you’ve heard the latest gossip,” his father offered after a time of quiet.
There had to be a reason his father said that. Lyon didn’t want to react, but found himself asking, “Probably not. It seems to change daily. What is it?”
“Not one of the three widows has allowed anyone to call on them. Have you heard?”
“That none of them has? No,” Lyon answered as his horse shuddered beneath him and pulled restlessly on the bridle. He had heard some of the men in his card club grousing that they’d been snubbed by Lady Wake and Mrs. Feld. Lyon couldn’t say that bothered him.
“Don’t you find that surprising?”
Hearing that his aunt had had lovers during the past twenty years was surprising. It was downright heartening to hear that Adeline hadn’t accepted anyone’s overtures. He’d thought as much, but couldn’t be sure. On the occasions they were at the same gatherings, she’d had no shortage of gentlemen by her side, but Lyon hadn’t noticed that she’d given any one of them more attention than another.
“Some of the gents think the three of them have made a pact not to accept callers this Season. It seems a reasonable conclusion since they all three decided to sit out the first year they could have returned to Society after their mourning had passed. They attend every party together and seem to stick together like poesies in a bouquet wrapped tight with a ribbon.”
“Could be,” Lyon offered carelessly. “The ladies are quite fond of each other. They visit Lady Wake, but I haven’t seen any gentlemen’s carriages at her house.”
“So you’re watching.”
“Only when I’m home.” Lyon looked at his father and grinned. Marksworth laughed. Lyon probably looked more closely than Mrs. Feversham with her spyglass.
