She clutched a colourful, softly draped shawl around her shoulders, which did little to conceal the crumpled ball gown she wore beneath.
“I am distressed to hear such cant comments from your mouth,” Lucius said.
“Are you?” Juliana grinned saucily up at him. “I can’t think why, since I mostly learned them from you.”
“Hoyden,” Lucius growled softly, taking her arm. “Come with me.”
He led her into the library before releasing her. Juliana took one look at the visitor and gasped.
“Emmaline? Oh, Emmaline, my dearest friend!” She sped across the floor and flung her arms around Emmaline. “It is so good to see you. But what are you doing in London? Come, tell me all.”
Juliana pulled up a lyre backed chair and sat beside Emmaline, but Lucius quickly interrupted them.
“Before Miss Devereux regales you with her situation, I would like to know why you are only now entering my house rather than exiting it.”
Juliana gave him a disarming smile.
“Well, Lucius, it was the most frightful inconvenience,” she said, shaking out her shawl. “Aunt Meg, as you know, felt a little unwell when we left for the Knightley’s rout yesterday. During the course of the evening she became quite agitated and even harts horn and burnt feathers gave her no relief. Lady Knightley sent her to bed and called for her doctor.”
“And what ails her?”
Emmaline deduced from the expression of tired resignation that settled on Lucius’ face that Aunt Meg was something of a liability.
“Poor thing, she is suffering an attack of the ague and is to stay abed for at least two more days,” Juliana told him. “There was nothing for it but for me to stay the night as well. And I am happy to tell you, dear brother, that I would much rather have been at home.”
“And why would that be?”
“Because Peregrine Styles was also a guest.”
“Sir Peregrine Styles?” Lucius started so violently that Emmaline drew back in her chair. His harsh features twisted into a grimace as he struggled to contain himself.
Juliana drew herself to her full, and impressive, height.
“I refuse to do him the honour of recognizing his title. I also made quite sure that he had left before Lady Knightley’s housekeeper showed me to my room. She called up her carriage to bring me home this morning.”
“And did it not occur to you to send word to me?”
Anger brought an edge to Lucius’ voice and Emmaline watched, fascinated by the mobility in his features.
Juliana simply tossed her head, apparently impervious to her brother’s temper.
“Send word where, Lucius?” she asked. “You would have been out on the town with your latest chit, or gaming or carousing or some such thing and I thought I would be home before you were about this morning.”
“Well, you thought wrong, and now we have more of a predicament than we did before.”
“Why?” demanded Juliana.
Lucius briefly explained Emmaline’s situation. “Now that Aunt Meg is indisposed I see no other solution, Miss Devereux, than I drive you home.”
“Oh, no, my Lord,” countered Emmaline hastily. “I had no intention of being a bother to you. That would never do.” She pressed her fingers to her lips as if to prevent more words from spilling out.
“Yes, it would,” interrupted Juliana. “It would be famous. And,” she added, a smile curving her lips and a mischievous sparkle lighting her eyes, “it would be an opportunity for my brother to air his new team of Hungarian horses of which he is so proud.”
Before Lucius could respond, a thunderous hammering on the recently closed front door startled them all. Tubb could be heard remonstrating with the new visitor, who loudly insisted all was as it should be and he was expected.
“This house,” Lucius ground out between clenched teeth, “becomes more like Bedlam by the minute.”
The newcomer, his morning attire enlivened by a lemon yellow and white striped satin waistcoat from which hung several fobs, advanced into the room and slapped Lucius on the back in the most familiar way.
“Avondale, just the man I was wanting to see!” he said in greeting.
Lucius inclined his head.
“Good morning to you too, Beamish, but please do not forget your manners.” He indicated the two young ladies. “Juliana, you of course know but may I also present Miss Emmaline Devereux. Miss Devereux, this is my good friend Mr. William Beamish.”
Beamish bowed to the ladies and stepped forward.
“’Pon my soul, you grow more lovely every time I see you,” he said as he took Juliana’s hand and performed another bow. Juliana acknowledged the greeting with a warm smile, then he turned to Emmaline. “Miss Devereux . . ?” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Not the Miss Emmaline Devereux?”
Lucius frowned. “How so, Beamish, would you know her name?”
Beamish smiled and bowed to Emmaline. “This, if I am not mistaken, is the Miss Devereux who rode Tunstall’s grey. Delighted to make your acquaintance, if I may say so.”
“Rode Tunstall’s grey?” The tone in Lucius’ voice conveyed his disbelief. “That beast is seventeen hands if he is an inch and built like the side of a cliff.”
He tried to imagine the slim figure sitting before him perched atop a horse with the reputation of unseating everyone who tried to ride it.
“With Emmaline anything is possible,” said Juliana.
Casting a sideways glance in Juliana’s direction Emmaline gave a quick shake of her head, which Lucius did not miss.
What did she not want Juliana to divulge?
His lips compressed with concern.
Miss Devereux sat demurely, like a schoolroom miss, apparently impervious to his observation of her but what did she conceal behind that sun-kissed complexion and exotic blue eyes?
Her dress did her no credit but he was now sure that was by design. Her interactions with Juliana hinted at some secrecy.
His head told him to beware. His heart had still not recovered from his first sight of her. But what of those almost indefinable flickers of unease he detected in her?
What did she have to hide?
CHAPTER 2
A smile transformed Emmaline’s features as she looked up at him. Her plump lips were a little moist and eminently kissable.
Kissable? He started. What would those lips taste like? Would she be willing, giving? Lucius quickly diverted the thought even though his wayward mind wanted very much to further it.
Her eyes sparkled but were quickly shielded by the downward sweep of her lashes.
“Oh, Misty is but a sweetheart if handled with sympathy.”
“Misty?” Lucius countered. His eyes widened in surprise. “That brute has a name?”
“Of course.” Emmaline glanced at each of her companions. “Lady Tunstall told me that when she and Lord Tunstall were staying with the Allison’s in County Sligo, she took an early morning walk. On hearing hoof beats she looked up and there he was, coming out of the mist. So that’s what she named him.”
Juliana clapped her hands. “What a delightful story!”
“But not, from what I hear, a delightful mount.” The frown had not yet left Lucius’ face. “So, how did you manage him?”
“Indeed, Miss Devereux that is something we all would like to know.” Beamish pulled up another chair and sat down.
“Well, it was no clever thing.” Emmaline dipped her head as if shy about her accomplishment. “It was simply a matter of observing how each of the gentlemen who tried to ride him would be the master of him, and that is something Misty won’t have. So, when I had the opportunity to ride him, I didn’t try to control him. and found he needs just the lightest tough on the bridle to be biddable.”
A faint flush bloomed in her cheeks. Instantly suspicious, Lucius observed her more closely.
“How came you to this ‘opportunity’, Miss Devereux?”
Under his steady grey eyed gaze, Emmaline shifted sl
ightly on her chair before looking up. Her lips thinned and defiance gleamed in her eyes as if his question had offended her. He caught the exact moment when something in her finally gave. Her eyes slid away from his as she lowered her lids and her lips remained firmly pressed together.
Juliana looked on, a small smile playing on her mouth.
“Oh, Emmaline can be very resourceful,” she teased.
“Indeed?” Lucius’ expression did not waver as he continued to watch her. “Might you have bribed the grooms, Miss Devereux? I collect that would be something of which my sister would be capable.”
“No, not quite, my Lord.” Emmaline twined her fingers together, then untwined them and pressed her palms to her knees.
“Then how so?”
“Yes, Miss Devereux, you have to tell,” encouraged Beamish.
Emmaline continued to keep her eyes cast down. Beamish leaned in, awaiting her answer and an amused expression flitted across Juliana’s face.
Our visitor is playing to a gallery of one, Lucius thought as he watched Beamish for, far from unaware of her friend’s apparent play acting ability, Juliana appeared to be encouraging it.
“When the gentlemen had gone about their business, I simply asked the groom to saddle Misty for Lady Tunstall.” Emmaline peeped up again from under her lashes and Lucius consciously steeled himself against the power of her eyes.
“You see,” she said hesitantly, “Lady Tunstall had expressed a wish to ride him herself but when her groom was about to put her into the saddle, she became apprehensive. I suggested she have her own comfortable hack saddled so that we could ride together and well, I rode him in her place.”
The stunned silence that greeted Emmaline’s story broke when Beamish and Juliana burst into laughter.
Lucius kept control of his emotions, but he couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting.
“I see.” In his mind’s eye he could imagine the groom being quite undone by one blazing look from those blue eyes. The poor man would not have had a chance to refuse. “Resourceful indeed.”
“As I told you,” Juliana said, a smug expression on her face. “And I could tell more . . .”
“Oh, no, Juliana,” Emmaline admonished. “Your brother does not want to hear anything of silly schoolgirl games, and all that was such a long time ago.”
“And on the subject of time,” continued Lucius,” is it not time we returned you to your home, Miss Devereux? Your maid arriving on her own will surely give concern to your family?”
“Indeed, you are correct, my Lord.” Emmaline appeared to be vastly relieved to change the subject. “My Great-Aunt Babbidge is a sensible woman, not given to the vapours you understand, but I fear she may now be seriously worried.”
Lucius crossed to the fireplace and pulled on the bell rope hanging beside it. Its distant peal summoned Mr. Tubb, who appeared in the doorway almost instantly.
“Ah, Tubb,” said Lucius. “Have Noble bring up the town carriage if you please.”
“With the Hungarian team,” added Juliana.
“No, the greys,” corrected Lucius. He turned to Juliana. “Let me advise you, young lady, that my cattle are my business. Those Hungarians are not yet working together as well as I would like. Now, I suggest you go upstairs and make yourself presentable.”
“As you please, Lucius.” Juliana got to her feet, as did Beamish. “Come, Emmaline, we can continue our coze in my rooms whilst I change.”
Beamish held the chair back for her as Emmaline stood. She murmured her thanks and followed Juliana from the room.
As the door closed, Beamish let out a long theatrical sigh.
“I say, Avondale, did you ever expect to meet such a dashed amazing female? Tunstall’s grey, of all things,” he said. A look of bemusement spread across his homely features. “That will put that pretty Miss Lassiter, who thinks herself the most splendid horsewoman, in her place, I’ll be bound.”
“And I’ll be bound,” Lucius said quietly, “our lives will never be the same again.”
Beamish looked up, a surprised expression in his eyes. “What would make you say that?”
“Beamish, have you not been taking note of that young lady, or are you simply bewitched by her beauty?” Lucius’ said tersely. Beamish, a close friend and usually sharp of mind, could at times be annoyingly dimwitted.
“Well, one could not help but look at her, could one?”
“No, one could not,” agreed Lucius, his voice soft but heavy with suspicion, “but I think Miss Devereux uses her beauty as a mask.”
Oblivious to Beamish’s protestations Lucius, deep in thought, rubbed his long fingers across his chin.
It wasn’t just the arrival of Juliana’s friend that caused him to ponder. It was also Juliana’s mention of Sir Peregrine Styles.
What could the cad have said or done to make her refuse to acknowledge his title? Was it just that his sister was ever his champion? Or was there something else, something she had not yet divulged to him?
The rumble of carriage wheels in the street outside caught his attention.
“It appears the carriage is ready before the ladies,” he said. “Do you accompany us, Beamish?”
“Indeed, but whilst we have a moment, may I speak with you about Juliana?” asked Beamish, his face a little flushed.
“Juliana? What about her?” Well aware of his sister’s lively mind and considerable energies, Lucius expected to be regaled with another of her woeful escapades. “What has she done this time?”
“N-no-nothing, Avondale,” Beamish stuttered.
“That’s alright then.” Lucius was only slightly mollified. “The girl’s four and twenty and should by now be wed with a home and family of her own.”
“And that’s something that perhaps I, well we. . . “
Merry voices outside the library announced the ladies’ arrival and Beamish lapsed into silence.
Entering the hallway, Lucius cast a glance over his sister and nodded his approval.
“At least we haven’t kept my greys standing too long,” he said.
“Oh, you and your horses!” Juliana scoffed. The ostrich feather trimming her bonnet quivered with the toss of her head as she swept past him.
“Miss Devereux?” Lucius escorted her and let her pass through the doorway before taking his hat and cane from Tubb.
Emmaline halted on the top step and Lucius stopped beside her, amused at the concentration on her face as she surveyed his team. She looked up at him as he joined her. Her head would fit perfectly neatly into his shoulder. He frowned. Now where the devil had that thought come from?
“Matched to perfection,” she said approvingly.
He looked down at her. Yes, they could be matched to perfection. Her height was right for him. Her dark locks matched his. He suspected an abundance of curls beneath her bonnet, judging from the way it sat on her hairline. A few tendrils of black hair curled at the nape of her neck.
An overwhelming desire to plant a kiss on the scant inch of bare skin between her bonnet and collar shocked him as did his reaction to her perfume, a mix of gardenias and honeysuckle. He inhaled the tantalizing essence and felt himself grow hard again and cursed under his breath.
Was there passion under that soft skin? He thought there may be, but she wasn’t looking his way. Despite his wariness regarding any woman’s attentions, it stung his pride to realize she referred to his horses, not him.
“You have a good eye, Miss Devereux. I compliment you.”
He escorted her down the steps, noted how lightly her hand lay on his arm, would have liked nothing more than to tease one of her glossy black curls out from beneath her bonnet.
“Perhaps you would be good enough to give your direction to Mr. Noble?” Lucius said as they reached the bottom step.
Emmaline turned to the groom holding the carriage door open. “Knightsbridge, if you please, Mr. Noble. Montpelier Street.”
“A respectable address,” Lucius commented as he handed
her in.
“Did you expect less?” Emmaline demanded, a spark of defiance in her eyes as she raked him with an indignant expression. She took her seat next to Juliana.
“I warn you not to cross words with my friend.” Juliana smiled at her brother. “She can better you any day.”
“But might be wise to not try,” warned Lucius, ignoring the smug look on Juliana’s face. His wayward thoughts carried him beyond crossed words to what might come after. Would passion carry her from heated conversation to heated carnal activity?
Damnation.
Why could he not get thoughts of bedding her out of his head?
The carriage dipped as Beamish entered it. Noble closed the door and put up the step. They travelled in silence, each occupied with their own thoughts as the carriage bowled smoothly along the Knightsbridge road beside the great expanse of Hyde Park and, with few vehicles to hinder them, soon pulled up outside a tidy terrace house.
Lucius noted with approval the freshly scrubbed steps and gleaming brassware on the door. Before Noble could descend from the box, a stout, motherly looking person rushed out of the house.
“Have you got my Emmaline there?” she demanded.
“Indeed, Ma’am,” drawled Lucius as he alighted from the carriage. “Please do not distress yourself.”
“Distress? Distress?” The lady fisted her hands on her hips. “I’ve been fair out of my mind with worry.”
Lucius took Emmaline’s hand to assist her from the carriage, aware as he did so that a shocked gasp escaped her lips.
A frown pulled his brows together. He meant only to be polite yet, in assisting her, it seemed he had offended her. Rather than simply delivering her to her home and washing his hands of her, he found himself transfixed.
Continuing to hold her hand he watched the alarm grow in her eyes until, with a little jerk, she broke the contact and in an instant was swept into her great-aunt’s embrace.
“My God, Em, I could box your ears, so I could. Sending Annie home alone like that, and me no idea of where you was at!” She released Emmaline and dropped a curtsy to Lucius only now taking note of the insignia on the carriage door. “Well, my Lord, I have to thank you, indeed I do. Please to come inside. A right ramshackle person you must think me for keeping you on the pavement.”
His Dark Enchantress (Books We Love Regency Romance) Page 2
