Knaves' Wager (8 page)

Lilith ate dinner with her customary marblelike composure and could not have said later what she had put into her mouth. When she withdrew with the other ladies, she conversed in her usual coolly courteous manner and could not remember after a single word. When the gentlemen rejoined them, she talked and drank her tea and might have been talking Hindoo and drinking ditch-water for all she knew of it.

Once more the marquess spoke only a few unexceptionable words to her. Then he drifted away to a group of gentlemen in a corner, where he remained the rest of the evening. Yet he might have been breathing down her neck the whole time, so relentlessly did his presence grip her.

Thomas was among those with whom the marquess conversed. The night wore on, and Thomas showed no signs of wearing out. Instead, the conversation seemed to grow into an intense debate with Sidmouth and their host. So engrossed were the three men that they never noted the other guests taking their leave.

Rachel approached her future sister-in-law.

"Enders says they are like to keep on all night and into the morning," she said, nodding towards her brother. "Can I persuade you to leave with us? Thomas will find his own way home. Heaven knows he has done this a hundred times if he has done it once, and we shall be asleep on our feet waiting for him."

Lilith was only too willing to leave, even if it meant abandoning her betrothed.

"It is about time," said Rachel when the carriage finally arrived. "Nathan has been prodigious slow in coming."

"They are all behindhand, it seems," said Lord Brandon from somewhere behind Lilith's shoulder. "My own carriage was ordered at the same time, and even Ezra — usually a miracle of celerity — has dawdled. Perhaps they too have been debating affairs of state. Mrs. Davenant, you are losing your shawl. May I assist you?"

"No, th — "

He scooped up the end dragging on the carpet and draped it artistically upon her shoulder without touching her.

Lilith murmured polite thanks and quickly moved away, but she found him at her shoulder again as she stepped out onto the walkway.

"Perhaps you didn't require your wrap, after all," he said. "The night is unseasonably warm. You must beware growing overwarm yourself. That is an excellent way to take a chill. Shall I — Well, that is odd."

He stepped away from her towards Lord and Lady Enders, and stopped the latter as she was about to enter the carriage.

Lilith saw him whisper something to Matthew and gesture towards the coachman. At that moment, to her very great surprise, the coachman toppled sideways onto the seat.

"What the devil is wrong with the fellow?" Matthew tried.

Lord Brandon inspected the head dangling over the coach seat. "Drunk, it looks like," he said coolly.

"Drunk?" the others chorused.

"I am sorry to say the man reeks of gin." The marquess retreated a few steps from the head, and turned back to Matthew. "He will not recover for many hours, I'm afraid. May I offer my own carriage as substitute? Ezra has taken a vow of abstinence from strong spirits, and the vehicle is commodious. What good fortune," he added, with the barest flicker of a glance at Lilith. "My curricle is in pieces, or else I should have taken it and been unable to accommodate you."

After making the obligatory objections to inconveniencing his lordship and receiving the obligatory chivalrous responses, the three climbed into his carriage and were quickly on their way.

Lord and Lady Enders promptly began to quarrel regarding Nathan's future. The lady insisted he be turned off at once without a character. The lord, being more forbearing, was all for a sound scold, a signed oath of abstinence, and a second chance.

Lord Brandon pointing out the merit of both sides of the debate, it continued at full spate during the entire journey.

Lilith was too painfully conscious of a dove-grey wool-encased knee three inches from her own to formulate any opinions, let alone give voice to them. The knee was giving her a headache.

Thus it happened that Lord and Lady Enders were deposited at their front door before they knew it, and Lord Brandon's carriage had travelled merrily down the street and was turning the corner before Rachel realised what had happened.

"Good heavens!" she cried, interrupting her spouse mid-harangue. "He is alone with Lilith — in a closed carriage!"

It was a curious circumstance that the loss of two passengers rendered the vehicle more confined than it had been, as though the masculine presence opposite Lilith possessed the power to expand to fill all available space.

She quickly thrust this fancy aside and tried to quell her rising anxiety. There was nothing in taking Rachel and Matthew home first, she told herself. The coachman had merely taken the shortest route, and certainly he seemed in a hurry, for they'd arrived at Enders House precipitately. Which was just as well. Lilith was eager to be home, to lay her throbbing head upon her pillow. She would travel in greater comfort and doubtless arrive more swiftly than she would have in the Enderses' coach.

She had scarcely formulated the thought when the carriage began to abate its spanking pace. Lilith glanced out the window.

"I do not believe this is the correct turning,'' she said. "This is South Audley Street."

"And you are alarmed. Perhaps I mean to abduct you and hold you for ransom.''

She suppressed a gasp, and instantly took refuge from anxiety in anger. "You would get precious little, as you well know, my lord," she snapped. "While we are on the subject — "

"Of abduction?"

"Of money — "

"I did not know that was our topic. I hope not. It is exceedingly dull."

"I am a dull person, as I have mentioned before. My man of business tells me your representative refuses to discuss terms of repayment."

"Yes, and I wish you would stop plaguing them both, Mrs. Davenant. It hints of a disordered mind, not to mention a woeful want of consideration for poor Mr. Higginbottom."

"He is well paid to engage in such work."

"Another lamentable waste of your resources. Really, your affairs are in such a muddle it is a wonder the man hasn't hanged himself — or that you haven't been deposited in the King's Bench already. Did your previous agent not do sufficient damage? Or was his disease contagious?"

"I freely admit I ought to have kept a closer watch on him," she said frigidly, "but that is hardly to the point. The fact is, I owe you — "

"Davenant owed me. You do not."

"I will not accept your charity, my lord."

He studied the top of her head. "Now I wonder why not," be said meditatively. "It cannot be a greater blow to your pride than accepting Bexley. That decision carries a lifetime of consequences."

Without heeding her gasp of outrage, he went on. "Not that I blame you. Women have so few economic alternatives. Still, I cannot but wonder at your choice."

"How dare you," she said, her voice choked. "You have no right to refer to matters — to personal matters — or to speak slightingly of a worthy gentleman."

"I did not say Bexley was unworthy. I was referring to his hairline, which is receding at an alarming rate. I can only hope your offspring will not suffer premature baldness," he said charitably.

"I find your conversation in the worst possible taste, my lord."

"I beg your pardon. Perhaps baldness does not distress you. I have noted your preference for a coiffure designed, apparently, to pull your hair out slowly by the roots," he said, his eyes once more upon the tight coil of dark auburn braid. "I cannot look at your head without wincing in sympathy — which is a great pity, because I have very recently acquired a partiality for redheads."

Lilith decided not to dignify this with a reply. She turned her gaze to the window, and immediately discovered, with a return of alarm, that they were circling the darkest square of London.

"This is Berkeley Square," she said, forcing her voice to be steady. "Is your coachman drunk as well?

"No, he has infallible instincts, which have apparently informed him of my wish to kiss you. Naturally, the locale must be poorly lit. I realise you are shy, Mrs. Davenant."

S

She had her hand on the door handle before he'd finished speaking.

"Ah, you wish to alight," he said calmly.

The coachman, to Lilith's confusion, was ordered to halt. To her further confusion, the marquess assisted her in disembarking, and in the next minute, his carriage was clattering away, leaving her alone, on foot, with its owner.

He offered a bland smile, took possession of her arm, and proceeded to stroll in the most leisurely way down the street with her.

Lilith's wish to escape the carriage had been reflexive, and for perhaps two whole minutes she had actually believed she would walk home. Now, in the shadowy square, reason returned. A lady did not walk anywhere without escort, and most certainly not at night.

"You see what comes of permitting me to provoke you," he said, voicing her thoughts. "Though how you could have helped it, I cannot imagine, considering the pains I took."

"You upset me deliberately," she said, half disbelieving, half accusing.

"Yes, I hoped you would fly at me and do me some violence. But you are far too well bred for that. Your composure is extraordinary. What a dragon of a governess you must have had."

"She wasn't — " She paused and looked at him, but there was too little light. She could read nothing in the arrogant profile. "Why did you wish to provoke me?"

"Because I find it disconcerting to converse with a stone monument. You do it very well, I admit. One is tempted to hold a glass to your lips to ascertain whether respiration has ceased."

She was both angry and frightened, and his remarks could not be construed as complimentary. All the same, the long-suffering note in his voice made her want to laugh.

"Stones do not scold," she said, moving on again.

"That is the trouble, virtually the only words I can prise from you are scolding ones, yet I know you can converse quite amiably. Your suggestions to Lord Velgrace regarding the draining of his fields, for instance." He glanced at her baffled countenance. "My hearing is very acute — despite my illness."

"If you wanted my views on agriculture, you had only to ask."

"Had I? I think not. The evening cools," he went on, gazing upwards, "and the heavens make a mighty struggle to clear. I discern one courageous star striving feverishly against the London smoke." Lilith looked up at the faint twinkle in the heavens. "I recommend you make your wish now, Mrs. Davenant, before the haze crushes it altogether. You will doubtless use the occasion to wish me to the Devil."

"I hope," she said quietly, "I have wishes more worthy of a Christian than that."

"Then what will it be? A cabinet post for Bexley? No, that is not altogether worthy, either. Too mercenary and selfish. Something for your niece, perhaps — but I will not press for details, or the wish is spoiled."

They walked on for a while in silence. The air had cooled, as he'd said, but not uncomfortably so. Lilith felt warm enough. Her shawl was cashmere, after all, and exercise was known to aid circulation. The tall figure beside her could not be a source of warmth, unless it were the warmth of security. He was trim and strong, and he moved with the grace of complete assurance. She doubted any ruffian would have the temerity to attempt Lord Brandon. With him, she was safe from others.

She wished she could feel as certain she was safe from him. She could not comprehend what he was about. Worse, she could not comprehend what she was about, to be ambling through the West End with an infamous libertine. But he had somehow goaded her into it, and now there was nothing she could do about it, except hope no one she knew saw her behaving so improperly. For a moment, Lilith almost resented the impropriety.

She had never before walked about Town at night. Only gentlemen might wander as they pleased. Men had, perhaps, more freedom than was good for them — did not the living proof walk beside her? Nonetheless, she had always rather envied them… when she permitted herself such reflections. Thus, for the present moment at least, she revelled in this mild liberation.

His low, lazy tones jerked her back to Reality.

"You are exceedingly quiet," he said. "Are you tired? I am aware ladies are accustomed to traverse no distance greater than that between front door and carriage."

"I am country-bred, my lord. Walking is not new to me."

"That is a pity. I had hoped you would ask me to carry you."

"Awhile ago, you hoped I would fly at you. You are either a poor judge of character or in the habit of absurdly fanciful thinking."

"If you think I could not realise either of these hopes — if I truly set my mind to it — then
you
are a poor judge of character."

"You need not war — remind me you are accustomed to do precisely as you please."

"Yes, I am every bit as willful as yourself. I cannot deny that you have the greater self-restraint, but I have superior physical strength — which makes us even, you see."

"You will please refrain from placing me in the same category as yourself," she said frigidly.

"But you
are
willful, Mrs. Davenant. Your carriage alone proclaims it. That haughty lift of your chin, for instance — and one might use your spine as a scientifically exact measure of the perpendicular. It is in your voice as well, and in your terrifying eyes. I should be thoroughly cowed, of course, if I did not find the combined effect so utterly adorable."

Some long-stifled feeling fluttered within her at the last words, but she quickly suffocated it, and iced over for good measure.

"Yes, I am a great joke to you," she answered. "Do you mean to mock at me the entire way home? I ask only to be prepared. I know it is futile to hope you will stop."

"Now I have hurt your feelings," he said, all contriteness. "Upon my honour, that is never what I meant. It was a compliment, Mrs. Davenant. I was flirting with you — albeit in my own clumsy, perverse way."

"I do not wish to flirt with you, or be flirted with in any sort of way, my lord. I cannot think how I allowed myself to be goaded into this predicament. No more can I comprehend how any gentleman could stoop to provoking a lady with whom he is scarcely acquainted — one, moreover, who has done him no injury she knows of."