A Wicked Way to Win an Earl (16 page)

She glanced at Major Lytton. “Perfectly competent, yes.”

The major, absorbed by his consommé, had drifted back into obliviousness.

“I'm riding out tomorrow morning to see one of the estate's tenants,” Alec said. “It means riding over a large section of the western grounds. I would be pleased to have your company.”

She blinked at him in surprise, but then an unguarded look of longing crossed her face. That strange, hollow feeling surged in his chest again, but he ruthlessly shoved it back. She'd set this game in motion, and she'd proved herself a worthy opponent. Now he was going to oblige her to play it, even if watching her face light with anticipation nearly stopped his breath, and even if he was suddenly appalled at the thought of coldly manipulating her.

“Will Robyn accompany us? Or your sisters?”

Alec's face went rigid at the mention of Robyn's name, and his attack of conscience evaporated. “Certainly. The entire party is welcome, though I doubt any of our friends will be in a state to rise early tomorrow morning for a hard ride.” He jerked his head toward the other end of the table.

She followed his glance. Eleanor was absorbed in a conversation with Archie and Robyn, helped along by liberal servings of wine. Charlotte and Lily had their heads together, giggling. It didn't look as if any of them intended to retire early.

“I must see my tenant tomorrow,” Alec said, “but if you're afraid to go alone with me, then you can wait for another opportunity to see the grounds with the rest of the party.” His tone insinuated it was unlikely another such opportunity would arise. Unless he missed his mark, he doubted Delia Somerset thought of herself as
afraid
of anything.

He shrugged as if her answer were of no consequence to him, but he watched her closely, surprised to find he was holding his breath.

“Afraid, my lord? Why would I be afraid of you?”

Alec's eyes dropped to her lips. He could think of any number of reasons, but a lie jumped easily out of his mouth. “No reason whatsoever, unless you're worried about propriety.” He emphasized the last word slightly, as if such a worry were absurdly prim.

“There can be no impropriety in a ride around the grounds, surely.”

Alec smiled grimly. She hadn't any idea how spiteful the
ton
could be. Before they even returned from their ride tomorrow, Delia would be at the center of a storm of malicious gossip. Lady Lisette and her mother, Lady Cecil, would be more than happy to stir up a scandal, especially after the
seating arrangements at dinner this evening. Delia would be on her way back to Surrey as early as the day after tomorrow.

Alec clenched his fists and tried to ignore the sharp stab of anguish he felt every time he imagined her exposed to the derision of the
ton
. It was better this way. It would hurt her to be sneered at, but in the end it was better for her, too. She and Lily didn't belong here.

“I imagine you're knowledgeable about the estate and the countryside, and I should be glad to learn something about them. You are a
competent
guide, my lord?”

“More than competent, I assure you, Miss Somerset.”

“Competent!” Major Lytton bellowed, catching only the last word of the conversation. “Oh yes, miss. Very competent. Carlisle knows his way about. You could not be in better hands, miss. No better hands than Carlisle's.”

“Thank you, Major.” Alec raised his glass to Miss Somerset. “Thank you very much indeed.”

At last the countess rose from the table and signaled the other ladies to retire. The endless dinner was over. Delia felt like an inmate at Newgate who'd been released into the sunshine after a prolonged incarceration. Odd, but as interminable as the dinner was, she didn't think she'd eaten much of anything.

There had been soup. Had she tasted it?

Alec must be mad to seat her at the head of the table. And Major Lytton! The poor major was likely even now wondering about the date of the fictional fox hunt this winter.

“Delia!” Lily caught up to her at the entrance to the drawing room, Ellie and Charlotte right behind her, and caught Delia's arm. “My goodness, Delia, however did you end up at the head of the table?”

“Next to Major Lytton, no less.” Charlotte gave Delia a sympathetic look. “The last time I was seated next to him, I was dyspeptic for a week. The shouting, you know.”

“It does quite put one off their appetite,” Eleanor said. “It's very tiresome of Alec to seat you so far away. What could he be thinking?”

Delia surveyed the four curious faces surrounding her and shrugged helplessly. She was as mystified as they were, but she was sure it hadn't been an accident. Perhaps it was the next step in a complicated seduction that involved kissing her in a garden, and then ignoring her for three days. For all she knew, that was how rakes seduced young ladies.

“Tiresome, to say the least,” Charlotte said. “At worst, it's a serious breach in etiquette. I overheard Lady Lisette . . .” She stopped speaking and darted a quick glance around them. “I overheard Lady Lisette and her mother talking,” she continued breathlessly, her voice lowered. The four heads surrounding her leaned closer. “They were quite angry to see Delia seated
alone
at the head of the table with Alec.”

“We weren't alone,” Delia protested. “Major Lytton—”

“Is as deaf as a teapot,” Eleanor interrupted. “You can't have failed to notice he hears only two words out of ten, Delia.”

“Well, no. I did notice. I was so startled at one point I nearly jumped out of my chair and into my soup.”

Charlotte tittered. “Yes, well, it would have been quieter in your soup dish. But now Lady Lisette and her mother are frothing and spitting like two wet cats.”

“Why should they be?” Lily asked. “Did one of them wish to sit next to Major Lytton and swim in their soup and become dyspeptic?” For the sake of economy, Lily threw it all together in one breath.

“Because Alec escorted Delia into dinner and then seated her at the head of the table when her rank demands she be seated further down,” Charlotte whispered. “He should have escorted Lady Lisette.”

Lily gave a dainty sniff. “Yes, of course that's so, but this
is a casual dinner with friends, is it not? It seems an awful fuss over nothing.”

“Lady Cecil and Lady Lisette are very concerned with propriety, especially when it comes to rank. Even more so when the young lady moved to the head of the table looks like Delia.” Charlotte snickered. “Well, that, and because they enjoy being enraged. They're both very good at righteous indignation.”

“They are,” Eleanor said. “It makes the prospect of their joining the family pleasant indeed.”

Charlotte shrugged. “In some ways it's a good match. In terms of fortune and social connection.”

Eleanor frowned. “But not in terms of temperament.”

Charlotte's face looked grim. “Do you think Alec cares about that?”

“He used to care about a great many things,” Eleanor said. “But I suppose if he's foolish enough to care only for fortune and the opinion of the
ton
, then he
deserves
to marry Lady Lisette and spend the rest of his life being driven mad by her, for that's what will happen.”

“Shhh! Mother is coming,” Charlotte hissed. “And, oh Lord, look what she's dragging in her wake.” Lady Carlisle had started across the room. Lady Cecil and her daughter followed, looking like two enraged ships battling choppy water in the channel.

“This is all very provoking!” Eleanor whispered. “I can't imagine what came over Alec tonight.”

There was no time to discuss it, because the countess and her two seething vessels had arrived in port. “Good evening, girls,” Lady Carlisle said with a smile. “Miss Somerset, Miss Lily, Lady Cecil wishes to have a word. She tells me she remembers your mother.”

Not with fondness, if one could judge by the sour expression on Lady Cecil's face. At one time Lady Cecil must have
been quite pretty, but her face had long since settled into lines of petulant dissatisfaction.

Delia dipped into a polite curtsy, and Lily did the same. Lady Cecil squinted at Delia for longer than was polite. She had small brown eyes set closely together, which unfortunately exaggerated the squint. She peered at Delia, and she peered at Lily, and then she peered at Delia again.

Finally, Lady Cecil returned the curtsy with a very brief one. Lady Lisette followed her mother's lead with a shallow curtsy of her own.

“Miss Somerset,” Lady Cecil said with icy politeness. “I do remember your mother, Lady Millicent Chase. Quite well, in fact. Indeed, I think everyone remembers
her
, though she hasn't shown her face in London for years.”

Delia stiffened. Beside her, Lily gasped. For one horrible moment Delia felt numb, her mind a blank, but then a cleansing anger flooded through her. “My mother found London tedious, my lady. She chose to spend as little time as possible among the
ton
. I believe she found the endless round of trivial social engagements tedious, as well.”

She found people like you tedious, Lady Cecil.

Lady Lisette tossed her head. “You don't seem to share your mother's opinion on that subject. My impression is you were quite captivated by the
ton
at dinner.” Underneath her saccharine tone her voice throbbed with venom.

“Yes, Delia,” Ellie drawled with mock censure. “You must stop monopolizing Major Lytton in that selfish way.”

Charlotte made a strangled sound, which she rapidly turned into a cough. She cleared her throat. “You can't blame Delia, Eleanor. Many young ladies become distracted when they dine with Major Lytton.”

Ellie turned away, as if to rearrange the skirts of her gown, but Delia saw her bite her lip, and her shoulders were shaking.

Lady Lisette scowled at Delia. “It was
not
Major Lytton who distracted Miss Somerset.”

Delia opened her mouth to reply when Lily spoke up. “Lady Carlisle,” she asked, ignoring Lady Lisette, “will there be any dancing this evening?”

“Perhaps there will be.” The countess smiled. “Most of the party here tonight hasn't yet seen the pleasure gardens, and I find I'm eager to show them off.”

“The gardens are lovely, Mama.” Eleanor squeezed her mother's hand.

Charlotte stepped forward and kissed Lady Carlisle's cheek. “They're beautiful, Mama. Thank you for them.”

The countess glowed with pleasure. “Rylands, please have the footmen remove the screens.” She laughed and clapped her hands together with anticipation as the servants began to move the screens to the side of the room.

Delia forgot all about Lady Lisette and her enraged mother and stared at Lady Carlisle. Her throat closed with emotion as she watched Lady Carlisle's face transform with pleasure.

She looks years younger when she smiles.

The ladies all gathered into an excited, chattering knot in the middle of the drawing room as the small army of footmen slid the screens aside. Every head was turned toward the glass doors, and a collective gasp went up as the last screen was removed.

There was a brief astonished silence, then a mighty rustle of silk as all the ladies moved
en masse
toward the terrace doors, jostling one another out of the way in their eagerness.

“Lovely!” one young lady exclaimed, looking as if she were about to swoon with excitement. “It looks like a miniature Vauxhall Gardens!”

“Come, ladies,” Charlotte said, observing the crush. She linked her arm with Lily's on one side and Ellie's on the
other. “We may be able to overpower the stampede if we all stay together.”

Eleanor took Delia's arm. “My goodness. Look at young Miss Entwistle! She seems to have forgotten herself entirely. Why, she almost trampled poor Mrs. Pennyworth under her heels. Perhaps she's anticipating a romantic interlude in the gardens. Though that seems rather unlikely, given the gentlemen are still at their brandy.”

“Shall we visit our pavilion, ladies?” Eleanor caught Lily's arm and headed toward the terrace doors.

Delia floated through the doors, drawn forward by Ellie and the gentle glow of light from the garden. Flickering lanterns glimmered overhead in the leaves and lined the pathways at her feet. She'd never seen fireflies, but she'd read about the tiny little insects that carried miniature lights on their bodies. This was what it must look like when thousands of them gathered together and their combined light set everything around them aglow.

She drifted along, not minding her direction. She made turn after turn, stopping here and there to admire an elegant arch or a display of flowers. At the end of the path in front of her she could see a pavilion decorated with lanterns and long swathes of white silk, caught at the corners with extravagant bunches of white flowers. She moved toward it until she found herself standing alone at the farthest end of the garden.

“Delia!” Lily called, but her voice was drowned out by the soft music that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, as if it rose from the air of the garden itself. The musicians were hidden among the shrubberies and behind pavilions and graceful groupings of statuary.

“You must see the Chinese pavilion at the end of this walk . . .” Lily's voice became fainter and fainter and then faded away as Delia melted into the light surrounding her.
Eleanor no longer held her arm. Lily and Charlotte had disappeared.

It was almost as if she'd never seen the garden before. It appeared more beautiful than ever tonight, perhaps because seeing Lady Carlisle's joy in it made it so. Her face—when the footmen drew the screens aside, and again when her daughters kissed her—Lady Carlisle's face had glowed as brightly as any light in the garden.

To Delia's dismay, tears blurred her eyes. They hadn't yet started to fall when she heard footsteps behind her. All of the fine hairs on the back of her neck rose in reaction, as if someone had laid a warm hand there.

She knew without turning it was Alec.

“Your mother . . .” she began, but her throat closed before she could continue. How could she explain to him how it felt to watch the years being erased from Lady Carlisle's face, or how affected she'd been at the depth of feeling between the countess and her daughters? “She's . . . Your sisters are attached to her. She seems very happy tonight,” she finished lamely.

“She hasn't always been so happy. She's an entirely different person, it seems, since . . .” Alec's voice trailed off.

He didn't mention his father. He didn't need to.

Delia's throat worked for a moment. “It must be wonderful to see her enjoy the happiness she deserves,” she said, her voice choked.

There was a pause. “Your mother,” he began, surprising her with the uncertainty in his voice. “You and your sisters were attached to her?”

She stiffened, as she always did at any mention of her parents. She was never sure she'd be able to speak of them, and her voice caught a little. “Yes. Very attached. To both our parents. We miss them terribly.”

“I envy you that.” There was a trace of bitterness in his voice. “I don't miss my father at all.”

She looked away from him, down toward the river. “To struggle to love someone, or to watch a beloved parent suffer for years in an unhappy marriage, would be as painful as losing them too soon, I think. My parents were so happy together. All our memories of them are joyful ones.”

Delia was horrified as soon as she heard her words hanging in the air between them. Her own mother could have been in Lady Carlisle's place, trapped in a loveless marriage with Hart Sutherland. “I didn't mean—”

“We haven't known each other long,” Alec said, his dark eyes softer than she'd ever seen them before. “But I know you're not cruel.”

He bowed then and began to turn away. She thought he'd leave her, but at the last moment he hesitated, took her hand, and raised it to his lips. “I'll see you in the foyer at six o'clock tomorrow morning.”

The kiss was utterly proper. Brief. His mouth merely grazed her glove. His hand did not touch her skin. But she felt the kiss in her chest, her stomach, and all the way down to her toes.