The Valentine's Day Ball (6 page)

“Very well. Just remember we leave at ten.”

“I look forward to it, Lord Devlin.”

Drew sat staring at the fire for some time after the oily Mr. Havelock had left. But his thoughts were not on their late conversation. Instead, he puzzled over Miss Lindsay.

How had such an intriguing young woman managed to escape matrimony during her Seasons in London? For surely she had at least one since Miss Pettigrew was to have hers. Did Miss Jane Lindsay not care for gentlemen? But that was impossible—though she might deny it, she had certainly enjoyed their encounters, even that passionate kiss they had exchanged.

And though he had been able to tell she lacked experience, still she must have been kissed before or she would have been too shocked by his passion to return it. And she had definitely returned his kiss.

Drew drank deeply of his port. He would have to quit thinking about Miss Lindsay; she was too unsettling, both to his mind and his body. Standing, he set his glass deliberately on the mantel and strode from the room and out of the house, startling his new butler.

A brisk walk by the river would soon cure his physical and mental preoccupation with the enticing Miss Jane Lindsay.

b

“Jane! What are we to do?” Cherry flung open Jane’s door quite unannounced.

Jane looked up from her dressing table and exchanged an amused look with Tucker who was arranging Jane’s long, straight hair in a becoming snood.

“Do sit down, Cherry, and tell me what has occurred to make you so out of breath. You look positively blown.”

Anxiously, Cherry bent down and surveyed her beautiful face in the mirror. Satisfied that she still appeared to advantage, she pulled up a nearby chair. “The most dreadful thing has happened; Lord Pierce and his sister Mary have come to call.”

“Dreadful? Is that really you speaking?”

“Surely you can’t have forgotten! We are to have a picnic today, this very morning, with Lord Devlin!”

“And Cousin Roland,” added Jane dryly.

“Yes, yes, of course,” said Cherry impatiently. “What are we to do with Lord Pierce and Mary?”

“We could lock them out and not let them in.”

“Now you are making fun of me,” said Cherry, the pout on her lips only enhancing her beauty.

“Pray, don’t be a goose. We shall invite them along, of course. I feel certain Mary would like to go, and you know how Lord Pierce feels about being in your company.”

Cherry frowned, considering this new situation.

“Besides,” said Jane, “you have nothing to fear in the way of competition from the sweet—but let us be frank—plain Mary Aubrey.” Jane let this bit of information sink in before continuing. The addition of two more people on their outing could only improve it. “Furthermore, I should think you would revel in the attentions of two handsome bachelors vying for your consideration all day long.”

There, that had done it. Cherry’s frown vanished and was replaced by an expression that could only be compared to the cat that had drunk the cream.

“I shall send word to Cook so she may add to the feast, and then I’ll go and ask Lord Pierce and Mary. They will be delighted with the scheme!”

Jane shook her head as her cousin disappeared in a flurry of silk.

“You know how much I love my cousin, Tucker, but I daresay it will be much more peaceful around here when she and my aunt leave for London next month.”

“Amen to that,” said the old retainer.

When Jane entered the gold salon fifteen minutes later, she found all their guests waiting. She was conscious of all eyes turning her way and felt relieved she had chosen her hunter-green riding habit; its manly cut masked her generous bosom and gave her confidence.

Greeting each guest in turn, she sat beside Mary Aubrey. “You look very elegant these days, Mary. I must compliment you on your choice of colour. It is very becoming.”

Mary Aubrey might be plain, but she was neither vain nor stupid. She smiled and thanked her, adding, “I do hope we are not intruding but Peter would go, you know.” She nodded to the window embrasure where Cherry was seated, Lord Pierce standing over her, hanging on every word.

Jane laughed quietly. “I am happy to have you, for now I’ll have someone to talk to at luncheon.”

Lord Devlin, who had been following their conversation, said with exaggerated gallantry, “Fie, Miss Lindsay, as though you would be neglected. I swear you are fishing for compliments.”

Jane silently thanked him for not saying “again,” for she would not have put it past him to embarrass her.

“Now we need not worry about anyone feeling neglected.” Jane rose to her feet. “We had better be going. I do hope the weather holds.”

“It
must
,” pronounced Lord Pierce dramatically then blushed as all eyes turned toward him and Miss Pettigrew.

Somehow—Jane felt certain it was Cherry’s doing—it was decided that Miss Aubrey and Cousin Roland should ride in his phaeton while Cherry accompanied Lord Pierce in his equipage.

Jane stood impatiently with her horse as all this was arranged. She chanced a look at Lord Devlin and his lips were twisted in a sardonic smile. He caught her eye and issued a silent invitation as he raised his riding crop and pointed at the hillside. Jane caught her lower lip between her teeth, debating.

Should she ride to the abbey cross-country even though it meant being alone with Lord Devlin? Or would it be wiser to endure the tedium of following the road behind two phaetons, one driven by her ham-handed Cousin Roland?

She looked from the carriages to the viscount. With that wicked raised brow, he challenged her to accept his invitation.

“You enjoy your drive. Lord Devlin and I are going cross-country. We’ll meet you at the abbey,” called Jane as she signalled Sinbad to be off, not risking anyone questioning the propriety of what she was doing, especially her own conscience.

Once again, Lord Devlin had led her to act in a manner contrary to her true nature. What was it about the man that she ceased to behave herself?

The question haunted her as she galloped up the hill and sailed over the first fence. She could hear Lord Devlin’s horse right behind her. When it felt as if she was running from the man, she deliberately slowed Sinbad to a sedate trot and let his lordship come abreast of her.

“You are an intrepid rider, Miss Lindsay. Not many women I know would even attempt such a jump, downhill as it is.”

“I have gone over it so often, I suppose I have forgotten the times when I didn’t quite make it. I notice you didn’t hesitate, Lord Devlin.”

“And have you think me a coward as well as ungentlemanly? I should think not!”

She caught the gleam in his eyes and shook her head.

“You can’t fool me, Lord Devlin. You enjoyed that run and the jump. I believe you enjoy many things that others might consider dangerous or even outrageous.”

“Analysing me, Miss Lindsay? I didn’t realize you were so intrigued.”

Jane glared at his back as he sent his mount forward in a mighty leap. She jerked back on Sinbad’s reins then rubbed his neck to apologize. “Sorry, old boy, but I want to see how far he’ll go before he realizes he has no idea which direction to take.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she watched the aggravating Lord Devlin pull up his horse. He turned in the saddle, bowed to her, and arched that brow in inquiry. She could not refrain from a smirk as she sent Sinbad forward.

They rode in silence for some time, but it was not an awkward silence. Jane glanced at Lord Devlin’s profile; it was obvious that he was enjoying the morning just as she was. The beauty of the countryside, the warmth of the sun, and the glory of being on horseback always filled Jane with an unsurpassed contentment.

Even with the odious Lord Devlin at her side. But perhaps odious was too harsh. After all, his sense of humour did seem in harmony with hers most of the time.

And perhaps he had sensed her reluctance to join the others on the circuitous route mandated by the vehicles. His suggestion to ride by the more direct route had been very welcome.

“How is it that you are unmarried?”

So much for thinking Lord Devlin a kindred soul.

“I was wondering the same thing about you, Lord Devlin,” she responded sweetly.

He laughed. “I suppose I deserve that, but you were forewarned not to expect the usual social drivel from me.”

“Was I? How careless of me to forget. That accounts, no doubt, for the fact that I decided to ride to the abbey with only your conversation for company.”

“Touché! But you still have not answered my question. Never asked?”

“Of course, I was asked,” snapped Jane. “Any female standing to inherit a lucrative estate like Heartland would receive countless proposals.”

“All honourable, to be sure. Perhaps that accounts for your single state?”

“You, sir, are insufferable! Did you ask me to ride with you only to insult me?”

Immediately, Jane regretted the question for one could never tell how he might respond. He seemed poised to attack but didn’t. Jane held her breath, waiting for his response.

“Actually no, but I could tell that you, like myself, were not looking forward to a slow, dusty ride. Was I right?”

“Yes, Lord Devlin, and I should thank you instead of attack you.” Jane smiled, pleased; she was once again the calm, poised Miss Lindsay. But she was being premature; she reckoned without the maddening Lord Devlin who positively enjoyed provoking her.

“You appear quite bitter about your unmarried state, Miss Lindsay. But not everyone is a fortune hunter. And I fear you underestimate your personal charms.”

“I know enough to realize when I am being offered Spanish coin, Lord Devlin. I do own a mirror, and I am able to see that while my looks do not repel, I am hardly a suitable model for a Dresden figurine like my cousin Cherry.”

He pulled up his horse to take an impersonal inventory of her while she fumed silently.

“Are you quite finished?” she said after a moment.

“Yes, and I do believe you exaggerate the matter, my dear Miss Lindsay. As a man, give me leave to tell you your charms alone would be enough to make many a man choose to shackle himself for life.”

“I have given you no such leave, sir,” said Jane. “But, perhaps I might make just a small observation about you?”

He nodded, his demeanour serious, but Jane had the feeling he was laughing at her. Nevertheless, she plunged ahead with what was intended to be a scathing set down.

“While your appearance might be well enough, Lord Devlin, your manners leave a great deal to be desired. I suggest that you engage a tutor who might help you remember how a member of the
ton
should comport himself. After your lengthy—shall we merely say journeys?—you have perhaps forgotten what good manners are.”

His face hardened.

“Ah, I see we have hit a tender spot, but I am certain you admire my candour.”

The smile he turned on Jane was anything but admiring. She found it difficult not to shiver. Inwardly, she cursed herself for stooping as low as he had, but she refused to show this.

His eyes glittered dangerously, and his voice held a deceptive sweetness. “You know, Miss Lindsay, you are an unusual female. If you were not so wealthy, you would have made an excellent headmistress. I wonder, have you instructed Miss Pettigrew in the detection of fortune hunters? But, I may be in error. Perhaps Miss Pettigrew’s case is different. Is she also an heiress? If so, I wonder that you are allowing her a Season in London.”

When Jane had found words again, she said quietly, “Never mind about Miss Pettigrew, Lord Devlin. She is only wealthy in charm and beauty. And despite the impression she gives, she is an extremely good judge of character.”

“Oh, that is a relief. Still, I believe I’ll just keep an eye on her when I go to London.”

He rode ahead. Jane urged Sinbad to catch up with the other horse then she leaned over and grabbed his reins. Lord Devlin quickly halted his mount, his eyes never leaving her offending hand.

“No need for theatrics if you wish a word with me, my dear Miss Lindsay.”

Through gritted teeth, Jane said, “Cherry is not for you, Lord Devlin, fortune hunter or no. Stay away from her.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yes,” she replied. “And I am not your
dear Miss Lindsay
!”

To Jane’s relief, the abbey was in sight and she could ride ahead, leaving Lord Devlin to follow along at an easier pace.

Jane had known all along what Devlin’s motives were, despite his seeming attention to her. He was digging for information about Cherry. Well, now he knew Cherry would not bring wealth to her marriage. Hopefully this would deter him from making a nuisance of himself. Jane wondered if Lord Devlin stood to inherit wealth along with the title of the Earl of Cheswick. She devoutly hoped not, for Cherry would be less likely to be intrigued by a penniless Lord Devlin, despite his delightful smile and his ability to charm when he wished.

b

Drew was thoughtful in her wake. He had not meant to nettle Miss Lindsay—quite the opposite. But she was so infuriatingly sure of herself, he simply hadn’t been able to resist.

And now he had lost ground. He had meant to charm her. She loved Heartland; she would never consider selling it to someone she despised. And despite what Havelock had said, Drew felt certain he could convince her to sell. After all, what woman would enjoy the aggravation of managing such a vast estate alone? Despite his gallant assertions to Miss Lindsay that she was a “young lady”, she was still old enough to be considered on the shelf. It was unlikely there was a husband in her future.

But now he would have to retrench and try another tack. If he couldn’t charm the belligerent Miss Lindsay, perhaps Miss Pettigrew might provide some useful weapon in his campaign to gain Heartland.

Besides, Miss Lindsay had clearly issued a challenge, and he had never failed to pick up the gauntlet, even when it had meant a duel. Drew set aside that particular remembrance. It, too, had been issued by a lady. No—the title hadn’t really applied to that female.

b

By the time Jane reached the abbey, she was willing to admit she had spoken harshly when Lord Devlin had clearly been in a jesting mood. Since apologizing went against the grain, Jane decided to act as though nothing had happened.

Therefore, as they waited for the others to arrive, she explained what she knew about the abbey to his lordship who gave every evidence of being sincerely interested.

“The abbey dates back to the times of the Saxons. It was built around the time of the original Abbey Church of St. Peter and St. Paul in Bath.”

“How can you be certain?”

“My father discovered a sealed underground crypt. It contained not only the remains of this abbey’s most distinguished monk but also some important documents. Most had rotted away, but there was enough evidence to lend credence to my father’s theory about the age of the structure. It was quite exciting. My father was so thrilled when the Antiquarian Society sent members down here to investigate. And when they agreed with him, he was in high alt.”