Sweet Enemy (26 page)

He presented Lady Jane to her mother. “Not only are you an accomplished musician,” he said, refraining from kissing Jane’s hand, “but a superb dancer, as well. Thank you for the pleasure.”

He nodded, then turned on his heel and departed, making straightaway for Liliana. He didn’t need to look back to see his mother’s face. He knew she’d be furious.

He cared not. On the surface, Liliana Claremont was absolutely wrong for him. But underneath, he was beginning to think she might be absolutely right. No, she’d never be the political hostess he’d need, but she could be a partner. A real partner. She and her passions made him feel alive. Her life’s work, as she put it, complemented his own and was inspiring in and of itself. They could accomplish much together. At least he knew that he could trust her. And if love did develop with a woman like that, would it be so awful? He didn’t know.

But there was only one way to find out, and as the strategy formed in his mind, it seemed the perfect way to thwart his mother’s plans while advancing his own.

He’d have to phrase things delicately. Liliana had made it clear she had no plans to marry, but what he had in mind could hurt her chances should she change her mind. Nor did she seem to be fond of others’ scrutiny, which his attentions to her would quite guarantee. On the other hand, Liliana was rather unconventional and most decidedly had her own mind. She may very well be open to his idea.

He certainly hoped so, as he wanted to get to know her a whole lot better, starting right this moment.

*    *    *

“Might I tempt you to join me in the Allemande, Liliana?” Geoffrey asked, bowing before her.

Liliana took a deep breath and gave him her most welcoming smile, though inside she was all aflutter. He’d noticed her the moment she’d entered the ballroom. She’d felt his gaze like a living thing, and whatever heat had caused his cobalt eyes to burn had warmed her blood until it tingled in her veins.

“The Allemande?” She placed her hand over her chest. If memory served, that particular dance wasn’t too vigorous. She shouldn’t have to worry about coming out of the top of her very
fashionable
bodice. “I think that should be safe,” she muttered.

Geoffrey’s lips curved up in smile.

He led her across the ballroom with its damask-covered walls and high ceilings. The multiple arched windows were open and covered in a gauzy material that floated with the light breeze. Liliana gave silent thanks for the cool night air, for it seemed that when she put her arm on Geoffrey’s, the temperature in the room spiked.

As they passed by the countess, a chill broke through Liliana’s flush and skittered down her back. Liliana nodded a greeting. Lady Stratford’s face remained cool, as usual, but her eyes flashed hostility. Liliana couldn’t contain the involuntary shiver.

As she and Geoffrey took their places facing each other at the end of the row of dancers, Geoffrey said, “I’m sorry about Mother. I’m afraid she’s not happy that I’ve chosen you to partner over her selection.”

“Is that why she’s taken a dislike to me?” Liliana asked, as casually as she could manage. Lady Stratford would certainly prefer that Geoffrey spend his time with Lady Jane rather than with her, but was that the true reason she’d been so cold to Liliana from the moment they’d first met?

Witherspoon’s story had shaken Liliana, throwing her thoughts into a jumble. Could the countess have been
the cause of her husband’s death? And if so, what, if anything, could that have to do with Papa’s murder?

Geoffrey stepped toward her, to the center of the aisle. Liliana started, remembering she was supposed to be dancing. She met him, touching her right hand to his as they bowed to each other. Even through her glove, the touch seemed intimate, and for a moment all of her attention focused squarely on Geoffrey.

“You look dashing tonight,” she blurted, then nearly clapped a hand over her mouth. She was such a ninny when she was distracted, too used to speaking her mind to remember to hold her tongue.

Geoffrey’s slow smile made the slip almost worth it. “Do I?” He leaned in close, and she caught a hint of mint. His voice deepened as they circled each other in the first steps of the dance. “Surely you know how ravishing you look tonight.”

Liliana was glad the dance called for her to turn away from him at that moment so he couldn’t see her blush. She’d never call herself
ravishing
, but she knew the blue of her dress accentuated her coloring well. She’d been mortified when the modiste had suggested it. The bodice was cut extremely low, and the high waist showcased her bosom. She’d almost refused it after the final fitting, but now, given the pleasure she got from the way Geoffrey looked at her, Liliana was fiercely glad Pen had made her order the little satin slip dress.

“You flatter me overmuch, Geoffrey,” she said as she turned a graceful figure eight around first him, then the woman next to her in the procession. Geoffrey followed suit with the gentleman next to him.

“I believe that is the first time you’ve used my name,” Geoffrey said, taking her hand as they twirled. He gave it a slight squeeze, drawing her gaze to his intense one. “The first of many times, I pray.”

Their hands touched and her forehead nearly grazed his. She could almost feel the vibration of his voice.

“I’ve come to like you very much, Liliana,” Geoffrey
murmured. “We have a great deal more in common than I’d imagined. And as to that, I have a proposition for you.”

Liliana was loath to move away from him into the figure eight that would once again advance them down the line. What could Geoffrey possibly mean, a proposition?

Finally, a gliding step brought her face-to-face with him. “A proposition?” she asked, but before he could answer, he had to turn away.

Blast this dance! Always moving one away from her partner. Liliana joined arms with the woman next to her perfunctorily, yet inside she bristled, anxious to return to her conversation with Geoffrey.

They met in the center, Geoffrey taking her hand for the twirl. “Well, as I see it, you and I have been done the same wrong,” he said, his voice dropping lower.

Liliana’s stomach clenched, the pressure so powerful it cut off her breath. All the while, the figure eight forced her away once again. He couldn’t mean their fathers. He couldn’t. Yes, he’d spoken to Witherspoon alone, but only for a moment. Surely not long enough for the man to relay his tale. Nor had Geoffrey seemed upset when he’d escorted her to the tea shop so she might return with the other ladies.

Liliana and Geoffrey met face-to-face, touching hands before turning away. Another loop with the neighbor woman, and Liliana again joined Geoffrey in the center. Best to act ignorant, not give away anything until she knew more. “I don’t understand.”

“My mother,” he said, shaking his head. As close as their foreheads were throughout the twirl, Liliana felt the air move counterpoint against her skin. “She’s put me in a regrettable position, I fear.”

“Yes,” Liliana murmured. She could certainly see where learning his mother may have killed his father would be regrettable. But why would Geoffrey say they had been done the same wrong?

Liliana sucked in a breath. Could he mean Lady Stratford had also been responsible for her father’s death?

“Just as your aunt has put you,” Geoffrey continued.

What? Liliana missed a step in the intricate dance and trod upon the foot of the woman next to her, who yelped in surprised outrage.

Liliana mumbled an apology and tried to recover. What had her aunt to do with anything?

“Your aunt brought you here hoping you might attract a husband,” he explained when next he moved close enough to keep their conversation private. “My mother has invited all of these women here in hopes that I might choose a bride. Neither of us wishes to comply. Therefore, I propose we band together.”

A hysterical giggle bubbled from Liliana’s lips, earning her more than one glance.

My goodness. What had she been thinking? It was just that after what she’d learned from Witherspoon, Geoffrey had surprised her with that “done the same wrong” statement, and then—

“Is something amiss?” Geoffrey asked, tilting his head with concern.

“No, no,” Liliana assured him. “Just embarrassed over my footing. Please, go on.”

“Well, I’d like you to agree to allow me to squire you exclusively for the remainder of the house party,” he said.

“You would…?” she said slowly.

“I would. It should sufficiently annoy my mother and perhaps satisfy your aunt into letting you alone. Unless…” Geoffrey narrowed his eyes, a frown setting like the sun over the horizon of his lips. “You don’t have hopes where Aveline is concerned, do you? I wouldn’t wish to interfere if you have an understanding with him.”

“What? No,” Liliana answered, marveling at the change in Geoffrey. His clenched jaw and rigid posture suggested he most certainly did wish to interfere with
such a thing. A feminine thrill uncoiled in Liliana, even though she had no business feeling it. “No. In fact, I received a note from Aveline just this afternoon explaining he’d been called to Town and wouldn’t return to Shropshire for some time. I don’t expect to see him again.”

Something about that still bothered Liliana, but she had far too many other mysteries to solve at the moment.

Geoffrey cleared his throat. “Good.”

Still, she should at least ask…“How well do you know Aveline?”

Geoffrey shot her an odd look but answered. “Well enough, I suppose. We’ve been neighbors for years, though I’ve been gone for well over a decade.”

That didn’t help much. “But would you consider yourselves friends?”

Geoffrey shrugged, though he seemed to be bristling from the line of questioning. “He’s a good enough man, as far as I remember. His mother was French, came over well before the Terror, but certainly because her family sensed what was coming. Aveline took a bit of ribbing over being half French after war broke out. It grew worse when he was detained in France for several years, along with other British tourists. Some questioned his loyalty,” he said, taking her hand once more as they entered the last movement. “But I don’t want to talk about Aveline. I’d rather discuss my proposal.”

The ending strains of the violins echoed through the air. Geoffrey turned Liliana in the final twirl.

“What do you think?” Geoffrey asked, settling her arm on his.

“I must consider for a moment,” Liliana said, mulling over his suggestion. Part of her found it difficult not to rub her hands together with satisfaction. Her chances of finally uncovering the truth behind her father’s death increased a hundredfold if she attached herself to Geoffrey. And yet, his exclusive attentions would be considered
by some to be tantamount to declaring himself. He’d been away for more than a decade and had probably not spent many years in the ballrooms. He might not understand that when they eventually parted, she would be the one looked at as tainted, as though something must have been wrong with her to lose Geoffrey’s regard. It would be her reputation ruined, if not actually, then practically.

Was learning the truth worth her future?

“I think it’s an excellent idea,” she answered.

“Splendid,” Geoffrey said, his slow smile lighting his face. Once again, Liliana’s breath caught, but this time for an entirely different reason.

A thought occurred to her. “Since we shall be spending so much time together, would you prefer me to give you your solitude on your morning ride?”

Geoffrey’s hand tightened over her forearm, almost as an involuntary response to keep her with him. “Of course not. In fact, I have plans for us at dawn,” he said.

The pleasure that had uncoiled in Liliana earlier now spread through her, pushing out the unease. She couldn’t stop it if she tried. She told herself what she felt was due to him falling so easily in with her own scheme. Liliana let out a little breath. She wasn’t even good at lying to herself.

“If you still wish to join me, that is,” Geoffrey amended, looking anxious for her answer.

Liliana gave him her most brilliant smile, surprised to realize she didn’t have to fake it at all.

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

S

Geoffrey strode another circuit around Amira’s stall. Of course Liliana wasn’t late. They hadn’t set a time to meet, after all, and the sun had barely pinkened the farthest horizon. It was only that he’d been dressed and at the stables since well before dawn, driven out of his bed by lustful dreams of the very woman he suddenly couldn’t seem to wait a moment longer to see.

Whoever would have thought the Allemande could be so bloody sensual? Why the patronesses of Almack’s thought they should dictate which young debutantes possessed strong enough moral convictions to waltz while blithely allowing anyone and everyone to dance the Allemande, he couldn’t say. The waltz was tame when compared to the slow glide of the Allemande—the touching of hands, the leaning so close one seemed enveloped by one’s partner’s scent…

Geoffrey cleared his throat. Indeed, an Allemande with Liliana had proven much more dangerous than a hundred waltzes with the likes of Lady Jane or Lady Emily. He supposed with the right person—