Sally MacKenzie Bundle (15 page)

“Lizzie.”

She startled and turned to him. Damned if she didn’t blush. She looked guilty. He narrowed his gaze. Were there leaves in her hair?

What the bloody hell had she been doing with Tynweith?

He looked at the man. Tynweith lifted an eyebrow and smiled slightly. Self-satisfied devil. He would kill him right where he stood. Immediately. The man did not merit a challenge.

“Ah, Westbrooke. I see you survived your musical experience.”

“You are holding Lady Elizabeth’s hand.”

Tynweith made a show of looking down. “Why, so I am. Do you object, Lady Elizabeth?”

Lizzie’s eyes darted to Robbie and back to her hand. She flushed.

“No, Lord Tynweith. I do not object.” Her voice got a little louder. “Lord Westbrooke apparently believes he is my brother, the way he meddles in my affairs.”

Robbie saw a red haze. He wondered if his jaw might shatter, his teeth were clenched so tightly. “I do not think I am your brother.”

Lizzie shrugged. “Chaperone, then.”

“You need a chaperone. Lady Beatrice is totally incompetent for the task as evidenced by your presence here, in this shadowy corridor with
him.
”

“Don’t insult Lord Tynweith. He is our host—our generous, attentive host.”

“Generous? Attentive? What kind of attentive?” In two seconds—less—he was going to plant his fist in Tynweith’s face. He’d so enjoy seeing that self-satisfied smirk erupt in blood.

“Lord Westbrooke? Are you there?”

Damn. Lady Felicity had tracked him down. Didn’t she believe in giving a man a few minutes of privacy to visit the necessary? She sounded close. He glanced over his shoulder. She wasn’t in sight yet.

“Perhaps you two would like a moment to discuss your differences?” Tynweith smiled. “I will be happy to deal with Lady Felicity.”

Perhaps Tynweith wasn’t such a bad fellow after all—though if he had harmed one hair on Lizzie’s head, he would pay for it.

“Splendid. Come on, Lizzie.”

Lizzie had turned very red. “I really don’t think—”

“Lord Westbrooke?” Felicity’s voice echoed down the corridor.

“I believe Lady Felicity is almost upon us.” Tynweith gestured toward the door behind him. “You really have no time to waste.”

“Right.” Robbie was not risking another encounter with Felicity. He grabbed Lizzie’s arm.

“Let me go!”

“Will you keep your voice down? Do you
want
Felicity to find us?”

“Perhaps I do. Perhaps I prefer Lady Felicity’s company to yours.”

“Perhaps you are lying. You can’t stand Lady Felicity.”

“Oh, so now you are telling me what I think?”

“Lord Westbrooke, where are you?”

Robbie looked over his shoulder again. Felicity must be just around the corner. In a second, she’d be on them.

“You may hide in the conservatory.” Lizzie crossed her arms. “I am staying with Lord Tynweith.”

“For God’s sake—”

“Lady Elizabeth”—Tynweith interrupted Robbie—“might you be losing sight of your, um, goals here?”

Lizzie turned red. “I can’t take him in
there.
” She tilted her head at the conservatory door.

“And why not?” Suspicion and anger surged in Robbie again. “You were in there with Tynweith.”

“Westbrooke, you’ve run out of time.”

Robbie looked back again. Damn. He saw Felicity’s slipper. In less than a second, the rest of her would follow and he’d be well and truly caught.

He yanked Lizzie into the conservatory, shutting the door on Tynweith’s chuckle.

What would Robbie say if he saw Tynweith’s statue?

“Let’s sit here to talk.” Lizzie pointed to the stone bench on the landing.

“Is that where you sat with Tynweith?”

Lizzie felt her cheeks flush.

“I didn’t think so. You were very hesitant to let me in here. I want to know why.” Robbie started for the steps. Lizzie grabbed his arm.

“I’m certain you’d be more comfortable on the bench.”

“Lizzie, get it into your head that I am not sitting on that blasted bench. Why don’t you just show me what has you turning five shades of red? I’m going to find it anyway.”

No. She could not show him Tynweith’s obscene statue. She would die of mortification.

“Am I red? It must be the heat.” She fanned herself with her free hand. “It’s cooler up here. Come, sit on the bench.”

“No.” He peeled her fingers off his sleeve and descended the stairs.

Lizzie followed him. Could she stop him if she grabbed hold of his coattails or would he just drag her along behind him?

“There really is nothing of interest here, Robbie. Meg or Mr. Parker-Roth might enjoy spending some time studying the vegetation, but I never thought you had a keen interest in botany.”

“I don’t.” He stopped and picked a leaf out of her hair. “And I didn’t think you did, either. Apparently, I was mistaken.” He let the leaf flutter to the ground and turned away. Thank God he was headed in the opposite direction from the embarrassing statue.

“What were you talking to Tynweith about?”

“Oh, nothing.” Once she had convinced the baron that she did not want to engage in any amorous activities, he had proved quite rational. He’d proposed various plans to make their respective love interests jealous. Not that she approved of Lord Tynweith trying to make another man’s wife jealous, of course. And some of his notions were rather distasteful. And risky. If they didn’t prod Robbie to offer for her, she might well find herself compelled to marry Tynweith. She shuddered. Robbie turned back to face her.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” She was certainly not going to tell Robbie a word of her conversation with their host. “I have a chill.”

“How can you have a chill? You just said you were over warm.”

“Well, I was chilled just then.” She knew how to end this conversation. “It’s a female matter.”

“Oh.” Robbie flushed. “I see. Well.” He clasped his hands behind his back and frowned. “You still haven’t told me what you were talking to Tynweith about.”

“He merely wished to return my brooch. He found it in the garden this afternoon.”

“Oh? Where in the garden?”

“Where do you think?” How could the man mention the garden in that tone, as if he were accusing her of something? He was the one who had taken outrageous liberties without honorable intentions.

Maybe she didn’t want to make him jealous. Maybe she would just strangle him with a handy vine. And now the man was glowering at her.

“You’ve been busy today, haven’t you? Does James know you make a habit of entertaining men in the bushes?”

“What?!” God give her strength, she
was
going to murder him. “You are the only man I’ve visited the shrubbery with, much to my chagrin.”

Robbie snorted. “Come, Lizzie, I am not a complete slowtop. You had leaves in your hair just now. You came to this very private location with our host—or are you telling me Tynweith forced you?”

“Of course not, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Lizzie, if Tynweith just wished to return your brooch, he would have done so in the music room. Putting his hand in his pocket does not require this privacy. Putting his hand elsewhere, well…”

“Stop it!” She had to clasp her own hands together to keep from slapping him.

“But what I can’t understand is why you didn’t want to let me come in here. Tynweith is gone. What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” Lizzie took a step toward the door. “Surely Lady Felicity has departed. I believe I will go up to bed.”

“Just a minute. What’s over here?” Robbie wandered down a path next to a large fern.

“Nothing.” Lizzie followed him. She was safe. The offending statue was on the other side of the conservatory. “Will you come along? You are as bad as a terrier in search of a badger hole.”

“I am not—oh.”

“What?”

Lizzie pushed up next to Robbie.

“Oh, my.”

Tynweith had more than one unusual statue in his conservatory.

Chapter Eight

“What are they doing?”

“Nothing.” Robbie grabbed Lizzie’s arm and started to turn her away. She resisted.

“They are obviously doing
something.
” She studied the sculpture. The man might be the twin of the fellow she had backed into across the way. He had his hands on a woman’s shoulders and his face was contorted in what looked to be pain. No wonder. The woman, crouched at his feet, had her mouth around the tip of his poor swollen, um…

“Is she
biting
him?”

“No, she is not biting him.”

Robbie sounded very odd, as if he were strangling. Lizzie looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed. His ears were red. He would not meet her eye.

“How do you know? He looks like he’s in pain.”

“He is not in pain.”

“Are you certain?” Lizzie examined the artwork again.

“For God’s sake, Lizzie, it’s only a statue. A tasteless, obscene statue. Tynweith should be drawn and quartered for exposing you to it.”

“He didn’t expose me to this one.” The man did have a very odd expression. She’d never seen anything like it. If it wasn’t pain, what was it?

Robbie rubbed his forehead. “There are others?”

“At least one other. That’s why I didn’t want you to come in here. But this statue is much more interesting than the one I saw with Tynweith.”

“It is
not
interesting.”

“I think it is. I have never encountered an artwork like it.” Lizzie thought about her tour of the garden that afternoon. “Hmm. On second thought, perhaps I have. Do you suppose Tynweith’s gardener uses these statues as inspiration? I have to say, stone is a much better medium than vegetation.”

“Lizzie!” Robbie took her firmly by the shoulders and turned her toward the main path. “We are leaving right now. I am sorry I didn’t take your hint immediately and stay by the door. Why didn’t you just tell me it was unwise to venture into the foliage?”

“I doubt you would have listened. You were quite determined, if you will recall.”

Lizzie’s thoughts strayed to their other excursion into the leafage. She had thoroughly enjoyed those activities—before the unpleasant ending, of course.

She slowed her steps.

Meg had told her to avoid any tête-à-têtes with Robbie, but she had not been given a choice this time. And after her experience with Tynweith, she doubted she could convince anyone she was interested in another man.

Lady Beatrice’s plan was more appealing.

Could she cause Robbie to become addicted to her by giving him some kisses, some cuddling? This was a perfect location to engage in those activities. Once he was suitably addicted, he would marry her, and once the knot was tied, he would realize he belonged with her. He would be happy. It was just a matter of getting that thought through his thick skull.

So, where could she persuade him to repeat his actions of the afternoon? Not on the landing—that would be too exposed if Tynweith should happen to come back. However, there were a variety of lovely shadowy places at hand, little nooks framed by potted trees and draped in flowering vines. Surely not all of them were occupied by inappropriate artwork.

“Look at that lovely flower, Robbie.”

“I am not interested in flowers.”

Yes, it was fortunate she had come to the conservatory with Tynweith. There was something about being presented with a real flesh and blood man in an isolated location that clarified one’s thinking. The thought of being held against Tynweith’s body, of kissing him—she shivered. Repulsive.

“Are you cold again? Perhaps you should consult a physician.” Robbie turned red again. “I’ve never heard of, um, female complaints causing so many temperature changes. Are you quite certain you don’t have a fever?”

“I do not have a fever.” She stopped. Yes, being presented with a flesh and blood man in an isolated location definitely clarified one’s thinking. She knew exactly what she wished to do with this particular specimen, and she’d found the perfect spot in which to do it. She tugged him in the desired direction.

“How do you know anything about female complaints? You don’t have any sisters.”

Embarrassment must have clouded his thinking. He went with her without a protest.

Tynweith was of the opinion Robbie
was
strongly attracted to her, and Tynweith was a male, after all. He should have a better understanding than any female of the mysterious workings of Robbie’s mind. But then why hadn’t Robbie offered for her? He’d had the perfect opportunity—several perfect opportunities—to do so. Tynweith had had no satisfactory answer to that question.

She would give Robbie another opportunity now to offer for her—or at least to become more addicted to her.

“I don’t know anything. It just stands to reason. If all females were prone to such temperature changes, they’d be donning and shedding their shawls constantly.”

“Hmm.” This was definitely the perfect spot for giving Robbie a teasing taste. And for taking a taste herself. A large broad-leaved plant shielded them from prying eyes. But how should she initiate the activity? She couldn’t very well fall against him as she had this afternoon.

“I suppose you have a point. Perhaps you should feel my forehead. Is it unnaturally warm?”

He touched her with the back of his hand. She put her hands on his lapels. His body was so hard, so different from hers. She ran her fingers over the cloth. It was very much in the way. She wished she had his skin under her fingers instead. The cloth was rough; his skin had been warm and smooth. Wonderful. She drew in a deep breath. His musky, spicy scent mixed with the smell of flowers, leaves, and earth.

“No.” Robbie’s voice was slightly husky. “You feel quite cool to the touch.”

“That’s odd. I feel very hot. Perhaps you should feel my cheeks, too.”

His hand moved down to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking over her skin.

She turned her head to brush her lips over his palm. She set her fingers to work on his waistcoat buttons.

“You are not overly warm.” His voice was definitely husky.

“Are you certain? I think my temperature must be rising.”

She spread his waistcoat open and ran her hands over his shirt. This was better. Not as good as skin, but better than the armor of his waistcoat. She could feel the strong beat of his heart, the heat of his body.