A Season for Love (5 page)

“Of course, we will send our carpenters to help rebuild the kitchen,” the duke said to her uncle. “It should not take more than a few days.”

“I appreciate that,” Newberry replied, “especially since we will be getting ready to leave for Town in another three weeks. I would like to have it finished.”

“I will oversee the men, with your permission,” Darian said.

Both men nodded their approval. “Most appropriate,” the duke answered.

“And it will give you some time to reacquaint yourself with our neighbors,” the duchess added and smiled at Isabella.

Elizabeth felt like she’d swallowed a sharp-pronged fork along with the compote of cherries and clotted cream that had been placed in front of her. The duchess’ intention was quite clear, even though she was too polite to state it. Darian’s supervision of the work would also allow him and Isabella more time to spend together in a perfectly proper situation. It would be torture to see Darian every day and have to watch him court Isabella.

“Will you be assisting, Edward?” Isabella’s violet eyes looked guileless.

He gave Isabella a slow, lazy smile. “Rest assured. In every way possible.”

Isabella blushed slightly and let her lashes sweep her cheeks. “With two such strong men, it should take hardly any time at all then.”
             
   

Elizabeth frowned slightly. Was Isabella flirting with Edward under her almost-betrothed’s nose? Elizabeth glanced across the table to find Darian’s blue gaze riveted on herself. While his face was expressionless, his eyes darkened as they met hers and Elizabeth felt her face heat. Quickly, she looked down.

How in the world was she going to handle the next few days?

* * * *

“Shall we retire to the card room for a game of whist?” Darian asked as the dessert dishes were cleared away.

Edward lifted a brow. “No brandy and cigars first? How decidedly un-English.”

“One of the things I like about the country,” Darian replied, “is that we do not have to observe every little nuance of society. Perhaps the ladies would not mind your having a brandy while they sip sherry.”

They made their way to the card room and, as Darian was pouring the drinks, Isabella piped up. “I think I will have a brandy too. I have never tried any.”

Darian frowned, but Edward grinned. “I like a woman who is not afraid to experiment.”

Isabella smiled at him. “After all, it is the country. I trust my little indiscretion will not be rumored around?”

“Your secret is safe with us,” Edward answered.

Darian handed each of them a snifter. “Miss Townsend? What will be your pleasure?”

Her pleasure would be to call for the carriage and go home. The less she saw of Darian, the better it would be. She needed to persuade her foolish heart not to fall in love with a man she couldn’t have.

“Go on and try the brandy.” Isabella took a sip. “You are always so prim and proper.”

Her thoughts were
not
prim and proper. If only they knew. Elizabeth’s cheeks grew warm. She lifted her chin. “Brandy then.”

Darian frowned again, but he splashed some in the glass and swirled it before handing it to her. Her nose tickled as the pungent fumes wafted upward and she almost sneezed. Isabella eyed her over the rim of her snifter. Elizabeth tried not to inhale and took a swallow. And nearly choked. Gasping, she tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come. Her eyes watered. Isabella laughed.

How embarrassing. Elizabeth swallowed several times to subdue the coughing fit even as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. Lord, now she would have a puffy face and red nose. How could anyone drink that horrible stuff?

Darian removed the snifter and replaced it with a linen handkerchief. His hand covered hers and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “It will pass in a moment.”

She shook her head, keeping her eyes down as she dabbed at her nose and face. No doubt he and Edward thought it humorous too. Silly Elizabeth. Couldn’t even take a sip of brandy. She forced herself to look up. Edward was trying not to smile, but Darian’s face was serious.

“I am sorry. I should have warned you,” he said.

“It is all right,” she finally managed to say and looked at Isabella who had nearly finished her drink. How could she do that? Elizabeth sat up straighter. “Shall we play cards then?”

Isabella held out her glass. “I believe I will have another brandy.”

Edward grinned. “I shall get it for you.”

As they moved to the table, Isabella seated herself across from Edward, thereby making Elizabeth partner with Darian. She looked askance of him, but he just smiled.

“Are you ready to win, Miss Townsend?”

More than ready. “Yes. I love whist,” she said.
             

“Well, it isn’t faro,” Isabella interjected, “but, in the country, it will have to do.”

“What do you know of faro?” Darian handed the deck for Edward to shuffle and then placed the cards in front of Isabella to cut. “Has it found its way into ladies’ parlors while I have been gone?”

Isabella took a sip of brandy and smiled coquettishly. “I stumbled upon some gentlem
e
n at a house party once. It seemed such an exciting game.”

“Games of chance always are,” Edward replied with a grin. “Perhaps once we are back in Town, a private game could be arranged.”

“Oooh! I would like that.” Isabella started to clap her hands, nearly spilling the brandy. She looked at the glass as though wondering where it had come from. She set down the snifter.

Darian dealt the cards silently and turned the final card face up—the Queen of Diamonds. “Diamonds trump,” he said and turned to Edward. “Your trick.”

Elizabeth glanced at her cards, careful not to show emotion. She had the King of Diamonds as well as several lower numbers. The king would assure at least one trick. Who had the ace?

Edward put down the Eight of Spades. Darian countered with a nine and Isabella trumped it with the Ten of Diamonds. Elizabeth glanced at her. Foolish girl to use such a high trump. Was she foxed? She glanced down at her hand again. She certainly didn’t want to waste her king and she wasn’t about to throw away her Jack of Spades since the trump was out there. She placed the Two of Spades down.

“We won!” Isabella scooped up the cards.

Darian glanced over at Elizabeth, a tiny, almost indiscernible lift at one corner of his mouth. She wondered if he had guessed that she’d given away the trick.

Isabella giggled and put out the new card and the next trick was won by Darian. So it went for several more, Elizabeth winning three, Darian another one and Edward two. By the time they got to the thirteenth trick, Isabella was yawning.

“I am thoroughly bored,” she said.

“But the score is eight to four,” Elizabeth said. “We cannot quit until one of has five points over the minimum.”

Isabella yawned again, almost forgetting to cover her mouth with her fan. “Whist is boring. I cannot wait to get to Town where there will be fun and excitement.”

“I am looking forward to Town myself,” Edward said. “Italy had its entertainments, but nothing like London.”

“And you, Miss Townsend?” Darian asked. “Are you looking forward to the Season also?”

“I have never had a Season,” Elizabeth replied, “but I am not overly fond of the soot and noise and smell of most of London.”

Isabella blinked at her. “Mayfair does not smell. Nor does Hyde Park. Good gracious, what kind of a life did you lead there?”

Elizabeth could have bitten her tongue. Of course, Isabella wouldn’t have encountered the less than desirable parts of London. She had no idea of how the laboring classes lived or how women and children toiled twelve hour days for a mere pittance that barely put food on their tables. Elizabeth wouldn’t have known either, except that her papa insisted in ministering to the poor and Mama volunteered at the hospital. Papa always said practicing charity was good for the soul
.

She was spared an answer by the butler appearing in the doorway, announcing that the carriage was ready to take them home. She didn’t think she’d ever been so grateful for an interruption.

As Darian and Edward escorted them outside, she tried to avoid looking at either one of them. She might just as well have announced to all-and-sundry that she was nothing but a poor relation and a charitable cause herself.

Darian helped Isabella into the carriage and then held out his hand to Elizabeth. As she placed her hand in his, his strong, warm fingers closed over hers and he leaned close, his breath caressing her ear.

“London stinks,” he said.

Chapter Six

By mid-morning, wagons began to arrive carrying freshly cut lumber from the forest between Stafford and Newberry. From the burnt-out wall of the dining hall, Elizabeth watched as Darian swung down from the magnificent Andalusian he’d purchased from her uncle. His thigh muscles rippled beneath snug breeches and the simple linen shirt he wore detailed his broad, strong shoulders, making him look every bit as powerful as the full-chested stallion beside him. The horse’s sleek, blue-black coat reflected the raven color of Darian’s hair in the sunlight. Edward joined him and her uncle met them in the yard, Andy by his side. The young man was determined the earl would find no slack with him in repairing the kitchen.

Anna, too, had put in extra effort, whitewashing the sooted walls of the dining hall until almost all hint of smoke was gone. Elizabeth smiled at the maid vigorously polishing the brass kettles and moved to help her.

“The fireplace is still standing, since it was made of stone,” the earl said as he
,
Darian, and Edward came closer to inspect what was left.

“The cupboard seems to have been saved.” Darian opened the iron door to the small area fitted into the side of the hearth meant for keeping things warm. “We should be able to have the wall built around the hearth by the end of the day.” He motioned for the men to start bringing in the lumber.

Elizabeth watched in fascination as Darian lifted planks with apparent ease and swung the hammer with agility and strength enough to drive a nail through the lumber with one powerful stroke. The slight sweat that glistened on his brow also dampened his shirt and caused it to cling to biceps nearly as large as a smith’s. She should find something to do. It was better not to watch Darian. Isabella had no such compunction, Elizabeth noticed, but then why should she? It was her intended out there working. Isabella had every right to watch his strong, masculine body move. Edward, working beside Darian, was equally well-formed. Elizabeth squinted. Isabella seemed to be enjoying watching
both
of them.

Edward looked up just then and grinned, flexing his muscles and giving his hammer an extra-powerful swing. Isabella smiled. Elizabeth decided to retreat into the deeper recesses of the house. It wouldn’t do to have Darian see her gawking at him like a street strumpet.

As she passed Anna setting the last of the kettles down, the maid dipped a curtsey and looked hesitant.

“Did you wish to ask something?” Elizabeth asked.

“We have lost most of our food stores,” Anna replied, “but there be some lemons that was left in the cellar. Do you suppose his lordship would mind if I made some lemonade a little later for the men?”

“I do not think he would mind at all. That is a wonderful idea.”

“And could I use some ice too? There be a bit left.”

“Of course.” Elizabeth smiled as she turned away. No doubt, Anna wanted to make herself useful, but the fact that her Andy was working side-by-side with the earl
and
the Marquess of Bingington, as well as Lord Armstrong, was probably too great a temptation to resist. She would want to impress all of them.

Elizabeth was curled in a chair in the parlor, immersed in reading a recently published novel entitled
Pride and Prejudice,
when Julianna popped her head around the corner of the door. “Her Grace has sent servants down with the noon repast,” she said. “Mother said to come find you.”

Elizabeth closed the book reluctantly, thinking how much she identified with both Jane Austen, who’d lived in a rectory, and the heroine of the novel, Elizabeth Bennett, who lost her father as well. Even their names were the same. In the novel’s case, however, Miss Bennett had possible suitors in Bingley and Darcy. There was no possible suit with Darian. Perhaps she should plead a headache and stay in her room. Elizabeth sighed. She could hardly plead a headache every day they’d be working on the repairs. And there were the evening dinners to be faced. She would just have to be strong until after the Season and then find a job as a governess somewhere, away from Stafford and Newberry.

Isabella was pouring lemonade when Elizabeth walked into the yard and toward the makeshift plank table in the shade of a large oak.

“Excellent lemonade,” Edward said as he took several sips. “Tart and sweet. Just the way I like things.”