Emily Hendrickson (6 page)

His silent perusal of her unsettled her considerably, but she kept her chin up, returning his look with what she hoped was cool detachment.

“Actually, I have been doing a good bit of thinking about that. Goodness knows, I have had more than enough time to solve any number of problems.”

“And?” she replied with a great deal of hope in her voice. If only Lord Leighton were not quite so handsome, or possessed of so many other admirable qualities that would likely be thrown in her face again and again when she broke off with him.

“I have an idea.” He flashed a grin at her that made her wonder at her resolve, and her ability to keep it.

“Please do go on. I cannot bear the suspense.”

“You won’t like it,” he prophesied. “I propose that for the time being we allow this foolish arrangement to stand.” He held up a hand when he saw that her bosom swelled with indignation. “Allow me, please, to finish? I came here to obtain your help, and your help I shall get—you owe me, remember?” When she subsided, he continued. “If we are engaged, no one will think the least of it if you go to Penhurst, spend time inspecting the house, becoming acquainted with the place where you will live someday. Correct?” He ignored the fact that she’d been compromised by him.

Elizabeth nodded slowly. “I must agree your scheme has merits.” Her guilt ate at her conscience.

“You needn’t be so reluctant with your praise. I haven’t heard anything better from you. While you are at Penhurst you can keep a weather eye on my father. I cannot fathom what has struck him down like this. Bloody mysterious. Never known him to cast up his accounts for so long, or be so dazed.”

“Filpot said there was no change in his condition. Hadlow said very little. I trust he told you more?” She raised delicate, inquiring brows, while folding her hands in her lap.

“Dash it all, I want to be there instead of languishing in this confounded bed.” He balled his hand into a fist, gently pounding the bed in his frustration.

It seemed he truly cared for his father, and Elizabeth felt her heart soften, for she had precious memories of her own papa that she treasured. Any man who could reveal his affection for a parent in this day, when it was fashionable to act as though you somehow were created without benefit of such, must get her respect.

Then Elizabeth realized that all this talking had not been good for him. He could become feverish. Rather
than
ask him, for she well remembered how annoying it could be when ill to be constantly nagged about how one felt, she rose to do something about it. Crossing to the dresser, she found a basin filled with cool, lavender-scented water. Wringing out a small towel, she walked to his bedside, perching on the very edge of it.

His suspicious look cut her. With a deal of patience she softly said, “You are wearing yourself out with all this nattering. Hush now, while I talk for a bit.” She stroked his brow with the scented liquid, soothing him, almost caressing him, if she’d but thought of it.

She concentrated on their joint dilemma. “I believe your plan might work. Aunt Bel muttered something about going to call on your father. I expect she will demand to see how he does, and I would not be surprised were she to gain entrance to the sickroom. Would you wish Purvis to have a look at him as well?”

“Your eyes are turquoise in this light,” he said in a thoughtful voice. “Your skin is remarkably creamy, my dear.”

“Except when you put me to the blush by absurd compliments, sir.” She flashed him a look of reproof.

“I could do worse than marry you, I suppose. I doubt if any of my cronies would raise an eyebrow at the connection.” He peered at her, a twinkle in his eyes, looking as rakishly fetching as any man she’d ever seen.

Elizabeth was utterly incensed. She allowed a few drops of cold water to fall on his cambric-covered chest, the sheet somehow having slid downward. “I shall fulfill my share of the bargain and look after your father. But nothing more. I shan’t marry you, sir. Not for anything.”

“I’m such a good catch, how can you turn down marriage to me?” He affected a pout, and for an instant she had a glimpse of what he must have looked like as a boy. It took great resolve to resist his appeal, but he was most provoking.

She scowled at the plaintive note in his voice. She ought to pour the entire contents of the basin over his head. How dare the man propose marriage so casually? He was impossible. Rather than brush aside that appealing curl that had fallen over his brow, she rose and walked to the door, after dropping the cloth back into the basin.

“I shall pay my respects to Aunt and consign myself to bed. It will be a penance of sorts. On the morrow I will begin our plan.”

“Before you leave, I have something for you. A Valentine’s Day gift, if you like. I hope it pleases you. Over there, on the dresser. Open that package.” He turned his head to watch her.

Disregarding his offhand presentation, she hastened to the dresser to pick up the rather large parcel. Sitting back down on the chair, she proceeded to undo the wrapping, exclaiming softly when she beheld what was inside.

“Good gracious! You ought not, you know. This is frightfully valuable.” Perched in the tissue reposed an enameled gold singing-bird music box. The base, sides, and top were blue enamel. Wide gold bands trimmed the corners and the oval upon which the bird sat. Unable to resist, she wound up the music box and listened, utterly enchanted, to the sweet melody. “How lovely!” The smile beamed at his lordship was quite, quite bemused and delighted.

“I thought that since you are plagued with that infirmity of the voice, you might like a song sung on key.”

Only the delicacy and great cost of the music box kept her from throwing it at him then and there. How like him to tease her about her lack of musical ability. Unwilling to let him know she was hurt, she smiled serenely at him.

“It is truly a marvelous gift, and I shall treasure it always. Would you mind if I conceal it from Aunt Bel for the nonce? We scarcely wish to add fuel to her determination to see us wed.” At his nod she rose. “Thank you. Lord Leighton, for the valentine gift.”

“I knew you’d be pleased, and so I sent a request to Hadlow to bring it along. Been in the family awhile.”

His triumphant smile almost made her take back her words. What a devious man, to be sure. She turned to leave the room, the music box clutched tightly in her arms.

“And the name is David, you know. I think you had best learn to use it.”

Compressing her lips and taking a deep breath, she nodded her good night to him. After first hiding the music box in her room, she sailed down the stairs to find her aunt. David, indeed.

* * * *

The next morning Elizabeth discovered her aunt in the breakfast room, staring out of the window with a frown on her face. Beyond the panes of glass a few lazy flakes of snow sifted to the ground. Elizabeth believed that if her aunt frowned hard enough, the snow would cease, afraid to fall and vex that formidable lady.

“Good morning, Aunt.”

“Bad weather to travel to Penhurst Place.”

“You plan to go with me, then?”

Aunt Bel nodded. “I wish to see what Harold has done with that house. He was secretive about his plans, and with him not having a proper hostess, I’ve not had the chance to see it.” She shot a sharp look at Elizabeth. “What did you think of the place?”

“Well, I saw nothing other than the hall and the drawing room. But it seems charming. The stone exterior is such a lovely hue of saffron, and the French windows in the drawing room seem most pleasing. Did you know the drawing room is on the ground floor? With doors that open out onto a very nice gallery with a delightful view?” Elizabeth reflected on the charming aspect of the room.

“Good thing you like the place. You’ll live there soon enough.” Aunt Bel consulted her locket watch, then stared out of the window again.

Elizabeth prudently refrained from disputing this statement. If she roused her aunt’s suspicions, her plans could come to naught.

“We shall depart as soon as you have broken your fast. Hurry up, girl. We do not have all day. I fancy my drawing room will be full of callers this afternoon, paying respects after the ball.”

“It was such a lovely affair.”

“What do you know about it? You danced twice, then retired. Eat.” After consulting her locket watch. Aunt Bel rose from her chair and sailed from the room in august dignity.

Elizabeth flashed a look of dismay after her closest relative of the older generation. There really was no one else she could live with, and Aunt Bel had a heart of gold. If only she did not also harbor such strange superstitions.

Having little taste for a meal, Elizabeth shortly left the room. In the entry way, she discovered her aunt attired in an attractive pelisse of dove gray trimmed in deep blue. A confection of blue feathers and gray ribands sat on her head, and made Aunt Bel look years younger.

“I requested that Rose bring down your pretty aquamarine pelisse and bonnet. No sense in going up just to come down again. Wastes time.”

Rose timidly offered the articles, while Elizabeth reflected that it was as well she didn’t care if she made an impression on the people at Penhurst or not. She’d not be given a chance to primp before leaving.

“I trust the household will be astir. Aunt? With a person as ill as the earl, they may be taking things quiet.”

“We shall be ushered in,” replied her aunt.

Of Lady Chloe and Hyacinth, not a speck could be seen. Elizabeth suspected they still slept, relishing that delightful feeling after a ball at which one has been smashing and had masses of partners.

“I am pleased you have agreed to perform this nursing. Purvis declares you have been a fine pupil. You set a good example to the girls not only in this, but your acceptance of your lot. Your marriage to Lord Leighton will turn out quite well, I believe.”

Elizabeth shot her a dismayed look. Why did she have the sensation of being trapped?

Before they could exit, a stir above stairs brought them to a halt. Both ladies paused in their steps as a polished gentleman slowly made his way with the aid of James down the stairs to join them. His wounded arm was cradled in one of Aunt Bel’s less colorful scarves.

“Leighton! What’s the meaning of this?” demanded Aunt Bel of her guest.

“Why, my carriage awaits us, my lady. I intend to go with you.”

Elizabeth detected the faint bulge of his bandage beneath his superbly cut coat that indicated where his arm had been shot. Otherwise, he looked complete to a shade, and not the least in need of pampering. His color looked remarkably well for one who had suffered grievous injury-

“Good. That is, if you are in shape to travel,” Aunt added. “The more you and Elizabeth are seen together, the better.”

“But of course. May I call you Aunt Bel?” He bowed over her hand, smiling lazily down into her soft blue eyes.

Repressing a snort of disgust, Elizabeth eyed him with a jaundiced eye, then said, “Come,
David,
we had best be going. There is such a lot to be done, and no time to lose.”

“I shall agree to that, my love.” With that, he gestured her before him, and they hurried through the cold to the waiting carriage.

Once in the carriage, her feet on a hot brick, Elizabeth fumed in silence. Did he always have to get the best of her?

Chapter Four

“You ought not have left your bed, sir,” she began. ‘I fear you are not strong enough.” He sat opposite her in the closed carriage, next to her aunt. His wicked flash of a grin ought to have warned her.

“Why, after you cooled my fevered brow last evening, I slept like an infant. I feel certain that your ministrations did more than that vile brew Purvis poured down my throat.” He behaved as though he had bested her again, with an odious grin on his face.

Elizabeth firmed her mouth, thinking of the dire things she would like to do to his lordship—like boiling him in oil, or something equally lovely. Her mind flashed to the nasty little comment he made the night before, saying that he could do worse than to marry her. Ohhhh, that abominable male conceit of his. It was not enough that he had to be the most handsome man about, but he must tease her into a muddled heap of sensibilities.

What a lowering reflection to be considered as nothing more than a passable connection. Well, she would just keep that lovely music box he gave her last evening. If she must end up on the shelf, the lovely tinkling music would serve to remind her how she got there. She surveyed the gentleman across from her coolly.

“Forgive me for my concern. You seemed a bit pulled this morning, and I naturally believed you to be suffering from the effects of your wound. ‘Tis unlike you to look so weak and worried.” She bestowed a sugary smile on him, demurely folding her hands in her lap. It was as well, for she dearly wished to punch him on the jaw, as her brother had taught her years before.

Leighton’s gaze narrowed, and that devilish smile disappeared. Uncertainty flared in his hazel eyes for a moment, much to her satisfaction. Oh, to strike a blow against all gentlemen who delighted in teasing poor defenseless girls! She quite forgot her lethal little gun that had wreaked such disaster on his lordship two nights ago.

“I declare, sir,” she continued sweetly, “I hope you intend to go straight to your bed when we arrive at your home. It would be dreadful if you took a turn for the worse, what with being your father’s only heir and all.”

He frowned at her, and Elizabeth repressed a smile.

“I believe there are a number of hopefuls in the offing, in the event I go aloft without an heir of my own,” he replied in a repressive tone.

It would serve him right if—after she gave him the mitten quite properly—he was unable to find a woman who’d accept him. For that matter, could he ever be serious long enough to make a suitable offer? Casting a doubtful look at him, she decided he would most likely tease his way into marriage, as he did other things. Providing, of course, that he ever got around to it. She’d wager that marriage was not high on his list of things to do.

“Children,” began Lady Montmorcy in her most quelling manner, “I believe you had best cease this sparring. Lord Leighton, I should like to know more about this illness that has struck your father.”