by Eloisa James
“Yes.” Villiers sounded a bit testy.
“Perhaps the adults are being removed to allow more time for answering riddles,” Eleanor offered, turning on her side and tucking a hand under her cheek. “In that case, we should expect Lisette to join us any moment.”
He snorted and threw himself into an armchair. She was trying to remember her dream, because he had been in it. Oyster had thrown himself at her in his usual frenzied display of love, and—
“You were wearing a pinafore,” she exclaimed. To a raised eyebrow, she explained, “In my dream. And,” she added thoughtfully, “nothing else.”
“I would like to have that dream about you, but I don’t care for the thought of myself in a frock. You look tiresomely beautiful,” Villiers observed. He stretched out his legs. “It’s not that I mind being locked up with you, but what the devil are we doing in here?”
“I have no idea.”
“I told Tobias that I would not allow him to win the prize.”
“Well, that explains why you’re here, then. I fail to see why I should suffer the same fate. Nor why we have to be together.”
“You think that my son locked me in a room so that he could win fifty pounds, after I expressly forbade him to do so?” Villiers’s voice was cold, so cold, but she knew him now. She knew to look past the utterly dazzling costume he was wearing, and past his chilly look, straight into his eyes. He was angry…he was a little hurt.
“He’s just like you,” she pointed out. “What he wants, he intends to get.”
“I’m not like that. Well, I might be like that, but I don’t lock people in rooms.”
“Then you’ve learned something useful about your son. And I must say, if you didn’t already know that he believes in shortcuts to winning, you haven’t played knucklebones with him.”
“You’re the one who cheated,” he pointed out.
“Only after prying the bones out from under his leg and then again from his sleeve. He’s got those little girls of yours begging the answers from Lisette. Cheating, in other words.”
He was silent a moment. And then, very un-ducally: “Devil take it!”
“That’s parenthood,” she said cheerfully. “If you don’t lay down the rules the right way, the child simply slips the leash and does as she wishes. Just look at me. My poor mother has no idea what a hussy I am. She would be not only astonished, but affronted.”
“I don’t see why it’s her fault that you succumbed to Gideon’s blue eyes. Though may I add that I am astonished by the vapid shallowness with which he is basking in your mother’s attentions?”
“Gideon does adore my mother. When his mother died, she became something of a substitute.”
Villiers snorted. “Now what are we supposed to do?”
“I think we should probably prevent them from winning,” Eleanor said, standing up and stretching. “That was a very nice nap.”
“And just how do you suggest—Oh.”
Eleanor went to the balcony door, pulled the key from the keyhole, and paused, looking over her shoulder. “You know, I think it might be best if you allow me to handle this.”
Villiers got up, frowning. “Of course I will not—”
She didn’t hear the rest, because she had closed the balcony door behind her and turned the key. Then she walked through Villiers’s bedchamber, pausing for a moment to look at his silver-backed brushes, and went down the stairs.
It didn’t take her long to find the three children; she just had to call for Oyster and then listen for his bark. They were inside the half-ruined folly, another of Lisette’s abandoned projects.
“What are you three doing?” she asked, going down on one knee to greet Oyster.
Phyllinda’s eyes grew very round. “How did you get out?”
“The balcony.”
Tobias gave a quick look around.
“Your father is still locked in my room,” she told him, answering his unspoken question.
His mouth fell open too, so she was faced with three astounded little faces. Inheritance was a truly amazing thing: they could not be anyone else’s children. Not even given the fact that Tobias had cool gray eyes and the girls had lavender ones…it was the turn of their chins, the shape of their eyes, and some sort of shrewd, fierce intelligence.
“So why don’t you tell me exactly what you’re doing?”
“We’re planning to win, of course,” Lucinda said. Eleanor could see a dawning respect in her eyes. “Why did you lock the duke in?”
“I thought he might create more trouble than your plan merits,” she said, giving Oyster a last pat and standing up. “So you want to win all three prizes.”
“Fifty pounds each!” Phyllinda said with a little gasp.
“A lot of money,” Eleanor agreed.
Tobias just waited, his eyes narrowed. He knew her reappearance meant trouble.
“How are you doing with the clues so far?” she asked.
Lucinda stepped back so Eleanor could see their collection. Tobias’s velvet coat was crumpled into a nest that included, among other things, three rather dirty eggs. “We have all but one,” she said, giving her the syrupy sweet smile that Lisette so favored.
“Stop that,” Eleanor said sharply.
The smile froze.
“If you want to smile, smile. But spare me the acting. You don’t do it very well. Now which riddle haven’t you solved?”
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Tobias said reluctantly. “It’s only two lines. Little girl, little girl, where have you been?” And then, Gathering apricots to give to the queen. We were about to go back to Lisette again because we don’t know where to find an apricot. I don’t think they even grow here. I’ve only seen one once.”
“It’s a nursery rhyme,” Eleanor said. They all blinked at her. “A rhyme for children,” she explained. Of course they hadn’t learned any frivolous rhymes, given their childhoods. “Next line is, Gathering roses to give to the queen. The girl gives the roses to the queen, who gives her a big diamond as a reward. I suppose that Lady Lisette is the queen—she is wearing a crown—and you need to give her an apricot-colored rose.”
“That’s easy!” Lucinda said. “There’s a load of roses around the side of the house.”
“They’re not the right color. She wants the ones by the river. Come on,” Eleanor said.
They walked out of the folly and around the back of the house, Tobias carrying his precious cargo wrapped in his coat.
“Oh, there you are!” Gideon called, walking toward her. He didn’t bother to acknowledge the children, just took her arm and brought her to a halt. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You missed the strawberries and cream.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, pleasantly enough, “I’m engaged at the moment. But I should be back in five minutes.”
He didn’t like it, but she gently pulled free and walked on. As they left the gardens and started down the path to the river, a small hand slipped into hers. Phyllinda was looking up at her, her eyes clear and her mouth unsmiling. “I don’t like him.”
“That’s because he doesn’t like you,” Lucinda put in.
“He’s a molly,” Tobias said. “There’s something ratty about him. Just stay away.”
“Why ratty?” Eleanor inquired.
“He has big front teeth. You know how the duke looks a proper fright in those coats he wears?”
“I suppose you mean Villiers?”
“Yes, him. He’s got awful taste, but all the same, when he looks at you, you know what he’s thinking. Whereas that one looks a bit unhinged. Maybe he’ll marry Lisette. She’s the same.”
Eleanor thought about it for a moment and then said, “Your father is marrying Lisette, Tobias. So you mustn’t say slighting things about her, particularly in front of Phyllinda and Lucinda.”
“They’re not stupid,” he said.
They rounded the curve and arrived at the stream. “The roses grow over there,” Eleanor said, pointing.
He was up the slope in a moment, and barring a bit of colorful language when he was introduced to the roses’ vicious thorns, he was successful. “We’ve got everything!” he said triumphantly, pulling open his crumpled coat to add the roses. By some miracle the three eggs were intact.
“So you’re going to claim the three prizes,” Eleanor said genially.
“Yes.” Tobias sounded guarded.
“And those other orphans, the ones Lucinda and Phyllinda lived with…they won’t win.”
“Not everyone can win,” Tobias pointed out.
“There are those who would say that you have won. After all, your father intends to give you each ten thousands pounds when you reach eighteen years. Whereas the Janes and Marys and the other girls will go off to be ladies’ maids.”
Phyllinda had her hand in Eleanor’s again. “At least they don’t have to make buttons any longer.”
“That’s true. But they will never live in a grand house with their brothers and sisters. You do know that you have three more siblings, don’t you?” And when Phyllinda and Lucinda nodded, “The Marys will go out to work because there is no one to take care of them. Whereas you have a father, and while he may have lost you for a while, he will always take care of you from now on, you know that.”
“Bloody hell!” Tobias said.
“Not in front of your little sisters,” she said, giving him a look.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Jane-Melinda didn’t solve a single clue because she can’t read,” Lucinda said. “She’s awfully nice. I’ll give her my egg and rose and stuff.”
“A girl named Sarah-Susan told me where to find you in the sty,” Tobias said. His tone was begrudging but accepting.
“We could give mine to Mary-Bertha,” Phyllinda said. “Because once when Mrs. Minchem said that Lucinda couldn’t have any breakfast or lunch, she kept some bread and gave it to us. Do you remember that, Lucinda?”
Her sister nodded, but Eleanor was having trouble speaking around the anger in her throat, so they just went up to the lawn in silence and found the girls in question.
Eleanor stood watching the excitement as the three little girls claimed their prizes, until she remembered that she had a duke locked in her room. Tobias seemed reconciled to losing; he was trying to train Oyster to walk on his hind legs, which was an anatomical impossibility, as anyone could have told him.
“I know why you locked your father up,” she asked him, “but why did you lock me in as well? And why in my bedchamber?”
He looked up with an odd twist to his mouth. “I don’t like Lisette.”
She nodded. “I see.”
“The old nanny told me that if a lady and gentleman are locked in a room together, they have to get married. Which doesn’t make sense,” he said frankly, “because if they want to be shaking the sheets, they don’t need sheets to be doing it, if you know what I mean.”
Clearly Tobias had seen more than he should have in his short life, but he didn’t seem particularly scandalized.
“So you thought…”
“I’d rather you than her,” he said. It wasn’t much of an endorsement, but it felt good. “How’d you get out, anyway?”
“The balcony door was unlocked and no one had the faintest idea we were together, so your plan came to naught. And I do think that people do better to choose their own spouses. Your father wants to marry Lisette.”
“And you want to marry that ratty duke?” His tone was indescribably scornful.
“Yes,” she said rather faintly. “He’s an old friend.” She looked up and saw Gideon determinedly making his way across the lawn toward her, followed by her mother. “I had better let your father out now. Take care of Oyster.”
She dashed into the house, pretending she didn’t hear her mother calling.
Leopold was asleep. He had stripped off his coat and was lying sprawled out on her bed. She tiptoed across the carpet and stood next to him. He would never be beautiful, like Gideon. He was blunt and complicated, and still grieving for his brother.
She was in love with him.
Horribly, truly in love. The kind of love that wouldn’t alter, ever, and wouldn’t admit impediments.
Lisette was an impediment.
Gideon was another.
And frankly, Leopold was the third obstacle, given his professed intention to marry Lisette. Her love may not alter, but it wasn’t going to succeed either.
She kicked off her slippers and then reached under her skirts to unhook her panniers and her petticoat. Unfortunately, she couldn’t unlace her gown without help, so once she’d taken off her stockings, and left a heap of petticoats on the floor, she pulled up her skirts and climbed onto the bed.
Well, to be exact, she climbed on top of Leopold.
He grunted and pulled her down to him, and in that moment she realized that he hadn’t been asleep, not all the time she stood watching him, and certainly not while she was undressing.
“Did you dream about me wearing nothing but a pinafore?” she asked. He was kissing her neck and seemed to be—from all signs—very happy to see her.
“No pinafore,” he said. His voice had already taken on the wildness that was so opposite to his immaculately polished appearance as a duke. Her entire heart, her body, welcomed it. His fingers were…everywhere.
“Eleanor?” he asked, pulling his shirt over his head.
She didn’t respond, just waited for him to throw off his breeches, grab a French letter, and then greedily took all of him.
“I didn’t get to kiss you,” he said, arching up with a look of fierce bliss that belied his complaint.
“Next time,” she said, gasping. “I have decided not to marry Gideon.”
His eyes were closed, but at that they opened. She put a hand over his mouth and rode him hard, but she couldn’t divert him. His eyes stayed on her face, even as his body rose to meet hers.
“I know you want to marry Lisette,” she told him, keeping her hand over his lips even though he was nipping her fingers. “And I honor your decision. I am not saying this because I want you to marry me.”
Though she did, she did.
He managed to pull away her hand and she froze. “Say a word and I’ll leave,” she said. He shoved upwards and she easily evaded him. “Right now. I’ll leave this room.”
“It’s your room!”
She took him with a wave of heat and pleasure, and lost track of her thoughts for a bit, but then remembered.
“I’m not trying to make you marry me,” she said, gasping a little because he had picked up the pace.
“Why not?”
That couldn’t be hurt in his eyes.
“Because you’re doing something honorable,” she said. “You feel that Lisette will make a better mother to your children. We’re not children, Leopold. We can speak the truth aloud to each other.”
“I just—”
“I know,” she said, leaning over to give him a kiss. It was almost too tender, though, and she had to sit up again fast, before she kissed him again. “It’s easier for me, because I don’t have children.” She gave him a lopsided grin. “I’ve decided to marry for love.”
This time he froze.
“I don’t love Gideon, so I won’t marry him. I used to love him, but somehow it all changed.”
A moment later she found herself flat on her back, and they weren’t making love any more.
“Leo,” she whispered.
He was braced over her, frowning down through a lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes. He was delicious…heartbreaking.
She nipped his lip. She’d be damned if he’d ever find out how she felt. She didn’t ever want yet another man to know that she loved him more than he loved her. Never again.
“You’re so ca
lm about my marriage to Lisette,” he said, scowling. “I want to kill Astley, every time I see him. Hell, every time he even looks at you I feel like wringing his scraggy neck.”
“That’s because you’re a man,” she said, ignoring the little voice in her head that reminded her just how murderous she felt every time Lisette trilled out her excitement over becoming half of Leopold and Lisette, as she kept referring to them. “Do you suppose that you could make love to me now, Leopold?” She reached up and ran her fingers along his cheeks. And then she said it, because it had to be said. “We’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.”
He looked down at her, and then he pulled away.
“Leopold?” She looked down at herself. Her blue gown was rucked around her waist, and her bare legs were trembling.
But he got up and walked away from the bed, raking his fingers through his hair.
The words going through her head were not words that a lady was supposed to know, let alone think. She pulled her gown down over her knees and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I can’t make love to you knowing it’s the last time,” he said finally, his voice tight.
She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t fight for him. If she were to voice what she thought about Lisette…she might convince him. But it would always be her opinion against his. He had to either see it himself, or—or marry Lisette. That was all there was to it.
He turned around. “I’ve never felt this way about another woman. But I don’t have the freedom to choose whom I wish.”
“I understand,” she said. “I have—” She stopped.
“You’ve heard this before,” he said, his voice flat. “There’s no will constraining me, Eleanor. But I honestly think that Lisette is unique in her attitude toward the children’s illegitimacy. She doesn’t even see it as a problem. She can teach them to live without shame. She already adores the girls, and they adore her. I can’t—”
He turned away again.
There was a long moment of silence. Sunshine came in through the balcony door and slashed across his broad shoulders. She didn’t let herself feel…anything.
Finally he said, “I can’t choose whom I would, because I made this bed, as the saying goes. And I must lie in it.” He turned back to her.
