Fascination -and- Charmed (50 page)

“Lovely,” Nelly sighed. “Did you happen to notice his mouth?”

“Oh, yes. Wide. And very firm. The lower lip is fuller than the upper lip, and the very corners tip up the tiniest bit, as if he were in danger of smiling—even when he is so serious.” Pippa’s heart drummed; she heard the rhythm in her ears and felt it beneath her skin.

Nelly rubbed the toes of Pippa’s left foot with steady concentration. “I don’t suppose there was an opportunity to look at Calum Innes’s legs.”

“Oh, yes. Solid. I can imagine him on horseback. I’m sure he is an accomplished rider. His hair would be tossed and he’d laugh at the wind.” She caught her breath and let her eyes close. “I should like to ride beside him and watch him laugh at the wind.”

“But you won’t see him again.”

“Absolutely not. Never. I cannot, because I am to marry the duke. I am a very lucky girl.”

“Very lucky. Did he say—Calum Innes, that is—did he say anything
lovely
?”

Pippa breathed in deeply. “Only that I danced like a nymph and that I flew like an imp of music through the night.”

“Oh,
my lady.
” Nelly sighed.

“At least he said something like that.”

“Lovely.” There was reverence in Nelly’s voice. “But you won’t ever see him again.”

“Oh, no.” How could it be that for a few minutes one could be so perfectly happy, then know that such minutes would never be repeated? “He wanted me to make him a promise.”

“What kind of promise?”

“It was because I accused him of telling a lie—and for calling him a scoundrel.” She smiled. “For flattering me. Then I apologized, but he said my apology wasn’t enough.”

“He wanted something more?”

Pippa worried her bottom lip. “He wanted me to say I would see him again.”

Nelly stopped rubbing entirely. “And did you?”

“No. Absolutely not.” She hadn’t, had she? “At least I didn’t really. No…no, not exactly.”

Pippa stood on her toes and jiggled. The morning sun teased the bobbing heads of daffodils that marched with annoying precision along the tidy pathways in the gardens behind Franchot House.

“Bother,”
Pippa said.

Nelly was instantly at her side. “Come again, my lady?” She was all smiles and rosy-cheeked good humor.

“I said,
bother,
” Pippa informed the girl. “It is all such a bother. London and ugly dresses and doing what’s
done
and saying what’s
said
and not appearing too intelligent and—and—and these dreadful gardens!”

Nelly’s smooth brow ruckled. “Dreadful? Why, they’re as neat as a pin, they are. See how tidy they’ve planted the flowers. And how the trees match.”

“Yes,” Pippa agreed, scowling. “They do
match,
don’t they? What, I wonder, would Mr. Capability Brown say about the way this garden
matches
? An elm to the right and an elm to the left. Not an inch more to the right than to the left. A lilac bush on that side of the path and a lilac bush on the opposite side of the path. Oh, how I miss my marvelous Dowanhill!”

“Because it’s all so wild, you mean?” Nelly asked dubiously.

“Because it is exactly as it should be. Land made as beautiful as it can be by working with nature. All that is required for the complete pleasure of the eye is the emulation of nature, Nelly. In nature, the flowers are not planted in silly rows like silly soldiers. They grow in free fields here and there and they mix, one with another. The land rises and falls—woods in one direction, open fields with grazing sheep in another, a lake in another. And always the trees…”

Ignoring the fine India muslin of her boring pale pink dress, she dropped to her knees and pushed her fingers into the soil. “There is nowhere to
be
here. No one who
needs
me.”

“Ah,” Nelly said sagely. “Now I understand, my lady. You’re missing your woods. That’s it, isn’t it? You want a place where no one can find you, like you had at Dowanhill.

“And you did so love helping the little ones in the village. I don’t suppose a duchess would be likely to spend her time giving lessons to village children.”

Pippa closed her mouth tightly. She would not speak of what she had been forced to leave behind, but she would think of it nevertheless. And she would pray every night that at Franchot Castle she might manage to escape into the woods and find again some of the places she’d relished in childhood visits to Cloudsmoor.

But even if she could wander free in Cornwall and claim a special place for herself, how could she find a way to fill the empty places in her heart that had belonged to the children of Dowanhill?

Grateful for the shielding brim of her chip bonnet, Pippa closed her eyes and willed away the sadness. She was to be Her Grace the Duchess of Franchot. That would become her life’s work…whatever that meant. It would certainly
not
mean dreaming about a man with intense dark eyes who seemed to have charmed his way into her undisciplined favor.

After a long silence, Nelly said, “I do hate to see you so unhappy. You’ve not been yourself since last evening. I expect you’re unsettled by thinking about that fine Mr. Calum Innes.”

“No such thing!” Pippa filled a fist with earth and squeezed. “I have more important matters to consider than a casual encounter with a man whose acquaintance I’m never likely to make again.” She should never have mentioned him.

“Aye,” Nelly said faintly. “I only thought—”

“Perhaps you should think less. Thinking in females is
not
considered particularly admirable. You’d do well to remember that. Why—” Pippa stopped and bowed her head. “Forgive my snappishness, Nelly. I’m not quite the thing today, I’m afraid.”

“You’ve too much to deal with,” Nelly said. “A body needs people of her own around her when she’s t’be married. You’ve naught but strangers. The dowager’s—well, I’ve no doubt she’s a good heart, but it’s not the same as havin’ a mam of your own to tell you the way of things.”

All true, but Pippa dared not allow any self-pity. If she once gave in to the panic she felt hovering just outside her composure, she would be lost.

“That dress will be ruined, my lady.” The happiness had left Nelly’s voice, and Pippa regretted that.

“You’re right,” she said brightly, springing to her feet. “Thank you for making me feel better. I’d best wash my hands and see if I can hide any damage to the dress. Come along, Nelly. I don’t suppose you’ve seen an apron anywhere in this bothersome house?”

“Aprons aplenty,” Nelly responded. “But they all belong to maids.”

Pippa looked toward the house and wrinkled her nose. “Here comes Finch.” She glanced from the approaching butler to her skirts and noted, with dismay, that muddy spots marked the place where she’d knelt. “Oh, this is all
such
a bother,” she mumbled.

Finch arrived at a stately pace and bowed as he offered her a single card upon a silver tray.

“Thank you, Finch,” Pippa said, and winced as dirt from her fingers smeared the card and dusted the shimmering tray.

The corner of the card was turned down.

Lord-a-mercy!
At this moment, while Pippa stood in the gardens of Franchot House, her hands and dress filthy, Mr. Calum Innes, of Hanover Square, stood inside that house awaiting Pippa’s response.

“My lady?” Finch inquired in his reverberating baritone.

Here.

Was the duke at home? She didn’t know. She knew almost nothing at all about him. Only yesterday—at precisely noon—she had encountered him on the stairway as he returned from a night’s revelry. He hadn’t as much as wished her a good day.

“My lady?” Finch repeated.

What if the duke were at home and he chanced to appear in the hallway and see Mr. Innes?

What if the duke returned while Mr. Innes stood in the hallway?

“Oh, bother,” Pippa said.

“My lady?” Finch inquired.

“Yes,” she said, completely befuddled. The duke had been so angry with Mr. Innes for dancing with her that he’d been about to call him out!

Finch had already turned away and begun to retrace his steps to the house.

“This is desperate,” Pippa said, looking wildly around. “Disastrous. Devastating. Calamitous. Catastrophic.
Finch!
”

Finch, well on his way back to the house, didn’t even check his stride.

“Oh, bother, bother,
bother.”
Pippa whirled about, and whirled again. She stood, her fingers twined tightly together, staring toward the terrace.

“What is it?” Nelly asked. “What’s disastrous…and all those other horrible things?”

“It’s—” No, she must be calm. A clear head had always been her most valued asset. God knew she had none of the other attributes a young lady needed to be a success—except the silly dowry that had brought her to this frightful fix. “I must return to the house at once. Come with me, Nelly. Whatever you do, remain calm.”

“Yes—”

“Show no sign of agitation.” Pippa’s feet flew along the pathway. “It would be best to appear slightly bored, as if whatever is happening—if anything happens—as if this were the type of thing that occurs every day. Do you understand?”

“No.”

They’d reached the steps leading to the terrace and Pippa glanced anxiously at Nelly before racing up, crossing the terrace and entering the lush conservatory that was her favorite spot in the house. “I shall simply have to tell Finch to send him away,” she said. “At once. Before the unspeakable can occur.”

Pippa had walked almost the length of a palm-lined aisle when a deep masculine voice said, “No need at all to announce me. I’ll find my own way from here.”

She stopped, looking for an escape, and Nelly ran into her heels.

He appeared in the doorway, took the two stairs down into the conservatory in a single stride and saw Pippa.

In daylight, with plant shadows playing over his features, he was even more compelling than she recalled.

The absolutely best thing for this hazardous moment would be to pretend she did not even remember him.

“Good morning, Lady Philipa,” he said.

Her heart had surely stopped.

“I do hope I’m not calling too early.”

Her heart had definitely stopped. His cheekbones slanted. She hadn’t noted that, or if she had, there had been so many other things to contemplate that she’d forgotten. Yes, he did have the most marvelous cheekbones. And she hadn’t made as perfect a memory picture of his mouth as it deserved. If a man’s mouth could be said to be beautiful, then she would most certainly say it of Calum Innes’s mouth. Sharply defined along its edges, the lips curved most…most…they
curved.

And his eyes were almost black, with curling lashes…Black and penetrating and…questioning?

Pippa remembered her plan and half-turned away. “This is the way to the gardens, sir. Possibly you intended to go the other way? Or perhaps you are in entirely the wrong house?” Ooh, how foolish that sounded.

Mr. Innes inclined his head. “I think not.”

“I
know
not,” Nelly announced suddenly. “You’re not seeing plain, my lady. I told you not to stand out there staring into the sun. It’s affected your sight. It’s Mr. Calum Innes. I’d know him anywhere.”

Pippa folded her arms around her middle and tried not to cringe.

“Look at him,” Nelly instructed. “Very tall with very broad shoulders. No need for padding, my lady. Just like we talked about.”

“Nelly, I don’t think—”

“I know, my lady. And I’m trying hard to do as you told me and stop thinking, too. But it’s hard. There is red in his hair. And his legs—”

“Nelly!”

The maid dropped a hasty curtsy and said, “Yes, my lady,” before withdrawing a few yards.

Pippa turned back to Mr. Innes. “Forgive me,” she said. “As Nelly said, the sun…Oh, what complete twaddle! Of course I know who you are. I knew who you were the moment you appeared…before you appeared. Finch brought your card, so naturally I knew.”

“Please,” he said, so very gently. “Don’t overset yourself. I have surprised you.”

“That is no excuse for playacting and falsehood,” she told him. “My father always insists upon honesty, and I’ve liked him for it. Honesty sets out the proper way of things. Honesty makes living inside oneself more comfortable.”

“No doubt,” Mr. Innes agreed.

“I was flummoxed because the duke was angry with you last night—with
us.
When Finch brought your card, I was immediately concerned that His Grace might see you and renew his attempts to duel with you.” There, she had been truthful, and…and it did not make her feel one whit less afraid.

Mr. Innes’s expression had set into deeply serious lines. Pippa decided she liked his face as much when he was serious as when he laughed.

He came close and rested a booted foot atop the low wall that contained planting beds. Leaning forward—very close to Pippa—he propped a forearm upon his thigh.

Mr. Innes had strong-looking thighs, with long, hard muscles that flexed along the top…and beneath. His bespoke top boots fitted snug to equally strong-looking calves.

Pippa shifted her eyes from Mr. Innes’s braced leg to the ground.

“Lady Philipa,” he said, “what did the Duke of Franchot say to you last night?”

“Nothing.”

“I am not an angry man, my lady. And, like you, I prefer honesty whenever there is a choice. Tell me how the duke showed you his anger.”

She did not know how to answer him.

His touch, light on her cheek—fingertips brushing to her jaw and on to the point of her chin—made Pippa draw a quick breath. Still she could not look at him.

“I want to know if you are being treated unkindly,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. No, I am not being treated at all.” Fie, why did she find herself telling this man whatever came into her head?

A purposeful tug on her bonnet ribbons startled her and she did glance up. “Mr. Innes?”

“Lady Philipa?” The ribbons were loosed and he swept the bonnet off. “There is little sun in here. And you have the loveliest hair. It is too bad to cover it.”

Pippa blushed and looked around for Nelly—just in time to see the girl slip from the conservatory and onto the terrace. “So you described me to your maid.”