Artful Deceptions (17 page)

Arianne’s feelings were so confused that she couldn’t have explained them to anyone else in any event. In her secret dreams alone at night in her room, she had dared to create marvelous fantasies of a romantic suitor appearing on the doorstep and carrying her away, but her practical nature had known these were no more than dreams. Impoverished gentility did not find places among the
haut ton,
as romantic novels would lead one to believe.

Nor was there much likelihood of finding a romantic suitor among the prosaic merchants of London, even if she had any connection among them, which she didn’t. The fact that Rhys had taken his time to say farewell to her did not mean anything, and Arianne was wise enough to believe he felt she was in the same position as he, therefore they might suit. There was nothing romantic about two such practical natures agreeing to go through life together, should it come to that.

That she and Rhys might come to some agreement had seemed dream enough to Arianne. She had feared to go through life a lonely spinster, caring for her brothers and living as an outsider in their families as they grew older and married. Rhys had provided food for dreams enough. He was an intelligent, ambitious man, and she would work diligently by his side to help him achieve what he had been denied. Love would undoubtedly follow, if such an emotion existed.

But to suddenly find Lord Locke riding beside the carriage, occasionally leaning in to see how she fared, solicitously leading her into roadside inns and seeing that she had the best tables, the finest rooms—that was a dream she was incapable of comprehending.

There had been little time to have a serious discussion with him. Events had moved much too swiftly. But surely he must know the degree to which he was obligating himself in making this incredible proposal; On the face of it, it was incredibly romantic to be swept off her feet by a wealthy, handsome nobleman, but underneath the image they painted for others was the knowledge that neither of them knew anything about the other, and certainly never shared their most intimate emotions.

So Arianne was forced to accept Galen’s generous attentions and wait for the moment when she could interrogate him on how he planned to extricate them from this delicate situation. Perhaps his parents were so high in the instep that they would forbid the marriage. Perhaps he was hoping to make Melanie jealous enough to declare her love. And barring either of those events, perhaps he thought settling for Melanie’s cousin was second best.

It was the latter that kept her most worried. She didn’t wish to be Melanie’s replacement. She didn’t wish to spend a lifetime with a husband who wistfully followed her cousin’s every movement. But if his offer were genuine, how could she possibly turn down something that would mean so much to her family and give her the chance for a life she would never have otherwise known?

The idea of actually marrying Lord Locke and living in his home and bearing his children was too far beyond the realms of what Arianne knew to even consider. He was charming and handsome, but he was also idle and inclined to boredom. In the world that Arianne knew, there was too much to do to be bored. They had no common ground whatsoever. It would be much better should Rhys return to rescue her from this situation.

When they finally arrived at the immense rambling manor house that Galen called home, Arianne had grown numb to the game they played. She sat in stunned silence as the rows of trees along the splendid drive unfolded to reveal the golden stones and hundreds of sparkling windows of a place so large it could have neatly housed an entire London block. The manor was too unreal to figure any more seriously in her mind than anything else that had occurred these last days.

So when Galen gallantly tucked her arm inside his and led her up the wide stone steps to the towering front doors, Arianne merely tried to picture which character in Shakespeare’s plays she most resembled. She favored the farces, but the situation did not quite suit any of the plays she knew. They were creating a new one, writing it as they acted it out. None of this had anything to do with reality.

They were obviously expected, much to Arianne’s relief. The butler and head housekeeper appeared like royalty to preside over the dissemination of passengers and luggage, directing an army of maids and footmen to the upper portions of the house, and in the case of the dogs and cats, to the stables.

Arianne was separated from the remainder of her family and ensconced in a room—a virtual palace—of her own, which she vehemently rejected in favor of sharing a more modest boudoir with Melanie. The housekeeper looked suitably enraged, but Arianne had no intention of succumbing to awe. Let them call her common, for she was. She simply did not intend to spend her time isolated in grandeur.

Melanie welcomed the suggestion, but earned the housekeeper’s disfavor even more when she insisted that she would share her maid with her cousin rather than introducing one of the earl’s servants to the position. Since Melanie was granddaughter of an earl and sister to a viscount, the housekeeper couldn’t make mutterings that “ladies certainly knew better,” and, frustrated, the servant carried her indignation out of the room with her. Melanie and Arianne broke into laughter behind her as the door closed.

The laughter helped. Surrounded by a room larger than half the first floor of the Richards’ house, expected to lie in a bed with opulent draperies that might have graced queens, talking
in
hushed whispers for fear the foolishness of her conversation would be overheard by silent servants swooping in and out with baths and water and luggage, Arianne needed to cling to some sense of the humor of the situation. She had all of four decent gowns to wear interchangeably over the coming weeks. She really could not pretend she was anything but what she was.

After changing and resting from the journey, Galen sent a message asking if they would care to walk through the gardens before it was time to prepare for dinner. Perhaps with the intention of leaving the lovebirds alone, Melanie declared she wanted nothing more strenuous than a trip to the library, but she gaily accompanied Arianne downstairs to hand her over to Galen. Glaring darkly after her cousin for this defection, Arianne accepted Locke’s hand and allowed him to escort her toward the terrace.

“Does your room suit?” he inquired politely as he held open the glass door opening out onto the terrace, and from there, the gardens.

“Were I Princess Charlotte, perhaps. I would not dare sleep in such a bed myself. Rather than sleep on the floor, I asked to be put in with Melanie.”

Galen gave her a sharp look from beneath lifted eyebrows. “Do I detect a hint of irony?” He found the hidden laughter in her eyes. “You can be quite impossible, you realize. How am I to know when you are laughing and when you are being critical?”

“You seem to do very well,” Arianne admitted, not at all certain that she liked the idea of him knowing her so well. “I had thought I would be at my most annoying, to put you off this ridiculous betrothal forever.”

Galen gave a bark of laughter and pulled her around to face him. His hands held her elbows firmly so she could not break away.
He could read consternation on her wide brow, but dancing lights of mischief hid somewhere in the depth of her indigo eyes. There would be time to discover what made them dance openly. “I had chosen that suite just for you. It seems there is much I have to learn. Should I have chosen the monk’s cell?”

No wonder the housekeeper had sniffed with disapproval. An intended bride should not reject her suitor’s offering so openly. A smile slipped across Arianne’s lips as she imagined the woman’s consternation. “My first day here, and I have already offended you and the estimable staff. My apologies, sir. And no, a monk’s cell is not necessary. I am quite content as I am.”

“Why do I have the lowering feeling there is more behind those words than your satisfaction with your room?” Galen released her so they might continue walking more sedately down the path.

“Perhaps because you are finally listening to the voice of reason I know you must conceal in your head. I don’t know why you have manipulated this mad affair, but surely you must be beginning to realize how it looks to the rest of the world.”

Galen dipped his head to gaze upon her with amusement. “And how must it look? That I have been far beyond impetuous and rash this time? Is that how it appears to you?”

“Quite frankly, yes. You are a baron. You are heir to all this.” Arianne swung her hand to encompass the magnificent house and grounds. “You are handsome and witty and all that any lady might wish. You could have your choice of wives. There is no sane reason to declare yourself to someone who cannot offer you anything in return, other than your apparent determination to have your own way in the matter of my mother’s health.”

Galen caught his lips from turning upward and forced himself to look away from her stern expression. “Handsome? Surely not. I do not have the dark good looks that make the ladies swoon. All I have is this deuced amusing face no one takes seriously. And you must admit that I am awkwardly large. I am forever dancing on the ladies’ dresses, although why they insist on wearing them to dust the floor is beyond my comprehension.”

Arianne gave him a look of frustration. “That is not to the point. They say looks are in the eye of the beholder, anyway. If the matter worries you, then let us say no one will call you hard to look upon. The point is that you can do far better than a penniless spinster. So this elaborate charade is merely a devious and very dangerous scheme to bring my mother here. I could very well hold you to your offer; then what would you do?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Marry you, of course. Is that not what I asked you to do? If I have all to offer that you say, it cannot be a horrible fate, can it?”

Clenching her fists with exasperation, Arianne swung around to confront him. “Will you stop that? I am trying to be practical. You must know how this looks. I cannot even come down to dinner without shaming you for my lack of wardrobe. Your parents will think you are being blackmailed or worse to lower yourself to such an unsuitable choice. Do you have some mad notion that they will attempt to buy me off? That’s it, isn’t it? You mean to make up the loss of my painting by having your parents pay to rid you of me. Perhaps there will be some folderol with the Titian too, bringing twice its worth or some such nonsense. I cannot like it, Galen. We are not some amusing charity to be played with like cards.”

Irritation twitched briefly across Locke’s face, then was gone as he offered the languid smile for which he was famous. “Ahh, I have persuaded you at last that I have a name. We are making progress. What will it take to convince you that my offer is serious? Do you really think me so low in character as to play with your feelings?”

“That is just the point,” Arianne replied triumphantly. “I do not know you well enough to know what you would do. How can one make a decision so enormous as the one to marry when we do not even know each other?”

“But that is why we are here, my dear, to learn to know each other. I have become certain you are the part of me that has been missing, and I mean to convince you of the same. You will temper my rashness, balance my lack of responsibility, and be the anchor to keep me from dashing myself on the rocks. I have thought on what Melanie said, and she is quite right. We are much too alike to suit.”

Arianne surrendered the senseless argument. He was not about to admit his true reason for creating this elaborate charade. “Melanie is a romantic. She is looking for true love. I am surprised, if you are so much alike, that you do not do the same.”

Galen frowned thoughtfully as he turned her to continue their walk. “I rather thought respect and friendship would lead to what the world calls love.”

“Perhaps so, but I cannot help but look on what my mother and father have and wonder if there is not some deeper binding. They cannot be more unalike, yet they understand each other very well, and the affection between them is so deep that the other can do no wrong, no matter how wrong they might be in truth.”

“That sounds more like an affliction than a blessing,” Galen answered crossly. “Should I be so blind as to think your stubbornness is charming, you have my permission to kick me back to my senses.”

Arianne’s peal of laughter startled him, and Galen began to grin at the infectiousness of the sound. Before it occurred to him that this would be the perfect time to steal that kiss he had promised himself, a screech from down the path interrupted, and a hairy body hurtling between their legs prevented further pursuit of romantic notions.

“Puddles!” Arianne identified the culprit at once, then swung to watch Davie flying down the path toward them. “What on earth is going on?” she cried as her brother attempted to cross the rose garden to intercept the dog.

Galen gave a sharp whistle, bringing the racing animal to a halt to investigate the sound. While Arianne extricated her brother from the roses, the mischievous dog sniffed the air and came trotting to better examine the shiny black boots with the interesting scent. Before the animal could leap to leave scratchy reminders of her exuberance on the leather, Galen caught her leash and picked her up.

“Thank you, m’lord,” Davie breathed in relief as he shook off his sister’s restraining hand and reached for the unrepentant animal. “She ain’t never been in the country before.”

“And neither have you, I would say.” Galen eyed the boy’s crumpled coat, calculating it was his best one. “I don’t recommend coats in the rose garden. Mothers tend to faint at the thought. Deliver Puddles back to the stables and run up to your room. I’ll meet you there shortly and we’ll see if we can’t find something more suitable for you to wear. I’m quite certain nothing in this house has ever been thrown out, so there’s bound to be some of my old togs hereabouts.”

Davie grinned in understanding and ran off with the dog in tow. Arianne shook her head, but whether in exasperation with little brothers or in wonder at the idle lord’s instant reparation of the situation, she couldn’t say. When she lifted her gaze to his, Galen grinned unabashedly.