JORDAN Nicole (15 page)

“You are a lady all the same. And if I remember, you don’t even like brandy.”

“True. But I am told that it might help with my throbbing head.” Flashing a rueful smile, Lily leaned forward to pour herself a cup of tea. “You see, I got rather foxed last night at the ball. I should know better, since spirits make me tipsy, including champagne. But I drank three glasses of it because I was feeling sad at losing Arabella, and now I am sincerely regretting my indulgence.”

“Is that all that is wrong, Lily?”

Surprisingly, her cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “Well, perhaps notall . Winifred is still driving me to distraction with her maddening attempts at matchmaking.”

“I know,” Roslyn agreed wholeheartedly. “I was her target last night and again this morning. You were right about her wanting to pair me with Arden. It was mortifying in the extreme.”

“Well, I don’t intend to remain here to become Winifred’s hapless victim,” Lily said decisively. “I mean to go to London and stay at Fanny’s boardinghouse. She has room, and she has asked my advice in dealing with two of her friends who run the house. I don’t know if I can help them, but I would like to try.”

Roslyn stared at her sister in surprise. “You intend to hide in London in order to elude Winifred’s matchmaking schemes? Are such drastic measures really necessary?”

Lily grimaced. “I am beginning to think so. If I can’t be found, then I needn’t worry about any unwanted suitors, do I? I cannot stay in Chiswick, obviously. And no one will think to look for me at Fanny’s place, including Marcus, thankfully. You know he would not approve of my intimacy with her particular friends.” Lily’s tone suddenly became more cheerful. “I have it! You can tell Winifred and anyone else who inquires that I have gone to Hampshire to visit friends at our old home.”

Roslyn’s brows drew together in a puzzlement. “Why would you want her to think—”

“Please, Rose, just humor me this once.”

Wondering if she should be concerned, Roslyn searched her sister’s face. “Lily…is there more you aren’t telling me?”

“Not at all. Don’t worry about me, dearest. It is nothing I cannot handle.” Lily smiled reassuringly before adding under her breath, “I simply have absolutely no intention of allowing any man to court me.”

Roslyn would have prodded her sister further, but Lily clearly didn’t wish to discuss the subject. And since she was perfectly capable of knowing her own mind and dealing with her own problems, Roslyn decided to focus on her own immediate affairs—chiefly preparing for her three o’clock meeting with Lord Haviland to discuss his upcoming ball.

When Roslyn finally finished her appointed task of itemizing wedding gifts, she started making lists of the countless details that needed to be decided on in order to conduct a ball of large magnitude.

At half past two, she went upstairs to change her attire with the help of their lady’s maid, Nan. Making use of the new wardrobe Marcus had funded, Roslyn donned a stylish gown of blue jaconet that was the same color as her eyes. Then she returned downstairs to the small salon, where she intended to receive her guest, since it was much more informal and comfortable than the drawing room, which had been totally refurbished by Arabella in the past month.

Roslyn felt a measure of excitement as she waited for the earl to arrive, but she forced herself to keep from glancing out the window more than once every few minutes. Instead she went over in her mind the techniques of flirtation that Arden had taught her this morning…eyes, mouth, flattery….

She found herself smiling anew while wondering if his tricks would have any effect on Haviland. She hoped so. She would sometimes daydream of the earl, imagining how their courtship would go. He would be irresistibly drawn to her from the first, and in a very short time, declare his love and ask for her hand in marriage.

Perhaps, Roslyn ruminated, she had concocted a mere fairy tale, but if she could kindle his desire for her in any way, she was willing to exert her best effort, including developing her skill at coquetry, despite the fact that she was not really cut out for such pretenses.

Haviland arrived promptly at three, but to her surprise, he was not alone; when he was shown into the salon by Simpkin, he was accompanied by the Duke of Arden. The two noblemen seemed to be on amiable terms, although they claimed to have met at her front door.

Roslyn looked a question at Arden, wondering why he had chosen to call at this precise moment when he knew she had an appointment with the earl.

“I thought you might like a report on the search for our highwayman,” he answered without prodding.

Haviland’s heavy eyebrows drew together sharply. “What highwayman?”

He had not yet heard about last night’s holdup, so Roslyn was required to relate the events.

“What is being done about it?” Haviland wanted to know.

The duke answered for her, telling him about the search the Freemantle servants had conducted this morning. “They canvassed the district for the brigand, but found no traces of blood anywhere, or any real clues to follow. He could have taken refuge anywhere, even as far as London.”

“Perhaps we should have armed footman patrol the roads for the next few nights,” Haviland suggested.

“It is already being done,” Arden replied.

“Good. And we should alert the local citizens to be on the lookout and to keep their possessions well guarded. I don’t want to alarm anyone unnecessarily, but they should take precautions.”

Simpkin arrived with the tea tray just then, and Roslyn invited the earl to sit beside her on the settee. If she expected Arden to take his leave, however, she was disappointed, for he settled comfortably in a wing chair and showed no signs of retreating. And as she poured for the gentlemen, he changed the subject to the earl’s ball, which vexed and dismayed her more than a little. She had hoped for some time alone with Lord Haviland and had not expected to have an audience.

But since the duke apparently intended to give her no choice, Roslyn summoned a smile and asked Haviland what plans had been made for the ball.

“My housekeeper has already arranged for flowers and musicians and more serving staff, but she would be grateful for your advice on the menu, since she has never been required to feed such distinguished company. There will be a dinner beforehand for two dozen guests, and a late buffet supper at midnight. And I would welcome your help with the social niceties—where to place the reception line, how to seat the guests by rank, that sort of thing.”

“I would be happy to help,” Roslyn said. “It would be best if I inspected your house and met with your butler and housekeeper. And I should like to see the guest list.”

“I have brought it with me.” Haviland drew out a sheaf of papers and handed it to her.

Roslyn glanced down the long list, which contained some two hundred members of the ton, many of whom had attended the Danvers wedding celebrations. When she was finished, the duke surprised her by asking to see it.

“I can probably assist in this respect,” Arden said, “since I’m acquainted with a good number of the ton.”

Roslyn handed it over without demur. No doubt hecould help, since he moved in the highest circles of society and knew everyone of consequence.

While he perused the list of guests, she picked up her own list of requirements for a successful ball and began to review the various categories with the earl to make certain they had been properly considered. Haviland moved nearer to her, the better to see, and bent his head close to hers.

The intimate position would have offered Roslyn the perfect opportunity to initiate her intended flirtation with him—if not for her keen awareness that they were not alone. The duke was watching her too closely for comfort, which made her exceedingly self-conscious. Yet whenever she glanced up at Arden, he merely raised an innocent eyebrow and sipped his tea.

When eventually she narrowed her eyes at him, he merely smiled, his gaze gleaming a challenge, as if daring her to order him out.

His presence flustered Roslyn so that she could barely concentrate on the plans for the ball. When she was done reviewing her lists with Haviland, she set an appointment for eleven o’clock the following morning to inspect his house for herself and meet with his upper servant staff. A few minutes later he rose and took his leave after thanking her sincerely.

When he was gone, Roslyn turned to Arden with an undisguised look of exasperation. “What do you mean, your grace, intruding on us that way? I had hoped for privacy with Lord Haviland.”

His expression remained mild in the face of her obvious pique. “I wanted to see you employ your new skills on him.”

“So you came to critique my performance?”

“And to observe so that I could offer you pointers.” He shook his head ruefully. “I admit I was not impressed by your lackluster attempts at flirtation, darling.”

His remark provoked her even more. “How could you expect me to flirt with him with you watching my every move?”

The duke settled back in his chair. “You shouldn’t let yourself be discomfited. Conducting a dalliance under public scrutiny is all part of the game.”

Roslyn’s hands went to her hips. “It isyour scrutiny that discomfits me.”

“Why? I am merely your tutor.”

Her frustration only rose. “I asked you to help me, not hinder me! Why did you even come here today?”

Arden shrugged. “Would you believe boredom? I found myself at loose ends, cooling my heels at Freemantle Park with nothing to do. And I decided that watching you with Haviland might prove entertaining.”

“So you decided to use us for your own personal amusement?” Roslyn asked dangerously.

His expression sobered. “Not entirely. The truth is I wanted to escape Lady Freemantle before I throttled her. Her enthusiasm for conversation is enough to drive a saint mad. But you are right to be annoyed with me. Pray accept my apologies.”

Somewhat mollified by his explanation, Roslyn felt her ire fading. The duke had only remained at the Park out of chivalry. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to escape Winifred.

“I understand your impatience with Lady Freemantle,” Roslyn said more softly. “She does tend to get a bit giddy when she has a captive audience. But it is because she is lonely—a widow with no children or family relations. And she has few friends in the neighborhood because of her lower-class origins.”

“But you understand why I might want to take refuge here?”

“Yes, and you are welcome here, of course.”

“Thank you, Beauty.”

She gave him another exasperated look. “I wish you would not call me that, your grace. You know my feelings on the subject of appearance. You needn’t keep reminding me of mine.”

His mouth curved. “You will have to become accustomed to an occasional endearment if you mean to become more intimate with Haviland.”

“How can I become more intimate when you won’t allow me the chance?”

“Point taken. Very well, it won’t happen again.”

“I trust not. I begin to believe I can do better on my own.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you no longer want my advice on how to win Haviland?”

Roslyn hesitated. “No, I am not saying that at all. But you needn’t be so…provoking.”

“Fair enough. Sit down so we can discuss your performance. You fell short in several areas, I’m afraid.”

Reluctantly Roslyn returned to the settee. “What was wrong with my performance?”

Clasping his fingers over his stomach, Arden surveyed her thoughtfully. “For one thing, you were too businesslike just now. You should make an effort to be more feminine with Haviland. Strive to be a little less dictatorial and managing.”

She frowned. “But Haviland seems to esteem my management skills.”

“Do you want him to see you as his majordomo or as his potential lover?”

“His lover, of course.”

“Then leave the generalship to his servant staff. For a moment or two there, you were so commanding you reminded me of my mother.”

“You have a mother?” Roslyn asked archly.

He grinned. “What did you expect? That I was hatched?”

“I would not be surprised.”

His grin took on a satirical slant. “My mother is a dragon, but I’m told I came into the world in quite the usual way.”

Roslyn heard the sharp note in his tone at the mention of his mother, but she was more interested in returning to the subject of her deficiencies with Haviland. “Where else did I go wrong?”

“You might want to temper your frankness a little. Some men may find your brand of forthrightness off-putting.”

“Do you?” she asked curiously.

“No, but we’re not concerned with my likes. Haviland will respond better to a sweeter tone. And whatever you do, don’t flay him with your sharp tongue.”

Disheartened, Roslyn sank back against the settee. “I am not likely to flay Haviland. More often I find myself at a loss for words with him.”

“Somehow that surprises me,” Arden said dryly.

“Well, it is true.”

“I suspect you are too eager to earn his good opinion, whereas with me, you have no compunction at telling me off to my face.”

“Because I have no desire to impress you.”

“So quit trying so hard with Haviland. Simply be yourself. You are charming and personable enough to let your natural self shine through.”

She stared at him. “Merciful heavens, I believe you just complimented me.”

“I suppose I did.”

His green eyes glimmered at her, making her pulse quicken. Shaking herself, though, Roslyn managed a smile. “Well, thank you for the lesson, your grace. I will try to do better next time.”

“If you like, I will call on you tomorrow morning before your meeting with Haviland and give you another lesson.”

“I would appreciate that. For now, however…” Bending, she gathered up her lists and stood. “If you will excuse me, I still have a great deal to do. But please make yourself at home for as long as you like. If you care for more tea—or something stronger like wine or brandy—just ring for Simpkin.”

Politely rising to his feet as she left, Drew found himself grinning ruefully at having been dismissed once more. But he could not have expected a warmer welcome from Roslyn when he’d intruded on her privacy so flagrantly.