A Matter of Circumstance and Celludrones (6 page)

William had already turned to go before Evelyn remembered what Lord
Adair had been saying. “Oh, and William, you may as well bring Ana and Lady
Lily’s trunks. I’d say Lord Adair has exerted more than enough of himself for
one day.”

The rascal was on his way out when Evelyn reached the drawing room.
“There’s no need to rush off,” she informed him. “I’ve sent my driver for Lady
Lily’s things.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve other pressing matters to attend.” His apologetic
smile was somewhat off, and then he turned to Lily. “I’d like to stop by your
house anyway, if you have no objections?”

Lily hesitated, a protest forming on her lips. But Evelyn must have
read her friend wrongly because a moment later Lily said, “I’m sure there’s no
reason to check up on anything, but I suppose it can do no harm.”

After beckoning a hovering footman to see Lord Adair out, Evelyn
crossed to the sideboard. She poured a small sherry for Lily and a large brandy
for herself. “Your butler seems to think Lord Adair abducted you,” she threw
out.

“Oh my word,” gasped Lily. “With everything that’s happened, I
completely forgot about poor Halver.”

“He’s kept it hushed and William will set him straight.” She handed
Lily the glass of sherry and moved to the sofa. “I can hardly wait to hear
exactly what poor Halver did see.”

Lily took a long sip before replying. “A mouse.”

“A mouse,” Evelyn repeated flatly.

“There was a mouse.” Lily perched on the far end of the sofa, not once
meeting Evelyn’s sceptical gaze. “I screamed and jumped into Lord Adair’s
arms.” Another extremely long sip. “Lord Adair carried me outside to get some
fresh air.”

“And since you were already outside, you decided you may as well go
for an afternoon ride in Green Park.”

“It was such a lovely, warm day?” Lily peered over the rim of her
glass with large, hopeful eyes.

Evelyn blew out an exasperated breath. “You don’t honestly expect me
to believe this
flottersnip
?”

The doe-eyed look dissolved. “You’re Mistress Spontaneity. I thought
you, of all people, would understand.”

“And I might, if you weren’t Mistress Propriety.”

“We’ve been friends for so many years, you were bound to start rubbing
off on me.”

Evelyn gave in gracefully. “Every lady is entitled to her secrets.”

Whatever had happened, and she was convinced something had, Lily had
clearly forgiven Lord Adair if she was going to these ridiculous lengths to
spare his name.

Evelyn sipped on her brandy as she mused on that.

Had Lily developed a
tendre
for the Scotsman?

The liquid burned a delicious path down her throat and her thoughts
turned wicked. And why not? She’d been trying to woo Lily over to the dark side
for weeks and here was an opportunity begging to be taken advantage of.

“That smile usually means trouble.”

“Not at all.” Evelyn’s smile widened. “I’m simply enjoying the
prospect of this new, impetuous you.”

Lily nibbled on her lower lip. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“
Au contraire
, we must go as far as possible and I know the
perfect place to start.” She drained her brandy and set the glass down on a
side table. “It’s decided. You’re joining William and me tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not. You know how I deplore—”

“You cannot have it both ways. Either I’m rubbing off on you or Lord
Adair has been involved in some or other reprehensible act and if that’s the
case, I won’t stop digging until I hit the bottom of his scandalous pit.”

“You’re blackmailing me?”

“I’m helping you embrace your new-found sense of adventure.”

“A pea’s a pea, whatever name you call it, but it won’t work, Evie. I
know you haven’t a mean bone and here I am, asking you to leave Lord Adair be.”

“That’s unfair.”

“No more so than your eternal badgering.”

Evelyn hesitated before speaking. She hated revealing that she was
aware of the full extent of her husband’s objections, even to her closest
friend. Once the words were out, she just knew they’d be back to nip at her
skirts the moment she most needed to pretend ignorance.
But when all else
fails, the truth must out.
“Devon’s being stuffy about everything and I
need a collaborator.”

“You have William.”

“Devon considers him to be the main instigator.” She leaned forward
and took Lily’s hand in hers. “You’re the matron of morals and etiquette and
everything proper. Devon thoroughly approves. He won’t be able to raise a
single objection once he learns of your involvement.”

“Except I happen to share your husband’s point of view.” Lily’s voice
softened. “Are you two quarrelling over this?”

“Devon doesn’t quarrel,” Evelyn said grumpily. She sat back and folded
her arms. “He lays down the law and assumes the moon and stars will instantly
align to do his bidding.”

“Ah, I begin to see. When you asked me to refrain from mentioning
risqué sports, it was because he has forbidden your participation.”

“Not exactly,” Evelyn hedged. “He forbade me to engage in any further
steam-propelled canoe racing, but this is air-paddling. We don’t go anywhere
near water.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “He’ll be furious when he discovers that you’re
defying him.”

“Not nearly as furious as I’ll be if he tries to stop all my fun.”
He’d put his foot down in Surrey and, sooner or later, he’d learn that she’d
simply danced around it. “I don’t want to be at odds with my husband, Lily.
Marriage is a compromise and when he sees I have your support, he’ll have to
yield.”

“I’m not sure that’s how marriage or compromise works.”

“Lily…” she pleaded.

“Very well,” Lily sighed. “I’ll be your champion, although Lord knows
I shouldn’t be encouraging you.”

“Wonderful,” Evelyn said, her spirits instantly restored. “Don’t say
anything to him yet, though. We need to plan a slow invasion.”

Two footmen entered, one pushing the tea trolley and the other
bringing a note for Evelyn. She recognised Devon’s handwriting and opened it at
once.

“Devon won’t be joining us tonight. The session of Parliament has
overrun,” she summarised for Lily, “and he intends to call a meeting at the War
Office directly afterward.”

She stood and folded the note, glancing at the footman standing duty
behind the tea trolley. “We’ll serve ourselves, thank you, George. Please
inform Mrs. Heckle his lordship will not be dining at home tonight. Lady Lily
and I will take an informal supper upstairs in the Oriental sitting room.”

Evelyn’s eyes fluttered open at the soft click of the door opening.
She yawned and stretched, and the book she’d been reading tipped from her lap.

Devon spun about. His gaze landed on her and the grin that had stolen
her heart from the very beginning tugged at his mouth. “I thought you were fast
asleep in your own bed.”

“I wanted to wait up for you.” She uncurled her legs from the
armchair, pulling her wrap closer around her shoulders as she leaned over to pick
the book up. “I assume the meeting at the War Office means your Dirigible Fleet
Bill wasn’t passed.”

Devon had been appointed Secretary of Alternative and New Threats last
year. The position was held in tandem with that of the traditional War
Secretary and had been designated to keep Britain abreast of the modern
technologies sweeping the continent.

“I was making headway until the queen graced us with her presence. Her
speech was short and to the point. Britain’s power has always been at sea and
the two Customs airships already in service are sufficient.” He tugged his
cravat loose and undid the top buttons of his shirt as he crossed to his
wardrobe. “Replacing our navy with a dirigible fleet would be disastrous and
the Crown cannot afford both.”

“Queen Victoria is wholly opposed to anything modern,” Evelyn said in
disgust. “What of Lord Palmerston? Our queen and prime minister have an
abhorrent dislike for each other.”

“In this, they have finally found common ground. They are both so
short-sighted, an attack from the skies is beyond their vision. Europe has been
at peace since Napoleon, but the advancement of airships elsewhere,
particularly in the East, leave our borders vulnerable on all fronts.” Devon
stripped his shirt and bent to remove his shoes. “One way or another, England
will have her Dirigible Fleet. I won’t stop until I see it done.”

Evelyn didn’t doubt it.

After she’d turned down her third and final proposal last season, her
father had ordered she reconsider or he’d reduce her allowance to a tuppence
and ship her off to live with Aunt Mary in the bowels of Surrey. To prove she’d
not be threatened into marriage, Evelyn had written her aunt of her own accord
and arranged to spend Christmas there. Her short adjourn was a study in irony,
since she’d returned early in January, betrothed to the duke next door. She’d
fallen heart over head in love with his sharp wit, kind blue eyes and devilish
grin.

He’d declared then and there that he had to have her and refused to
wait.

She’d insisted on a reasonable betrothal period and a summer wedding.

A whirlwind month later, she’d been wedded and thoroughly bedded to a
man who had a stubborn streak that was as devilish as his grin.

She’d lost her heart completely, but she wasn’t about to lose the rest
of herself in the fogbank of his autocratic whims. To use his sentiments,
one
way or another
, her husband would have to learn to appreciate the woman he
fell in love with.

Devon straightened and turned to her. Evelyn’s gaze slid over his
naked chest and lingered. He was tall and lean, and she could attest to every
inch of his body feeling as rock-hard as it looked.

“When you look at me like that,” he said, his voice low and gruff,
“you set fire to my blood.”

He advanced slowly, his eyes darkening with desire. He reached the end
of the bed and held out a hand to her.

Evelyn went willingly. Her wrap slipped forgotten to the floor as she
walked into his arms. His mouth descended over hers in a kiss that skittered
heat through her veins. She stretched her full length against him, pushing her
fingers through his short hair. She loved the feel of his body, hard and warm
through the sheer cotton of her nightgown.

When his kisses trailed down her throat, his bristled jaw raked
pleasure across her sensitive skin and she almost purred.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips moving over the curve of
her shoulder. “I’ll never get my full.”

He pulled back, his arms looped around her waist, and looked deep into
her eyes. “I love you, darling. You embrace life with a passion that tripped my
heart the day we met and every new day I fall a little harder. You are my
world.”

His thigh nudged her legs apart and he lowered her backward over the
bed. Just in time, because his words seemed to have melted every bone in her
body.

“I love you, too,” she whispered as he came over her. “We’ll keep
falling together and never hit the ground.”

This, everything she was feeling right now, from her melted bones to
her bursting heart, made up the list of reasons why she didn’t want to be at
odds with her husband.

Chapter Five

S
outh
and East London Assembly of Risqué Sports.
The fairly innocuous banner had
been strung over the Sungate Lodge entrance of the new Battersea Park. Some of
Lily’s misgivings dissipated as they passed beneath and turned north onto the
perimeter carriage drive.

“You’ve been quiet all morning.” Evelyn gave her a sympathetic smile.
“Is your head still troubling you?”

Lily returned the smile. “Not at all.”

She’d retired directly after supper last night, pleading a headache.
The events of the afternoon had come crashing down on her, overloading her mind
and draining her body.

Each and every time she’d tried to tell Evelyn about yesterday, the
words had jumbled in her throat. She didn’t know where to start, what to say
and what to leave out.

Lily was determined to believe the entire episode resided in her head
and she was terrified the cold facts would conspire against her if she listed
them out loud—or even thought about them for too long. It would be too easy for
the ridiculous to make sense, for the impossible to sound plausible, when her
counter-excuses and explanations were so flimsy.

Evelyn faced her from the opposite bench. Her usual sophisticated
elegance drowned in the full-length velvet cloak she wore from last winter’s
season, before the Paris summer had reduced the wide crinolines to panelled
skirts and single petticoats.

There was nothing unusual, however, about the curious gleam in her
eyes. “Then it must be Lord Dashing who’s occupying all your thoughts.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”

 
“Pah. Even after—
especially
after the mysterious incidents of yesterday, I find more and more to recommend
in the man.”

“I’m not surprised. You love to flirt with danger and Lord Adair has
it steaming from his pores.” The image of smoke billowing from his celludrone’s
trousers was instantaneous and so vivid, Lily could almost taste the acrid
smell of melted celluloid and burnt hair. The impact shuddered down her spine.

Evelyn didn’t miss it. She leaned forward and spoke softly. “I’m as
good at keeping confidences as I am at flirting. Won’t you talk to me?”

Lily opened her mouth.

To say what?

Evelyn knew about the spells she suffered from. But this time she’d
felt things she shouldn’t know how to feel. White-cold fear. The vibration of
death rattling through her veins.

This time she’d seen things her imagination couldn’t begin to
fabricate. If it had been a premonition, a glimpse into a future that Lord
Adair had abruptly changed with his quick actions, how did she explain him having
the exact same vision?