Dare to Kiss (8 page)

It did feel too good to be true, but it wasn't. She was establishing herself here. The starchiest local people were thawing, probably because they saw how happy Ben was, but also because she made sure she and her children were modestly impeccable.

The servants were content, and even John was coming round a little.

Her children were thriving, blossoming as never before. Michael in particular was doing so well, gradually shedding his precocious responsibility, but maturing in other ways in the company of a caring man.

After Christmas they'd have to consider a tutor or school, but for now he had all he needed. After Christmas she'd sleep with Ben, but for now she still shared a bed with her daughters, and she'd miss that, just a little, when it ended.

Disaster arrived the next day.

Chapter Six

A knock at the front door was unusual, so Lily came out of the drawing room, which she'd been cleaning with the maids. She looked over the banisters and saw a cloaked man enter.

"Good day, John. My cousin at home?"

"Yes, sir. In the library."

The visitor shed his cloak and other outer clothing. "A fire in the hall? What's the world coming to?"

"Changes, sir," John said, but to the visitor's back. He was striding without hesitation to the library door. He opened it without a knock. "Ben, changes? Tell me all!"

Lily retreated, but not to the drawing room.

Cousin? She hadn't inquired about Ben's family tree. Perhaps she should have. The visitor was in riding clothes, but everything about his voice and manner was familiar to her -- it spoke of court and Town, of the glittering sphere she'd once known, if only from the edges.

She wished she could hide, but Ben would be bound to summon her down to meet his relative.

She hurried to the bedchamber and looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't know that man, so they might never have met. On the other hand, Tom had moved in fashionable circles and sometimes brought cronies home.

Then there was the trial. The beau monde had crammed in to enjoy the scandal. What would they remember? She'd dressed soberly, but not as soberly as she dressed now.

For cleaning, she was wearing her oldest, plainest gown, which was good. Her apron was plain and functional, not the delicate, lace-trimmed sort worn as ornament. She exchanged her small cap for a larger mob cap that covered nearly all her hair.

But her face, her face.

She wished for paint now in order to dull her cheeks and lips.

A knock. Becky came in. "Sir Benjamin asks if you can go downstairs, ma'am. Mr. Perriam's here."

"Mr. Perriam? Who is he?"

"Sir Benjamin's cousin, ma'am," Becky said with bright eyes. "A cousin a few steps off, if you know what I mean, ma'am. Mr. Perry's the son of an earl, he is, and such a one! Nothing bad about him, ma'am, but always one for fun and flirting."

Perry Perriam!

Lily turned back to the mirror to hide her expression. He was the sort of Town man that everyone knew about. A leader of fashion, an intimate of the great, known for elegance, grace, and charm. A memory stirred of someone saying, "Too clever for his own good." She shrugged that away. It could mean anything, and she remembered him being famous only for the cut of his coats, his elegant bows, and his witty bon-mots.

He was a social butterfly, and though they had been at the same events at times, it had been in company with hundreds. He’d never have noticed her existence.

But had he attended the trial?

That would be disaster, but she could do nothing about it, except to hope that Perriam would never connect sober Mistress Gifford with Lillias Dellaby.

"Thank you, Becky. I'll be right down."

After fussing over her appearance for a few more minutes, she braced herself and went downstairs, repeating all the reasons Perry Perriam shouldn't recognize her. When she entered the library, however, she saw that he instantly did. It was only by a sharp, intent look, but it was clear.

Almost, she fled, but perhaps calmness would make him doubt himself?

Ben introduced his cousin, and she dipped a curtsy. "An honor to meet you, Mr. Perriam."

"Mistress Gifford is my guest, Perry, but you'll have guessed that she's something more. Shortly to make me the happiest man on earth."

Perriam's brows rose, but his smile indicated only delight.

He was a courtier. His smiles could mean anything.

He bowed. "What delightful news, ma'am. I look forward to learning all about you."

Nothing in his manner -- nothing -- gave that a razor edge, but it cut anyway.

Don't spoil this, don't.

Can't you see how happy Ben is?

She turned to Ben. "What a pleasure for you to have your cousin here, my dear. I'll leave you two alone."

"No, no. Sit, love, and help me tell your tale. I was quite the hero, you know, Perry, if it can be called heroic to take a family up into a carriage."

Ben moved a chair close to the other two, and Perriam deftly took it, leaving the two principal chairs to Lily and Ben. Too clever for his own good. Or anyone else's.

Lily's heart was pounding, and she was sure she was pale, but she could only do her best.

"You were a true hero to me, sir, for I fear at least one of my children would have perished on that icy night."

"Lily has five children," Ben said, as proud as if he'd sired them himself. "All clever."

Lily found a laugh. "That's doing it too brown, my dear. Susie will never become a philosopher, and I predict Tommy will always be more fond of action than books."

"An excellent throwing arm for a lad," Ben said.

"As he showed by almost hitting the glass house from the rose garden." She turned to Perriam. "But we must not bore you with such talk."

"Not at all, ma'am. It is quite fascinating."

His amiable face could have been a mask, for all she could read from it.

Did he not see how beneficial the children were to Ben? Could he not see how innocent they were?

Ben said, "The eldest lad, Michael, seems likely to go far. Can already converse tolerably in Latin, and what's more, he enjoys it, which I never did."

Lily glanced around the library. "Surely you jest, sir."

"Ah, but books about subjects that interest me are a different matter to Greek and Latin texts about wars and civic duty."

"Then you must not let Michael bore you."

"He never does. His enthusiasm for learning is enough." He turned to Perriam. "Plays a devilishly good game of chess as well."

"Perhaps learned from his mother?" Perriam said, looking at her.

She could chuckle in genuine amusement. "I've never touched a set. He was taught by a tutor at his school."

"I warrant he gets his devious skills from you, ma'am, all the same."

"Devious?" Ben objected.

"Chess is all about deviousness, isn't it, mirroring politics, both of government and court?"

"I leave all that to men like you, Perry. To me it's simply a game."

"As government and court politics are a game to men like me."

"A game?" Lily asked, angered by the cat and mouse game. "Shouldn't the fate of the nation be taken more seriously, sir?"

"Games can be deadly serious, ma'am," Perriam said. "Contestants can die."

"You make your life sound like a gladiatorial contest," Ben said with a laugh.

"
Morituri te salutant
," Perriam responded, using the gladiatorial words -- we who are about to die salute you. He said it looking at her, but he wasn't predicting his own death.

Lily rose. "I must go up and supervise the children's dinner, sirs."

"Perry can join our afternoon walk," Ben said. "Give him a chance to meet them. He can only stay the one night. Always busy, always busy."

"I'd have it no other way," Perriam said. "You must know how plants are different in their ways."

"But none," Lily said, "are particularly mobile, sir, unless cut."

She wasn't sure it made sense, but it was a good enough note on which to escape. She did hurry upstairs, but she paused outside the schoolroom door to collect herself.

He knew. She wished she knew what he would do. What he was feeling, even.

She knew his type, however, and she knew enough of the royal court and the highest levels of Town society to know dissimulation and conniving were the way of life there. She could never compete.

All she could do was pray he would see how happy Ben was.

And, perhaps, during the afternoon walk, he would realize how innocent her children were. How they should not be thrown out into the winter cold.

***

As they sat down again, Ben considered Perry. "You're not quite pleased. I know the world would say I could do better, but I don't think so."

"You could do better," Perry said in that pleasant tone that often concealed his more serious emotions.

"That's rot. You speak as if I have the pick of the nation. Dammit, that sounds as if I've only chosen Lily out of desperation, and it isn't so. I love her."

"Do you know her well enough to love her?"

"Is there a required time for it? Let's not quarrel over it. I'll not have any incivility."

"Good God, when have you ever known me to be uncivil?"

"You can be uncivil whilst smiling and praising."

"Oh, in that situation it's easiest of all. I promise not to be uncivil to Mistress Gifford. If she'll make you happy, that solves all problems."

"Thank you. She does, you know. She's not of a scholarly disposition, but we talk easily on many subjects. Of an evening, we sit together here. Sometimes I read to her as she sews. It won't sound exciting to you, but I like it."

"I can see how you might."

"I'm not one for gadding about and frolics, but I've been lonely. I hadn't realized how lonely until she and her family came here. And..."

"And?" Perry asked.

Ben waved the question away, but he knew Perry must guess what he'd almost said, not least from his blush.

"Certainly a consideration," Perry said. "Plus, of course, you would like an heir."

"Yes, I would. My duty, in fact."

"A man should definitely do his duty."

"You're laughing at me. Very well, she's a damned desirable woman."

"Very. It would almost seem the gods blessed you when they put the Giffords in your path."

"It feels like that. Enough of my mundane business, what concerns you these days?"

"Trivialities."

"I doubt that. Speak. I may want nothing to do with your world, but viewed from a distance, it fascinates me. Who has dueled whom? What petty squabbles rock the nation? Is the king sickening in body, mind, or both? What evil schemes do the French weave?"

***

Lily managed not to fuss at her children about being on their best behavior. It could make them awkward and would raise questions in Michael's and Charlotte's minds. If they saw Perriam as a threat or enemy, they might do anything. By now, life here was precious to them, and they'd fight to keep it.

Her desperate mind was throwing up more details about the enemy. Noblemen lived only part of the year in London, but he was the sort of younger son who was a "Town man." Tom had been of the same sort, though lower in bloodline and fortune.

In the heat of summer, when the London smells intensified and disease spread, Town men reluctantly left for country house parties, but they returned as soon as problems eased. They would often declare that life elsewhere was tedium, some even that all other places on earth were dull.

In other words, they were idiots, but Perry Perriam was no fool. She'd heard him mentioned as clever, but it was obvious in his presence. He had said nothing erudite, but a very sharp mind worked behind the smooth facade.

She shepherded the children downstairs and outside, knowing Ben would join them, bringing Perriam and the dogs. The nursery maid came, too, these days, to take care of Anna.

For some reason, Lily felt things would go better if the sun were shining, but nature wasn't on her side. It was a dull, misty day, but at least that meant it wasn't so cold. Charlotte rolled the hoop with Susie, and Michael played ball with Tommy. Lily felt keyed up, waiting.

A woof was the first herald, and then the lurchers raced over to chase the hoop. Having conquered that, they raced after the ball thrown by Tommy -- carefully away from the house after the near miss.

Lily turned to smile at the gentlemen. It was interesting how at ease Perriam looked, walking across rough ground in boots when he must be more accustomed to smooth surfaces and heeled shoes. In fact, her enemy was irritatingly at ease in this setting when she was sure it wasn't his milieu.

If he was an enemy, he was an amiable one. He took up the hoop and performed an interesting trick, making it go a little distance and then return to him. All the older children demanded to be taught the way of it, and he obliged them.

"Fascinating fellow," Ben said, smiling. "Rubs along with everyone."

"I find that rather disturbing."

"Why?" he asked, surprised.

"Should a person not have constancy rather than being able to shape themselves to every situation?"

"It's having been trained to court. Kings are rarely constant, so those who serve them must adapt."

"An odd life for a clever man. He is, isn't he? Clever."

"Extremely, though he often conceals it. He's a good, honorable man, Lily. Don't think poorly of him for his superficial skills."

"You know him best, so I'll be guided by you."

Surely a good, honorable man would see that exposing her would only hurt his cousin.

"Heavens," she said. "Surely he won't take accommodation so far as to climb that tree!"

But he did, racing Michael upward.

"He'll tempt him to go too far," she protested, hurrying forward.

Ben didn't stop her, but said, "He'll judge it aright."

And it seemed Perriam did. He stopped, complaining that a higher branch wouldn't take his weight. Lighter Michael could go just a little higher and crow, "I won! I won!"

He looked so much the carefree boy that Lily could have hugged Perry Perriam.