The Most to Lose (9 page)

“There is always that possibility,” Celie said, giving Lord Haywood a half smile so he knew their comments were light banter.

“Do you see what kind of personality our Lady Cecelia has, Lord Haywood? No wonder her brother, the duke, has given up trying to reform her.”

“Who says I’ve given up?” a deep voice said from behind them.

Celie’s breath caught, and both she and Amanda darted looks in the direction of the voice. Only Haywood didn’t seem affected by the Duke of Hadleigh’s presence.

“Hadleigh,” Lord Haywood greeted after he’d risen to his feet.

“Haywood. Lady Amanda.” The Duke of Hadleigh acknowledged them with the dignity befitting his title, but his voice contained a great deal of stiffness.

The two enemies glared at each other for several tense seconds before Hadleigh spoke. He directed his question to Celie even though his intense stare didn’t shift from the Earl of Haywood’s face. “You realize you’ve attracted the attention of the entire room, Cecelia, don’t you?”

Celie stopped herself from glancing around the room. Their joking banter, as well as Jonah’s laughter, may have drawn a bit of attention, but nothing compared to the attention Hadleigh drew by joining his sister and the Earl of Haywood.

“I believe, if I’m not mistaken,” Celie said with a cordial smile on her face, “that you and Lord Haywood glaring at each other as if one of you might issue a challenge are attracting more attention than if I’d scream at the top of my voice. Perhaps both of you might be interested in taking your seats. There’s an empty chair to Amanda’s left, Hadleigh.”

Celie took several breaths, praying that the tension around them would dissipate.

It seemed to take forever before her brother made the first move. Only then did Haywood follow suit.

“May I?” Hadleigh asked, indicating the chair beside Amanda.

“I would be pleased,” Amanda answered.

The duke sat in his chair as if he were chiseled from stone. He held his back regally straight and folded his arms across his chest.

They sat in silence.

Celie waited as long as she could stand the uncomfortable quiet, then leaned forward and whispered, “I just told Lord Haywood that, when I was younger, I remember watching the two of you leave for the opera.”

Without indicating he’d heard her, Hadleigh answered, “How can you say that? You were just a child.”

She and Amanda simultaneously turned their heads to glare at him. “Your Grace,” she said, knowing the use of his ducal title would gain his attention, “I am only six years your junior. By the time you’d reached the advanced age of eighteen, I was a young lady of twelve. In case you doubt me, I can recall several other incidents that happened when I was that age. Some of which you might prefer I not mention in public.”

“Your sister’s always had an excellent memory,
Your Grace
.” The chiding tone of Amanda’s voice drew Hadleigh’s attention equally as sufficiently as Celie’s had. “I might suggest you dissuade her from recalling her
childhood
memories. Some of the incidents could well be embarrassing.”

The shocked look on the Duke of Hadleigh’s face was as entertaining as anything Celie could remember. She nearly burst out laughing.

Amanda had always enjoyed making remarks concerning Hadleigh, always commented in a teasing manner about his pompous air, his stiff demeanor, and his total lack of a sense of humor. But never had she been so forward as to challenge him to his face.

“Are you suggesting that there’s something in my past I wouldn’t want revealed, Lady Amanda?”

She lifted her eyebrows in a questioning gesture. “Are you suggesting that there’s
nothing
in your past you would rather not have remain there?”

Celie wanted to applaud Amanda’s bravery. She wanted to congratulate her on successfully engaging Hadleigh in a conversation that didn’t revolve around all the mundane topics of the decisions being made in the House. She wanted to give her friend a hug to thank her for putting a combative glimmer in Hadleigh’s eyes she hadn’t seen for three years.

She wanted to shout for joy.

Instead, she giggled silently and turned her head in the opposite direction so neither Hadleigh nor Amanda could see the laughter she couldn’t stop. What she saw when she looked away from them, though, was equally as mesmerizing as the couple to her left.

Lord Haywood wasn’t even trying to hide the amusement he found in the situation. He sat relaxed in his chair with a wide grin on his face.

When Celie turned, he met her gaze and broadened his smile.

Her heart did a rapid somersault and the blood flowing through her veins warmed to a soothing heat. He sat close enough so she could see several golden flecks in his ebony eyes, and a glimmer of something to which she couldn’t quite put a name stared back at her.

“I think your brother’s met his match,” he whispered, low enough that he couldn’t be overheard.

“The two of them have never been what you’d call
compatible
. Amanda thinks Hadleigh’s too full of himself. She enjoys nothing more than emphasizing his human failings, as well as what she considers his errors in political judgment.”

“And Hadleigh?”

“Oh, he’s convinced Lord and Lady Mattenden made a fatal error by not drowning their youngest daughter at birth.”

Jonah tipped his head back and laughed.

“Plus,” Celie added, “he’s convinced an even more serious error was made by allowing Amanda use of their library. She’s far too knowledgeable to fit into Hadleigh’s mold of the perfect society female, far too outspoken to conform to his expectations of demureness and refinement. He’s certain Lady Amanda will never make any man a suitable wife.”

“And what about you? I’m surprised he allows you to associate with Lady Amanda.”

“Oh, he’d forbid it if he thought I’d listen to him.”

“But you wouldn’t?”

“Of course not. I simply allow him to blame all my shortcomings on Amanda’s influence and continue our friendship.”

“And does Hadleigh consider you to be headstrong?”

“Of course. I’m not at all the soft-spoken, malleable female he thinks I should be.”

His smile broadened. “Good.”

Celie felt her cheeks warm and looked away from him before he noticed her embarrassment.

The room was full now, every chair occupied. Thankfully, the noise level was high enough that their voices could not carry. The bustle of excitement from the guests anticipating the performance did nothing, however, to ease the tension building inside her.

The emotions roiling inside her from sitting near Haywood were more powerful than anything she’d ever experienced before. The heat that wrapped around her when he looked at her unsettled her nerves. The emotional pull she experienced was so alien she almost couldn’t fight it.

She almost cried out in relief when Lady Cushing called for quiet and began her introduction. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could sit this close to Haywood before her nerves stretched to the snapping point. Every inch of her body tingled in alertness. Then Elthea Zunderman stepped to the front of the room and began her first selection.

Celie came alive the moment the mezzo-soprano sang the first note. It seemed impossible for such a petite woman to put out such a huge, rich sound, but she did. Celie was mesmerized, as was every other person in the room.

The gathering sat enthralled, hanging on to every lilting sound, anticipating every note, immersed in the experience of knowing they were listening to one of the greatest vocalists of the age.

Miss Zunderman finished her first selection, and for several long moments, no one moved. No one dared even breathe. Every guest in attendance sat spellbound. Her finishing note reverberated in the room, leaving an echo of perfection.

In unison, the audience released a sigh, then broke out in resounding applause.

The experience was spiritual, affecting one’s soul as effectively as it affected one’s emotions. Celie took a gasping breath, then wiped her gloved fingers over her damp cheeks. She hoped Lord Haywood hadn’t noticed how she’d been moved to tears, but the clean white handkerchief he held out to her said he had.

Thankfully, Miss Zunderman began her next selection before Celie was required to speak. She doubted she could have found words to express her feelings, doubted she could have found her voice to express her thoughts.

She risked a sideward glance to the man sitting next to her, then sat back against her chair and prepared to let the gifted angel transport her to the stars.

Life had suddenly turned perfect.

Celie remained in her chair when the performance was over. The front of the room was too congested to get anywhere near the talented Miss Zunderman.

“Would you care to take a stroll through Lady Cushing’s garden?” Lord Haywood asked when the crowd closed in on them. “Or should we make our way forward to offer our congratulations to Miss Zunderman?”

Celie looked to where Amanda and her brother stood talking to some acquaintances. They were engulfed by a sea of people and weren’t able to move in any direction. The crowd surrounding the vocalist grew deeper by the second. Celie shook her head. “I intend to offer my congratulations, but not now. I’ll speak with her after she’s had a moment to catch her breath.”

Haywood offered her his arm, then ushered her through the crowd to the open French doors that led onto the terrace. The moment they reached the silence outside, she realized how loud and uncomfortable it had been inside.

“Oh, this is wonderful,” she said, taking in a deep breath.

“You enjoyed the performance,” he said as they walked across the veranda and down the three steps that led into Lady Cushing’s garden.

“It was remarkable. I don’t remember the last time I heard such talent. I enjoyed every moment.”

“And I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed watching anyone as much as I enjoyed watching you.”

Celie stopped, then turned to look into his face.

The moon was full and bright, providing more than enough light to see his expression clearly. She could see the smile on his face and the look in his eyes, although she wasn’t sure she was reading his look correctly.

She couldn’t be, she told herself, for there was a hint of something she could easily mistake for interest. Or perhaps admiration.

“May I ask you a personal question?” she said, knowing this probably wasn’t the time or the place for such an inquiry, but needing to stop her imagination from dreaming of more than might ever be.

“Why do I have a feeling I need to be sitting for this question?”

She smiled at him in an effort to hide her nervousness. “Because you probably do.”

“Very well.” He scanned the area. When he located a wrought iron bench placed on a cement pad beneath a huge shade tree, he led her to it.

Celie sat down and he sat beside her.

“Very well, Lady Cecelia. I’m ready for this serious question that you’ve wanted to ask since I asked you to ride with me through Hyde Park.”

Celie couldn’t hide her surprise. “What makes you think I’ve wanted to ask you a question since then?”

“Do you deny it?”

She hesitated, then answered, “No.”

“I thought not.” He smiled.

For the first time in her life, she had a feeling she’d met someone who could see through her—perhaps too well.

“You’re thinking too hard. Relax and ask your question.”

Celie stared at her hands clutched in her lap while she thought how to phrase her question. She suddenly realized how important his answer was and how afraid she was that it wouldn’t be the answer she wanted to hear. But she had no choice. Nor could she afford to allow matters to go further if…

Well, she couldn’t.

She gathered her courage and let the words rush from her mouth. “Why have you concentrated so much energy on spending time with me?”

“Have you found my attention distasteful?”

Celie swallowed hard. “Please, don’t answer my question with a question.”

For the span of two of the longest seconds Celie had ever endured in her life, he said nothing. When he spoke, his voice was void of its former humor and sounded as serious as she’d ever heard him.

“Very well, I will answer your question, but you may not hear everything you want. First, though, I would like you to answer a question of my own. Do you find my attentions distasteful?”

“You know I don’t. I enjoy your company…very much.”

“I’m glad.”

He paused, and Celie imagined she heard him release a breath he must have been holding. Before he spoke, he pushed himself to his feet and took a step away from her.

“It wasn’t by accident that I sought you out that first night. It was intentional.”

He stopped, but Celie couldn’t let it rest there. She finished his sentence for him. “You sought me out because of my brother, didn’t you?”

He locked his hands behind his back and looked at her. “Yes, because of your brother.”

She wasn’t sure how his admission should make her feel. She thought perhaps angry, but that wasn’t the emotion that settled over her. She remained silent and waited.