Elizabeth Mansfield (5 page)

His son, the Honorable Leonard Tyndale, was the fellow who'd been standing behind Deirdre's chair. His mop of auburn hair topped a cheerful face, full cheeks sprinkled with freckles, an upturned nose, and a mouth showing a decided propensity to smile. His manner, too, was unaffected and good-humored. The enthusiastic way he came forward to shake her hand put Kate immediately at ease with him. The two Tyndales, she decided, would be pleasant company.

Then Uncle Charles turned to Ainsworth. "Harry," he said jovially, "come and meet my niece."

Ainsworth rose from his perch. "But we've already met," he told Charles with a grin. "How do you do, Miss Rendell?"

"Very well, thank you, my lord," Kate replied, uncomfortably aware of a strange wobbling of her knees. His lordship was even more disturbingly attractive than he'd seemed in her reveries, and, despite his receding hairline, every bit as handsome as Deirdre had claimed. And when he flashed his particularly infectious grin, it was as if an inner light suddenly came on and lit up his whole face. But at this moment there was a slightly mocking look in his eyes—a look she remembered well—and as irritating right now as it had been when he'd given her that set down in her drawing room.

"How on earth do you two know each other?" Uncle Charles wanted to know.

"I visited Rendell Hall a few weeks ago," Ainsworth explained. "I went to see a painting—
Girl with Persian Shawl"

"Ah, yes," Charles said, nodding. "A lovely work, that."

"Miss Rendell thought I wanted to steal it from her."

Kate glared at him. "I did
not
think—"

But Charles cut her off, for the butler appeared at his elbow at that moment. "Do have some sherry, Kate," he said, taking a glass from the tray.

She took the glass, grateful for the interruption. "But someone is missing," she remarked after taking a sip. "Deirdre told me there would be three Gerards at the table. I've met only two."

"My brother, Benjarnin," Harry Gerard said. "He's in the library, sulking."

"Sulking?"

"Benjy's only fourteen. He's disappointed that there's no one his age present to keep him company."

"Poor fellow. That
is
too bad," Kate said.

"I'll send Pruitt to roust him out," Charles said. "We'll be going in to dinner in a few moments."

"Let me go, Uncle Charles," Kate offered. "I'll introduce myself and bring him back with me." And before anyone could object, she swung on her heel and swept out of the room, depositing her sherry glass on a table near the door as she passed.

The castle corridors had high ceilings, wood-paneled walls, and floors of polished stone. Despite the ensconced torches that provided light at measured intervals, the hall was dark and cold. As Kate hurried along toward the library, which was a good distance away, she shivered from the chill, regretting for a moment having offered to fetch the boy. She regretted even more having changed into this bare-shouldered gown.

She hadn't gone far when she heard footsteps behind her, and then a voice. "Miss Rendell, wait."

She turned to discover Lord Ainsworth striding after her. "Your lordship?"

He came up beside her. "These halls are deucedly drafty. I've brought you a cape."

"My! How very thoughtful of you!" she said with sincere gratitude as he draped it over her shoulders.

"I cannot take credit. Actually, it was my grandmother's suggestion. When she saw me set out to follow you, she thrust it at me."

"Oh!" She looked down at the garment and recognized the purple cape Lady Ainsworth had been wearing. So that lovely woman was his
grandmother.
But why had he permitted her to give up her cape? "Good heavens, she was
wearing
it!" Kate cried in chagrin. "How could you permit her to—?"

"She said you will need it more than she. She assured me she was quite warm enough at the fire."

"I see. In that case, I'm immensely grateful to her.

This corridor belongs in an ice palace." She drew the cape tightly around her shoulders, enjoying the warmth. As she drew in a contented breath, his other words came to her mind. "But what was it you said before? That you set out to
follow
me? Why?"

"For no ulterior motive, I assure you. In the game of love, if that is what you thought I was playing, I am not a participant. The reason I followed you was merely that I thought it proper for me to escort you and introduce you to Benjy myself."

"Did you, indeed?" She peered up at him suspiciously. She'd hadn't forgotten his disparaging remark about her to her uncle, and she certainly hadn't forgotten the insult he'd given her at Rendell Hall. He obviously didn't like her. So what sort of game was he playing? Did rakes believe they should capture every female in their vicinity? "Escorting me is quite unnecessary, my lord," she said.

"From a lady's point of view, perhaps. But I like to adhere to a gentleman's standards."

"Not always, I think," she retorted pointedly.

He looked at her blankly, but only for a moment. "Ah," he said, remembering, "you're thinking of our conversation when I called at Rendell Hall. If I was ungentlemanly to you that day, Miss Rendell, I most sincerely apologize." His lips curved in a small smile. "Although I think you should admit that you were at least partially to blame."

She lowered her eyes. "I admit nothing." She would not give him the satisfaction of agreeing, even if he had the right of it. Anyway, she told herself, this sort of conversation would not do. It would be best for her peace of mind to rid herself of his company. "But, my lord," she suggested pleasantly, "wouldn't it be more gentlemanly if you returned to the drawing room?"

"More gentlemanly? Why?"

"To be available to escort your betrothed in to dinner?"

"What?" His lordship blinked at her bewilderedly. "Your betrothed. Deirdre."

"What on earth are you talking about, Miss Rendell?"

She smiled at him knowingly. "Come now, my lord, you needn't play the innocent. I know all about it."

He peered down at her in amazement. "I don't understand. What is it that you know all about?"

"About you and Deirdre. Deirdre told me herself."

"Told you?" His brows drew together in perplexity. "Told you about—
?
"

"About your engagement, yes. You needn't pretend with me, you know. Deirdre confided the whole to me."

"The whole
what?"

"The whole. That you and she are betrothed, of course."

"Deirdre told you that she and
I
—?"

"There's no need to deny it," Kate cut in, patting his arm reassuringly. "I understand that it's supposed to be kept secret until the announcement tonight, but she and I are closer than mere cousins. We're very good friends, and she couldn't keep me in the dark."

"Let me understand this," Lord Ainsworth said, cocking his head at her. "Deirdre told you that she and I are betrothed. She mentioned me by name, did she?"

"She didn't have to."

"I see." He gave a little snort.

"Are you annoyed with her? You mustn't be. She knew I wouldn't say anything."

"I am not annoyed, ma'am. But I'd—"

"Then you mustn't keep her waiting for you. I'm quite capable of fetching your brother by myself. Do go back to the drawing room."

He shook his head in amazement. "I must say, Miss Rendell, that your character is remarkably ... er ..."

She saw that same, ironically amused look in his eyes. "Remarkably what?" she asked defensively.

"Remarkably consistent."

She stiffened. "I don't know what you mean by that," she said coldly, "but I know you don't mean it as a compliment."

"Why do you assume that?'

"From that mocking look in your eye. Am I right?"

He flashed one of his disarming grins. "It would not be gentlemanly to say." And with a quick bow and a wave of his hand, he turned and strolled back down the hall.

EIGHT

The boy in the library was staring morosely out a tall window, as if he could really see something out there in the darkening landscape. Kate, observing him from the doorway, let out a surprised "Oh!" She'd expected him to be tall for his age and dark-haired like his brother, as indeed he was. But what she hadn't expected was that his right arm would be in a sling.

At the sound of her cry, he wheeled about, his eyes (light, like his brother's) showing the fear of a hunted animal.

She stepped over the threshold. "I startled you," she said. "I'm sorry. You see, they didn't tell me about your arm."

"Beg pardon, ma'am?"

She smiled and offered her hand. "I'm not ma'am. I'm Kate, our host's niece. If you're Benjy, I've been sent to fetch you."

"I'm Benjy," he said wanly, taking her hand in his left. "How do you do?"

"Evidently I do better than you. What happened to your arm?"

"It's my shoulder. I wrenched it playing cricket. At school, you know." He dropped both her hand and his eyes. "They won't let me back for another six weeks. They say it'll be mended by then."

"That is too bad." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You must like school a great deal, to be so downhearted at missing it."

"I didn't used to think so, but it's a great deal better than hanging about with... with..."

"With older people?"

"I meant no offense," he muttered, shoving back a lock of hair from his forehead. "It's just that there's no one near my age either at home or here for me to talk to, and there's nothing to do. Even Harry won't let me ride or go shooting with him as he used to."

"I suppose he wants to keep you from further injury," she suggested.

"I suppose," the boy sighed, "but it's a blasted nuisance to be kept wrapped in cotton wool."

"I know just how you feel," Kate said, taking his good arm and leading him to the door. "I'm in the same situation myself."

"You?"

"Oh, not wrapped in cotton wool. I didn't mean that. I meant about having no one about to talk to or do things with. My cousin Deirdre is my friend, but I fear she'll be too busy to keep me company this time. And there's no one else..." She smiled down at the boy sympathetically. "I, too, will have little to do."

They walked down the hall in sympathetic silence. "Of course," Kate added, "we can keep each other company, if you'd permit it. I don't suppose you'd enjoy a game of spillikins or bilbocatch, what with your arm tied up—and they're too childish anyway. But I can teach you copper loo—"

"I'm wizard at copper loo," Benjy said eagerly, "but we'd need a few more to play."

"Ecarte, then. Do you know the game? It only requires two."

Benjy's face brightened. "Would you really play with me?"

"Of course. For real pennies, if you wish."

By the time they reached the drawing room, they'd arranged a time and a place for the game. Benjy was actually smiling. His brother noticed it at once and started toward them, but at that moment Aunt Madge called out his name. "Lord Ainsworth, your arm," she clarioned. The procession into the dining room was beginning to form.

Uncle Charles approached Kate and offered his arm, but she shook her head. "I already have an escort, Uncle Charles. You did say you'd take me in, didn't you, Benjy?"

Benjy beamed. "Yes, ma'am. I mean Kate." And, preening proudly, he led her into the dining room.

It seemed to Kate that everyone at the dinner table was bubbling with excitement. Conversation flourished all around her. Deirdre, seated to the right of her father, bestowed a radiant smile on everyone, except when Ainsworth, who was seated next to her, leaned over to her to whisper in her ear and make her laugh. The old-fashioned Sir Edward seemed to be doing the same for Kate's mother, who was apparently enjoying herself immensely. Kate, though seated between Leonard and Benjy, and getting plenty of attention from both, had a hard time responding to all the good humor. Her insides seemed to be tied up in knots.

She knew the cause: She did
not
want to hear the announcement that would soon be made. In spite of having told herself over and over that the matter did not concern her, in spite of having promised herself that she would cheer as enthusiastically as everyone else when the words were said... in spite of all that, her spirits were depressed. But to be depressed at the happiness of someone she cared for dismayed her. She disliked herself for these ungracious feelings.
What is happening to me?
she asked herself. Ever since her first encounter with Lord Ainsworth, she'd become a disappointment to herself. She was not the warmhearted, independent, strong-minded creature she'd thought she was.

When the second course was removed, the footmen came forward and set delicate glass goblets at every place. As Pruitt circled the table, filling them with sparkling wine, Uncle Charles tapped on his glass and stood up. Kate braced herself for what was to come.

Uncle Charles cleared his throat awkwardly, "As you may already have suspected," he said, tugging at his neckcloth with embarrassment, "there's a special reason my lady and I have brought you all together tonight. It's an announcement that I'm sure will surprise and delight everyone. But since I do not pride myself on my oratory, I'm going to call on someone with more talent for this sort of thing than I have to make the announcement for me. Harry, please."

Ainsworth stood up as Charles sat down. "Thank you, Charles, I am honored." He turned and smiled at everyone looking up at him. "Ladies and gentlemen, a mere month ago I would not have been a likely choice to make this announcement, for its subject is love, and in the game of love I was a staunch cynic. Love, to me, was a delusion—a mistaken conviction that one particular man or woman differs from all others. At its best, I thought, love was a will-o'-the-wisp that forever eluded one's grasp, a mirage that everyone swears is real but very few have actually seen." Here he turned his gaze on Deirdre. "But now I've seen it with my own eyes, and I know how wrong I've been."

Kate felt a twinge in her throat.
What a lovely way to declare himself,
she thought.
How Deirdre must be enjoying this!