Never Entice an Earl (12 page)

Havering repositioned himself upon his saddle, unaware of the two Aimsley sisters,
who at that very moment passed behind him in their carriage, gazing at him with the
most fervent admiration—until their keen-eyed aunt leaned forward and, with her folded
fan, smacked them both on the knee, to which they responded with squeals of outrage.

“Oh, Havering,” snorted Daphne, watching with unconcealed amusement over his shoulder.
“I know who else will expect a dance with you. In fact, I must be on my guard that
I am not shoved out of the way.”

Clarissa grinned. “Just think of the spectacle when he’s forced to dance with them
both at once. I know for a fact that neither one is willing to settle for being second.”

“They’re behind me right now, aren’t they? The Aimsley sisters?” He grinned wickedly,
and his eyebrows crept up. “You’ve invited them to your ball just to torment me.”

“Mother insisted,” Daphne confided playfully.

“I did nothing of the sort—at least not for that reason.” Lady Harwick smiled serenely,
but her eyes sparkled with humor. “They are both delightful girls, just a bit overly
enthusiastic in their admiration of you. How can I fault them for that?”

Their driver lowered his cane, and the barouche again moved forward.

Havering gathered his reins, and rode along beside them. “It has been lovely speaking
to you ladies, but I have an appointment, and must take my leave of you. Oh, but one
final thing. You mentioned the reaction of the gallery when you rode into the park
today. Perhaps you haven’t heard, but word on the vine has it your daughters have
been declared, by those revered authorities who do all the declaring, to be the season’s
Incomparables. Note the plural.” He grinned. “Two sisters. When has that ever happened
before? I say congratulations, to the three of you, and to Wolverton.”

Daphne glanced toward Clarissa, who raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

With a touch of his finger to his hat, and a kick of his heels, Fox cantered ahead.

“What wonderful news,” declared the viscountess with an exuberant smile—one that instantly
tilted into a frown. “What
terrible
news. While the distinction of being an Incomparable is indeed an honor, I had hoped
this would be an enjoyable season for you both. Now everyone will scrutinize our every
movement and word, down to your choices of dance partners. The smallest misstep will
be spun into scandal. You know the
ton
. They thrive on spectacle, even if manufactured and untrue.” She sighed, closing
her eyes. “Lord, I pray Mr. Kincraig does not humiliate us with any future drunken
antics.”

The most recent, of course, had been two nights before when he’d been found in the
fountain at Buckingham Palace, utterly sotted and wearing only a ballerina’s tutu.
Or so she and Clarissa had overheard from the top of the staircase when the King’s
Guards had delivered him to their home, with sworn promises of discretion. He’d been
taken to one of the downstairs guest rooms to sleep his liquor off, but when Wolverton’s
valet sought to attend to him early the next morning, he’d already taken his leave
of the house. The whole incident had been such a disappointment to them all, when
just the day before, according to her mother and sister, he had behaved so charmingly
at the Heseldon ball.

“Ah, Mr. Kincraig. Well, then,” Clarissa murmured in a wan voice. “Consider me worried.”

“And I as well,” Daphne said softly, fretting silently over the word her mother had
just said:
scandal
.

But not because of Mr. Kincraig.

What she, Daphne Bevington, had done three nights before had been more than just a
small misstep. Yes, she’d gone to the Blue Swan for Kate, but hadn’t she owed as much
loyalty to her own sister, whom she held so dear? If word of her appearance on the
stage of the Blue Swan became public knowledge, it would utterly destroy her younger
sister’s chance for a respectable match. No venerable family would ever welcome her
into their ranks.

Why hadn’t Clarissa been more foremost in her mind that night, balanced with her concern
for Kate? She just hadn’t been thinking and now, in retrospect, she suffered beneath
the weight of a crushing guilt. She had the sudden urge to throw her arms around her
sister, and press a kiss to her cheek and tell her a thousand times that she loved
her. But then she’d have to explain her sudden outburst of emotion, not just to Clarissa
but to their mother, and she just couldn’t. Not yet. Perhaps years from now, when
everything had turned out well after all, and they could both laugh about it.

But for now, Daphne’s secret had driven an invisible and regrettable wedge between
them, even if Clarissa didn’t realize. They’d always told each other everything. But
though the words had been on Daphne’s tongue a thousand times in the three days since,
she couldn’t reveal to Clarissa what she’d done. She refused to place that burden
on her sister’s shoulders.

Just then, a horse caught her attention—a magnificent animal! A bay mare with black
legs, unparalleled by any other creature on the path. She’d always loved horses, though
she did not ride anymore, not since that day four years ago when her father had died.

Clarissa touched her arm, and stared in the same direction. “Daphne, just look at
that gentleman. Isn’t he magnificent? Who is he?”

She pointed, of course, in the same direction as the horse Daphne had just been admiring.

Her gaze swept upward to deduce the identity of its rider, who sat tall and broad
shouldered in the saddle, impeccably dressed in a dark blue riding coat and fawn breeches.
The direction of the sun shone at such a slant as to hide the upper half of his face
in the deep shadow created by his hat brim, but his mouth and chin—

That mouth and chin.

She turned her head sharply, concealing her face with the brim of her hat.

She’d recognize those lips anywhere.
They’d kissed her. Turned her world upside down, and left her dangerously dissatisfied
with the path her life was destined to take. Only a moment ago, she’d been aching
to see him, but she’d never truly anticipated that she would.

Cormack.
Here?

Of course he was. Hyde Park was public. Anyone could ride there. Oh, she couldn’t
let him see her. If he recognized her and endeavored to speak with her, there would
be a mountain of questions. Questions from Cormack and her mother and her sister,
none of which she could answer.

She held her rigid pose several seconds more, fixing her gaze on the pleated blue
ribbon at the edge of her hat brim, hearing her mother and Clarissa’s voices, but
not comprehending a single word they said. One second, two seconds, three. There came
no shout of
Kate!
nor the clip-clop of horses’ hooves beside the carriage. He
hadn’t
seen her, and he’d ridden past without stopping. She let out the breath she’d been
holding and, with all discretion, glanced over her shoulder—

To see his horse still traveling away, but Cormack half-turned in his saddle,
his gaze fixed piercingly on her
.

He did not smile, or tilt his head in acknowledgment. Instead, his nostrils flared
and his eyes flashed with obvious temper.

Then…
he winked
.

Daphne jerked round, sinking against the seat cushion. Her lungs shriveled into currants,
and she could not breathe. If only she could disappear.

“Daphne, are you all right?” asked Clarissa. “You didn’t have the sausages this morning,
did you? After what happened three days ago, I just don’t trust them, and neither
should you.”

The viscountess reached to press a gloved hand over hers. “It’s all that silly talk
about being an Incomparable, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have made such a fuss. Please don’t
give it another thought.”

“I’m…fine.” But she wasn’t, oh, she wasn’t. She wanted to retch. He was there, somewhere
behind her. Perhaps watching, even now.

Ladies’ maids often went riding with their mistresses, but she feared she’d dressed
too fashionably to be believed as being in service. Her frilly parasol and a hat from
London’s finest milliner certainly gave her away. It was just as her older brother,
Vinson, had once teasingly foretold—her weakness for frippery would be her undoing.

Yet the park was enormous and packed full of riders, carriages, and pedestrians. Certainly
they wouldn’t cross paths again. She could hardly sit still in the carriage, because
she felt so trapped. But if she got out, how would she explain running away?

At the same time…the most exquisite excitement thrummed in her veins. She’d never
expected to see him again, and there, like a vision, he’d suddenly been.

Oh,
yes
. Yes. Yes!
Her heart rejoiced.

Oh, no, no, no.

At that moment they passed Lady Castlereagh’s barouche, which had stopped near a small
cluster of elms. Her Ladyship’s two bull mastiffs stood on the bench seats and woofed
at passersby. The more thickly wooded Kensington Gardens stood in the distance, across
the shimmering blue surface of the Serpentine. The lady stood in her carriage and
called to them. “There you are, Lady Harwick. And the Miss Bevingtons! Oh, do please
stop and visit.”

Daphne glanced around to be certain Cormack wasn’t two feet away, observing her real
name being declared for all the world to hear. He wasn’t, but who knew where he was?
Though the excitement of seeing him again thrilled her to her core, she had to make
sure they did not cross paths again. Perhaps he waited near the gates, knowing they
would eventually pass through to depart, and the longer they remained inside, lost
in the throng, the sooner he would lose interest and leave.

“Yes, Mother,” she blurted, hoping her expression gave away none of her desperation.
“Let’s do stop.”

Her Ladyship directed their driver to pull their conveyance to the side of the path.
There, numerous others had parked, and their occupants meandered across the grass,
conversing and laughing, an impromptu party. She even spied the Duke of Wellington
speaking to Fox. Stepping down, Daphne breathed a sigh of relief.

While her grandfather and parents had never made a practice of snobbishness, as some
members of the
ton
did, she could not deny being a member of a very small and elite group. She’d grown
up attending their children’s balls and Christmas parties, and now as a young lady,
she’d become a full-fledged member of their ranks. They all knew her name as she knew
all of theirs.

She delved into their midst, knowing Cormack, being a tradesman and without a title,
wasn’t one of them, and couldn’t breach their circle of exclusivity. Here, she’d be
protected from crossing paths with him. After speaking briefly with Lady Castlereagh,
she laughed with friends, compared parasols with the Aimsley sisters (who she knew
full well only pretended to be friendly so they could get closer to Fox), and smelled
Mrs. Danville’s purple hybrid roses, which she wore pinned in a fetching corsage high
on her shoulder—

Before seeing him through the trees.

He stood tall and beautiful, like something out of a romantic novel, the reins of
his mount clasped in one gloved hand. His eyes pierced her through, like a blade.

The most mortifying thing was that the moment Cormack had seen her in that fine carriage,
as beautiful and splendorous as a queen, his heart leapt like a smitten boy, even
as his rational mind realized her wicked deception.

I am a maid…

No
maid
wore a bonnet like that, an extravagant creation of flowers and ribbons.

…paying off a debt…

Her parasol alone, trimmed thick with ruched, variegated lace, had certainly cost
more than a cow.

…my father borrowed money…

All bloody false untruths. The truth was: she was one of
them
, a member of the same exclusive society that had for two years protected his sister’s
seducer.

And yet she had allowed him to rush off into the night like a heartsick suitor to
slay what he now suspected had been an imaginary dragon, and spend a minor fortune
in the process. And perhaps even laughed in delight as he had done it.

No, he had not been completely honest with her, having assumed his more recent past
as a saltpeter merchant like an old suit, but because he hadn’t wished to frighten
her any more than she already had been.

The moment he had seen her, everything had changed. He no longer felt one shred of
anything noble.

His lips mouthed two words.

Come here.

Though quite impossible, given the distance, Daphne felt certain she heard his voice
thunder inside her head, dangerous and commanding, even above the drumroll of her
pulse. She glanced away, pretending not to see him. Rejecting him outright. Heat rose
to her cheeks, and she inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm herself, trying to ease
the dizziness that made the world spin around her.

She looked again, praying he’d gone. But he was still there. His mouth moved once
more.

Now.

She thought her legs would collapse. They didn’t, but they shook instead and it took
every bit of her self-control not to fall to pieces in front of everyone else. Her
breath came in shallow bursts at the back of her throat as she frantically pondered
what to do.

Oh, but there was nothing to do but comply! His eyes boldly promised that if she did
not do as he commanded, then he would most certainly come to her. She could not have
that. He was a stranger, with no connections or formal introductions. No one knew
him. Everyone would see and have questions and then the gossip would begin and she
couldn’t shame her family like that, especially Clarissa, who had such a bright future.

Cormack had to be placated, and the damage contained. Which meant talking to him.
As discreetly as possible she withdrew from her circle of friends and made her way
behind the trees, forcing her feet to carry her across grass and a faintly worn footpath
until she stood four feet in front of him, which seemed to be a safe distance but
wasn’t, because his gaze incinerated her on the spot.