Lorraine Heath - [Lost Lords of Pembrook 03] (24 page)

“He’s a soldier then, not a lord.” She felt a sense of relief. She would not be mingling about with the upper crust. But what of the little boy? Was he only visiting.

“He’s a duke.”

Her stomach knotted. “Perhaps we should reconsider.”

“I never took you to be cowardly.”

“I’m not afraid, but I don’t wish to create scandal. You said this was their first ball. I don’t want to ruin it for them.”

“You won’t.”

The carriage rocked to a halt. The door opened. Rafe fairly leapt out before extending his hand to her. Taking a deep steadying breath, she placed hers in his. His fingers closed around hers, strong and purposeful. She alighted, taking in the sight of so many footmen scurrying about to assist the guests as they arrived. She thought everyone would be here by now, that they would be the last, but she supposed people came and went all night. The residence was as large as Rafe’s, perhaps larger.

As he escorted her up the steps, she said, “They have a son. I hear him playing in the garden sometimes.”

“He’s but two. He’ll be abed.”

“You seem to know them very well.”

“Not so well.”

They stepped through the doorway, and he handed his hat to a servant while she took in everything. It was gorgeous. Family portraits adorned the walls. Something about them was familiar. It was the eyes she realized. All the gentlemen had such pale blue eyes.

But before she could give it much more thought, Rafe was escorting her down a hallway where a few couples waited in line. They looked at him but said nothing, and she wondered if they knew who he was.

“Do you suppose Geoffrey will be here?” she whispered.

“I doubt it. He was lost in the cards when I left the club.”

She was glad of that. He’d no doubt make a fuss, although she suspected Rafe would put a stop to it quickly enough. She did wish now that she had purchased some pearl combs for her hair, but she couldn’t bring herself to spend his money, to place herself more in his debt.

Then they were through the doorway, and her breath fairly escaped her body. It was all that she had imagined. Stairs led down into the enormous parlor. Candles flickered in the chandeliers. A mirrored wall reflected the guests milling around the edges of the dance area. The fragrance of the abundance of flowers scattered about permeated the air with a heady aroma. The ceiling was so high up that the room contained a balcony where the orchestra played. On the opposite side from where she and Rafe stood, the doors were open onto the terrace.

Leaning over, Rafe said something to the liveried servant standing there. Then he placed his hand over hers where it still rested on his arm.

“Miss Evelyn Chambers,” the man announced in a booming voice that nearly stopped her heart. “Lord Rafe Easton.”

She had assumed he would come here as a lord, but still it was disconcerting to hear him announced as such. It was so easy to forget that he inhabited this world, while she had only skipped at the edge of it. At the foot of the stairs, a couple jerked up their heads and Eve saw the scarred visage of the duke. Even Rafe’s warning had not prepared her for the massive threads of thick skin that resembled molten wax easing out from around the black eye patch and down to the man’s jaw. In contrast, the woman beside him was perfection, with bright green eyes and flaming red hair. She smiled warmly as Evelyn and Rafe descended.

As they got nearer, Evelyn realized the man’s remaining eye was the same shade as Rafe’s, ice over a clear blue lake. She fought to keep her mouth closed, to not look stunned. She didn’t want him to think it was his face that so startled her, rather than the realization that she was on the verge of meeting Rafe’s other brother. She was sure of it. If she blocked out the scars, he looked very much like the man she’d met in the park. She was half tempted to smack her fist against Rafe’s arm. Why hadn’t he confided in her?

As they came to a stop before the couple, Evelyn took a deep curtsy. “Your Graces.”

The duke merely studied her, probably seeing more with his one eye than most people did with two.

“Miss Chambers, it is a pleasure,” the duchess said. “And you—” She slapped her fan against Rafe’s shoulder. “How wicked of you not to tell us you were coming.”

“I wasn’t certain I’d be able to find the time.”

“But then he caught me dancing in the garden—”

“Our garden?” the duke interrupted.

Taken aback by his brusque tone, Evelyn shook her head. “No, his garden. On the other side of the wall.”

The duke glared. “You live in that monstrosity on the other side of the wall?”

“No. Miss Chambers resides there. I live in the rooms at my club. And now if you’ll excuse us, I hear a waltz starting. I promised the lady a dance.”

Before anyone could respond, he wrapped his long fingers around her arm and was propelling her toward the dance floor.

“That was remarkably rude,” she muttered.

“We didn’t come here to talk. We came here to dance.”

“Why didn’t you tell me whose affair we were attending?”

“What does it matter? You wanted to attend a ball, and you have. One dance and we leave. Enjoy it, sweetheart.”

Within the mad crush of dancing couples, he took her into his arms and glided her over the polished wood. She wanted to remain irritated with him, but decided to lock it away until later. She didn’t understand his relationship with his brothers—except to think that he didn’t truly have one. But for now, she was at a ball dancing with a handsome gentleman. She wouldn’t have it ruined.

“Why didn’t you let him know that you lived beside him?” All right. Perhaps it would be ruined.

“It never came up in conversation.”

“You can be the most infuriating man—”

“Who brought you to something he despises so you might find some enjoyment.”

That knocked all the fight out of her. “Do you really despise it?”

“Only because it reminds me of my roots, and they were dug up long ago.”

“But roots always return to where they were, don’t they? They return to the soil.”

“Oh, my little philosopher, can you not see that they are as uncomfortable with me being here as I am with being here? Many of these gents frequent my club. They owe me a good deal of coin. A few even spend time with my girls. I know their darkest indiscretions.”

“Which gents?”

He gave her a sardonic smile. “Would you have me lose my value as a keeper of secrets?”

The music drifted into silence and the disappointment hit her. They would leave now. She supposed she should be grateful for the time she had. Only he didn’t escort her from the dance floor, and when the strains of another waltz began, he led her into it. She smiled up at him. For all his gruffness and complaining, she doubted he was going to whisk her away, back to his residence, as quickly as he’d said. He was going to give her this night until she was tired of it. She was sure of it.

“Madame Charmaine told me that you and your brothers have only been known in London for three years. Surely you’ve had your club longer than that.”

“I acquired it when I was seventeen, but I used the name Rafe Weston.”

“Clever. East. West. But no one recognized you?”

“I was ten when we . . . disappeared, as it was so gently put. No one looked for us. No one tried to find us. The most popular tale was that we were eaten by wolves. Wolves, Evie. One of us perhaps, but all three of us? The other two wouldn’t have stood around, twiddling their thumbs waiting to be devoured. Yet people believed it.”

He sounded so incredibly offended. She supposed that she could hardly blame him. “But surely once you returned, they were glad to see you.”

“Not as glad as you might think. Uncle had made friends. We weren’t very polished, but mostly, this isn’t the world in which I grew up. I’m far more comfortable walking through St. Giles.”

Which she found so very sad. He should have been comfortable here. She wouldn’t ask him to stay any longer than this dance. So she decided to make the most of these few precious moments. A month ago, a week ago, she would have looked around, taking in all the beautiful gowns, the well-dressed gentlemen. She would have noticed hairstyles and jewelry. She would have watched the orchestra playing, the flames flickering in the chandeliers. Now she merely focused on him. The way his ice-blue eyes remained on her, the set of his mouth and how she longed for it to curl up into a smile. The weight of his touch at her waist. The gentleness with which he held her hand. The feel of her palm curved around his strong shoulder. The heat in his gaze. The promise she saw there that the night would end with pleasure in her bed. She had never wanted to be a mistress, but she did acknowledge that she wanted to be with him.

When the final strains of the song drifted away, she knew she would remember them always, and the gift he had given her of waltzing in a ballroom. “We should leave now, I think.”

His gaze intense, he gave her a quick nod. Then he did something he’d never done. He laced his fingers through hers. The small act seemed almost as intimate as being in bed with him. Wending their way through the throng, he guided her around the couples until they reached the outer edge. His hold on her hand tightened as Lord Tristan, Lady Anne beside him, stepped into their path.

Lord Tristan smiled broadly. “Heard you were about. Thought you might join me for a drink in the library.”

“We’re leaving now.”

“So soon?” Lady Anne asked, clear disappointment in her voice. She looked at Evelyn. “I thought we might get a chance to visit, just for a moment. We have so much in common.”

Evelyn wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I’m not certain we do.”

“We’re both on the arm of a Pembrook lord. I find it terribly challenging. We could discuss it. You don’t mind, do you, Rafe?”

“One drink,” Tristan said. “Just to be polite.”

“Being polite is not what I’m known for.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Five minutes is all we’re asking.”

Evelyn didn’t want to interfere. This matter was between Rafe and his brothers, but neither did she want a lovely evening spoiled for everyone simply because he’d given her the gift of dance in a ballroom. She squeezed his hand. He looked down at her and she smiled. “I’ll be perfectly fine with Lady Anne if you wish to join them.”

He sighed heavily. “I don’t wish it, but I suppose a few minutes delay will cause no harm.” His fingers released their hold on hers. “I won’t be long.”

She watched him stride away with his brother. They cut fine figures, both tall and broad-shouldered, dark hair shining almost blue in the candlelight. She could see people turning to observe them.

“They gather attention wherever they go,” Lady Anne said.

“Yes, I’ve heard they’re a curiosity.”

“Oh, there is that, but mostly I think it’s because they’re so devilishly handsome and they strut about with such confidence. They intimidate a good many.”

Yes, Evelyn could see that.

“Will you join me on the terrace for some fresh air?” Lady Anne asked.

Evelyn was surprised by the invitation. Obviously Lady Anne didn’t truly understand Evelyn’s role in Rafe’s life. “That’s very kind but—”

“Don’t even think of refusing me.” She slipped her arm through Evelyn’s and began strolling toward the open doors. “I know what it is to be a curiosity myself. I mourned my fiancé’s passing for two years. When I finally returned to Society, everyone was scrutinizing my behavior. It was quite irritating. We tend to judge far too much I think.”

They walked onto the cobblestone and crossed over to the railing that bordered the terrace. From here, Evelyn could make out the rooftop of Rafe’s residence in the distance. With the brick fence and the trees and shrubbery, it was impossible to see into the next yard, and each house sat on a lovely plot of land that put distance between the residences.

“I can’t believe that’s Rafe’s property,” Lady Anne said. “We didn’t know.”

“I live there. You really shouldn’t befriend me.”

“Why? Because you’re his mistress? None of us are completely pure. Would you feel more comfortable with me knowing that Lord Tristan and I were lovers before we married?”

Evelyn knew her eyes widened. Fortunately she was able to keep her mouth from gaping open.

“I only tell you,” Lady Anne began, “because I can see what you mean to him. I was rude enough to watch as you were dancing. He never took his gaze from you. I think he cares for you, so I want you to feel at ease with us.”

Evelyn blinked. “I’m quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Rafe’s a loner. Yet here you are. With him.”

“It’s not what you think,” Evelyn assured her. She couldn’t risk thinking that it might be more, because she knew he could very easily break her heart.

“Forgive me then. I’m just a romantic. Oh, and look, Mary’s coming to visit with us. She knows the Pembrook lords better than any of us. She grew up with them.”

“They’re not the boys I knew,” the duchess said as she joined them. “But I’m ever so glad Rafe is here tonight.” She smiled. “I suspect you’re responsible for that.”

“I only wanted to dance.”

“Well, perhaps you’ll get another dance before you leave. Sebastian shouldn’t keep him overly long, but as it’s been a good long while since Rafe has been to the manor when Sebastian was here, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to speak with him.”

“I understand they separated when they were boys.”

“They had no choice.” And Mary began to tell her the tale.

“H
ow long have you lived there?” Sebastian asked.

They were in his well-appointed library. He sat on the edge of his desk, Tristan lounged in a nearby chair, and Rafe leaned against the fireplace. They each held a glass of whiskey.

“Three years longer than you’ve lived here.” Rafe shrugged. “It allowed me to keep a watch over Uncle.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? Everyone is of the belief that Lord Loudon lives there, although he’s not been to town in years from what I understand.”

“I didn’t want Uncle to know I was there, so Loudon and I handled the transaction very quietly. I pay him a yearly sum to maintain that he still owns it. The fact that he doesn’t come to town means that no one calls, so no one learned differently.” Although now he supposed he could dispense with paying the man.