A Lady's Guide to Rakes (20 page)

It would have been easy enough to simply slip the Austrian pianist the mound of guineas promised for regaling the frosty tip of Mayfair Society with his famed—yet
dreadfully
dreary—sonatas. In fact, Meredith had even offered to pay the man herself.

However, for a reason known only to their two cotton-topped heads, the Featherton ladies had decided that the special musicale must commence as planned.

Meredith’s suspicions had begun to build earlier that evening as they supped on a roast of beef, pigeon pie and spring beans. Her aunts, who normally would have been chatting excitedly about the musicale, were unusually quiet. More was said with their darting eyes and averted gazes than with their words.

Having been unable to rouse her own appetite, Meredith had left the table and a plate of steaming food behind, preferring the solitude of her chamber. She had had her fill of half-formed sentences and giggles, and she’d left the dining room with naught but a bellyful of worries about the night to come.

And now, as she sat upon the top stair, watching her aunts scurry back and forth between the parlor and the music room, she was more sure than ever: the Feathertons had a plan.

“Meredith? Is that you sitting up there in the dark?”

Meredith glanced down to the figure beside the newel post at the bottom of the stairs.

There, Beth Augustine stood, her hand cupped to her brow to reduce the glare from the chandelier’s candles. “Why are you skulking around up there like a child? The music is about to begin. Come down and join us like a big girl.”

A couple who’d just handed off their wraps to the footman chuckled at Bern’s quip, and Meredith suddenly felt quite ridiculous. A rash, borne of nervousness, erupted on her chest, which, of course, would be immediately visible to her
dear
friend Beth.

“Are you coming down, Meredith?” Beth persisted. “Honestly, what are you doing up there?”

Meredith rose and, thinking quickly, tucked her notebook under her arm, then toyed with the brilliant dangling at her ear. “I dropped my earbob. Found it, though. See? Here ‘tis.”

She descended the stair treads; then, as she passed by the pointed gaze of Beth Augustine, she covertly pushed her book of notes to the back of the entryway table. It would be safely out of view of their guests there.

Glancing in the mirror, illuminated by matching sconces affixed to the wall on either side, Meredith appraised the flat smile she’d applied to her lips especially for Beth. Yes, she decided, her expression was just chilly enough to suffice.

“How is the babe, Mrs. Augustine?” Meredith peered at Beth’s eyes and shook her head. “It appears he is not giving you much sleep. Just look at those dark circles.”

It wasn’t much, but even that little jab felt… well, quite
good.

Beth grinned saucily. “Tisn’t the babe keeping me awake at night.” She smirked at Meredith. “Although, not being married, I don’t assume you would know of such things… or would you?”

Oh! Now that smarts. Especially tonight.
What had she been thinking? Meredith should have known better than to cross swords with a master.

“And now that we are on the subject, dear Meredith, when might I expect an invitation to your wedding to that merchant… Chillton, was it? Last we spoke, the engagement was but a breath away.”

Hurt, wreathed in anger, welled up inside Meredith. She sucked in three deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself, but it didn’t work. Nothing would. Too much had happened that day. She was going to explode.

“Do you really want to know, Beth? Well, I shall tell you—
never?
“ Something clenched in Meredith’s stomach. “Mr. Chillton did
not
offer for me, after all. So there you are. Are you completely satisfied, now that you have humiliated me in my own home?”

Beth slapped a hand to her chest and staggered back a step, though a hint of a pleased grin touched her lips momentarily. “Heavens, I was only asking. Of course, I meant no harm. My fondest wish is to see all my friends as happily married as I.”

Meredith stared with disbelief at Beth and began to feel all hot about her face.

What a grand liar Beth was.

She didn’t care a fig about anyone’s happiness but her own. Why, Meredith guessed, the only thing that could make Beth happier than she was this very moment would be to see Meredith’s cheeks wet with tears. Well, by golly, she wasn’t about to give the wench the satisfaction.

Then Meredith felt her bottom lip tremble.

Oh no.

Then the back of her eyes started to prickle.

Now her throat felt thick and a little raw.
No, no!
She would not cry.

“Now, if you will please excuse me, Mrs. Augustine, I promised my aunts I would see to”—Meredith’s gaze darted through the open doorway for anyone she recognized—”urn…”

“
There
you are, Miss Merriweather.”

The faint scent of French musk tickled her nose. Meredith looked up. Alarm shook her body as she realized that Alexander stood at her side and was smiling at her.

Smiling
. After she’d gone and ran off from Harford Fell, leaving him in a cloud of road dust.

“Alex—” she breathed. She peered into his eyes, searching them apprehensively. His gaze did not so much as hint at anger or at pain. His green eyes sparkled with adoration as he peered down at her.

The emotion that had pinched the back of her throat only moments ago began to fade away as she stood in Alexander’s reassuring presence.

Her knight had come to rescue her—again.

“I am sorry, my dear, but I was only able to find two seats together near the rear of the room. I hope you do not mind.” He reached out and gently took Meredith’s hand and laid it in the crook of his arm. “Though our position might be an advantage, for the music room is already quite warm, and we’ll be much nearer to the doors… should we wish to take the air.”

Meredith felt a tug at her sleeve and she turned belatedly to find herself pinned beneath Beth’s annoyed gaze.

“Are you not going to introduce me formally to your gentleman friend, Miss Merriweather?” She moved before Alexander and bequeathed him a grand smile; then she dropped a curtsy. “I know you, my lord, by reputation, of course, though we have never been introduced.”

“Oh… Lord Lansing, may I present Mrs. Augustine—a neighbor.”

“Oh, much more than that,” Beth added. “You needn’t be shy. You see, Lord Lansing, Miss Merriweather and I are bosom friends from Miss Belbury’s School for Girls.”

Meredith coughed to cover her gasp of disbelief.
Oh yes, just the best of friends.

“Madam.” Alexander, being ever astute, glanced briefly in Beth’s direction and tipped his head slightly to her. “Augustine. Hmm. Don’t know any Augustines, I’m afraid.”

Beth actually blanched, and for a moment, Meredith thought she might fall right off the heels of her shoes.

Ha! That put “Mrs. High and Mighty” in her place. Meredith couldn’t leave it at that, however.

“Mrs. Augustine, my family just returned from visiting his father, the earl, at Harford Fell. Do you know it?”

“Do I know it? Why, what a question! I have connections, y-you know,” Beth sputtered. A sardonic gleam came into her eye. “So you, Lord Lansing, are truly a friend of the
Featherton sisters.
“ She looked at Meredith smugly.

“Indeed. I met them through my dearest, here.” Alexander looked back at Meredith and flashed a most charming smile. “Shall we go inside?”

“Absolutely.” As they began to walk away, Meredith could not resist a parting glance back at Beth, who appeared suitably gobsmacked.

Ha-ha!
A little swoop of elation rifted Meredith’s spirits.

“Lord Lansing,” Meredith said softly, “I am forever in your debt.” She gazed into his eyes, expecting, now that they were no longer in Beth’s company, to see a hint of pain or even anger. But only amusement flickered in his green eyes. Nothing more. If only she could feel at ease with him once more—but too much had passed between them in recent days for her to relax.

“Really?
Forever?
“ he replied. “Being the wretched rake that I am, I shall have to think of a positively wicked way for you to repay such a great debt.” His dark slash of an eyebrow flicked up playfully.

“No doubt you will think of something.” Meredith gave a nervous grin back to him.

Somehow, every horrid thing that had befallen her today had been whisked from her memory, the very moment Alexander came to her side.

Meredith had to admit, the man’s timing was perfect. She supposed that timing was an important skill for any rake to possess. Yes, she could see how it could remove a man from all sorts of strife.

As they passed her Aunt Letitia, who was standing by the glass door to the music room, Meredith leaned close. “If Lansing’s appearance here tonight is your scheme, I thank you, Auntie.”

A tiny smile twitched at her aunt’s lips. “I am sure I don’t know what you mean, but if you are happy, dove, then so am I.”

———

As the pianist’s fingers massaged the ivory keys, releasing his melody into the still air, Meredith’s knee bounced nervously in approximate time with the music. And yet, when the music ceased and the pianist turned to accept claps of appreciation from the audience of twenty-four Londoners, her knee danced onward.

Without looking away from the pianist, Alexander reached out and lifted Meredith’s hand, then placed it firmly atop her agitated knee, patting it twice.

Alexander obviously was aware that she was not at ease with his sudden appearance at the musicale, but she was grateful. Very grateful, for he had put a quick end to Beth Augustine’s intent to humiliate.

Now what? How could she even pretend to be enjoying the music with Alexander sitting so close to her? It was impossible to put aside the fact that just two nights past they were lying naked together, in each other’s arms, their bodies merged and moist with exertion.

The rash on her chest began to itch, and Meredith looked down to see that the earlier wash of pink rising out of her bodice now resembled a trim of crimson lace. And there was no way to conceal her outward display of anxiety, for she had been so angered by Chillton’s rejection of her that she’d given every fichu she owned to Annie and bade her to donate them to the poor that very afternoon.

Stupid that. Should have kept at least one, for instances just like this.

Meredith flipped open her cutwork fan and waved it over her chest, hoping the cool air would reduce the flaming color of the tiny bumps strewn across the upper slope of her bosom.

“Shall we slip outside in the courtyard for some air?” Alexander whispered to her. “If we are quiet, no one will even notice we’ve gone.”

Meredith thought to decline the offer, but the back of her neck was sprinkled with tiny beads of perspiration. Her chest now felt as though it were covered with pinching ants. “For a moment or two. That’s all.”

Alexander nodded, then took her hand back into his; then they both, stooped at the waist, sneaked out of the music room into the passage, then through the French windows at the back of the house.

Meredith sucked in a gulp of cool evening air as they poured into the courtyard. “Lord above, I thought I would suffocate if we stayed in the room a moment longer.”

“ ‘Twas a tad warm.”

“And crowded too. What could my aunts have been thinking to invite so many to squeeze into such a small glassed-in room?” Meredith walked across the brick pavers and collapsed upon the iron bench beneath the old oak tree.

“Perhaps they were thinking that they had something to celebrate.” Alexander came and stood directly before Meredith.

She could not look at him, though she knew it was rude not to. “I wasn’t sure if you overheard that part of my discussion with Mrs. Augustine.”

“I am sorry, Meredith.” Alexander pivoted slightly and rested his weight on the bench beside her.

She turned her head and peered up at him then. “You are sorry? I thought you would be pleased to learn that Mr. Chillton did not offer for me.”

“Oh, I am. I am.” She had expected him to hoist one of those cocky grins of his, but he didn’t. “I am only sorry that he hurt you—that he broke your heart.”

“Oh.” Meredith looked down at her lap, where the fingers of both her hands were twisting like warring spiders.

She didn’t dare tell him that Chillton hadn’t broken her heart.

Feeling no pain over this blow was odd, she knew. And it surprised her. She had set her cap for Chillton and everyone knew it. She’d devoted herself entirely to becoming his wife. And when he did not ask for her hand, though by all indications she’d believed he would, she felt naught but… humiliation. Embarrassment.

His rejection did not drive her to her knees as Lord Pomeroy’s had when he left her standing at the altar. It did not send her, quivering and sobbing, into her chamber.

She felt no shame, as she had when the rake had all but destroyed her years ago.

In fact, Meredith realized quite suddenly, Chillton’s rejection had not touched her heart at all. It just left her cold, not knowing what she would do now that she’d failed at the task she set for herself more than a year ago.

No, she’d not admit any of this to Alexander. She didn’t wish for him to see her as heartless—which she certainly must be, for she didn’t shed one tear over her loss. Not one!

“Put the bastard out of your mind, as you should have done long ago.”

Meredith’s head shot up. “I—I beg your pardon.”

Alexander slipped off his gloves and touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. “You never loved him.”

“Lord Lansing, you overstep.” Meredith’s words held no conviction. Even she could hear that.

“You love me.” Alexander leaned close, and she knew he meant to kiss her.

She let his lips touch hers. Softly, briefly, before she turned her face away. “Sir, you have gall. I give you that.”

“You know you love me. I see it in your eyes. Feel it in your kisses, in the way your body responded to mine at Harford Fell.”

Meredith hurried to her feet, but Alexander caught her hand and pulled her to his lap. She did not struggle against him, though she knew she should.