Mark of Distinction (Price of Privilege) (14 page)

And Lord Dalry? I paused to stare at him in disbelief. His
presumption was unparalleled. He’d seen Edward and me together. He knew of our troth. He’d been to Am Meer—and probably slept in my bed there, for heaven’s sake. He must have met Henry and Elizabeth and realized the depth of our bond. I challenged Lord Dalry with my eyes. “How dare you!”

The door swung open.

“Isaac, what the deuce are you doing?” My father’s booming voice added to the already-present tension in the room. “You can’t be alone with her. We’re fighting an uphill battle as it is. Leave no room for servants’ gossip.”

“Sir, forgive me; I—”

“Don’t!” My father’s left hand shot up, silencing Lord Dalry, while he rummaged through a desk drawer with his right. “It’s not an issue of trust. Just call Kinsley in the future.” He grabbed a stash of papers. “Your duty is finished here anyway. The house is locked. I want you in the smoking room. We have a problem.”

“Now, sir?” Lord Dalry asked, rising. “I would much rather not leave our conversation off where we did. May I not at least finish it?”

“There’s not time for it. Within the hour, all of London will know we’re back.” My father strode away, one of his papers falling to the floor. “Say good night. No delays.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door banged shut.

Lord Dalry sighed but kept a refined expression as he bowed. “Forgive me, but I must leave. I did not wish to add to your distress. Perhaps tomorrow we can finish our conversation in private.” Anger rippled through me, but before I could assure him we’d
never
finish this conversation, he continued. “In the meantime, wait here. I’ll have a servant fetch you when your chamber is ready. Don’t forget your meeting with your father at ten. He doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”

I glared as he withdrew and shut the door. Alone, I sank beside the fire, my dress ballooning about me. The entire
situation felt insane. Shutting my eyes, I rested my forehead against one of the marble columns that flanked the fireplace, wondering if I had correctly interpreted where Lord Dalry was leading me.

Part of me couldn’t put stock in my understanding. Surely, Lord Dalry hadn’t been hinting for me to expect a marriage between us. Considering that I was already married to one man and engaged to another, he’d have to be mad to believe such a possibility existed. As would my father.

I glanced at the clock, increasingly anxious for an audience with him. There were at least two hours to wait. I folded my arms over my churning stomach, not certain I could last that stretch of time with this desire to vehemently argue with him.

Fingers tucked a stray curl behind my ear. Memory of Mr. Macy’s arousing touch woke me. I opened my eyes and pushed against the velvet upholstery. At first, I only saw flickering shadows dancing in slow adagio over the books. Then my gaze fell on Lord Dalry, kneeling at the curved arm of the settee.

“Why are you not in bed?” he asked.

I felt too confused to answer. Just a moment ago, I’d been sitting with Edward atop a hill, overlooking his parish. I shut my eyes, wanting to go back.

“Why is she here? Did you not give her my message?”

“I passed the message to Kinsley,” James said behind me.

I reopened my eyes to find Lord Dalry’s squeezed shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose, making me wonder if his head throbbed.

“Well, sir?” James asked.

“I don’t know. I’m thinking,” Lord Dalry said. “There’s a good chance they are coming here next. Imagine if Lord Melbourne were to stumble over her now. But I can’t sneak her upstairs without them noticing.”

“No one would be to fault, sir.”

“No.” Lord Dalry sounded annoyed. “It would be mine. I told Lord Pierson she’d gone to bed.”

“On my honor, sir, Kinsley swore he’d tend to it.”

Lord Dalry waved for James to hush and looked toward me. He seemed relieved to find me alert, but before he could speak, the library door creaked and a ribbon of light striped his face.

It was nearly imperceptible, but Lord Dalry winced.

“Isaac?” My father’s voice carried from the door. The room flushed with light as the door opened farther. “What is this?”

“Sir.” Lord Dalry stood. “It’s my fault. I failed to deliver the message that you wouldn’t be joining her this evening. She must have fallen asleep while waiting.”

“Is that so?” The displeasure in my father’s voice settled upon the room with a chill.

“It’s just as well, Pierson,” came a voice behind my father. “No more excuses why we can’t see the girl tonight. Let us settle this matter once and for all.”

“Lord Ramsden.” Lord Dalry gave a nod and rose.

A walking stick rapped the floor as two men entered.

“Lights. Bring in lights. I wish to view her face.”

Like chess pieces returning to their rightful places after a game, everyone moved at once. James ran about the room, touching his candle to the lamp wicks. My father went straight to his desk, uncorked a decanter, and poured whiskey. He shot Lord Dalry a glowering look.

Having already sensed that Lord Dalry was my best resource, I looked to him for help. His expression was serious.

Two gentlemen entered and stopped before me. They were well dressed, their clothing tailored to fit, the material costly.

Lord Dalry placed a firm hand under my elbow and impelled me to rise. “Lord Melbourne, may I be the first to have the honor of presenting Miss Pierson?”

The gentleman bowed his head and waited. Etiquette
demanded I give him some token greeting. “Sir . . .” My legs went trembly. The name Lord Melbourne pounded against my memory as someone terribly important, only I could not place him.

Finally, Lord Melbourne’s companion grunted with impatience.

“So this girl is your daughter, Roy?” Lord Melbourne asked at last, turning to my father.

“She is.”

Lord Melbourne frowned, clasping his hands behind his back. For a length of time he studied me, then shook his head. “Why did you not consult me? We could have found some way around this.”

“Consult you? About what?” My father shrugged before taking another sip of his drink.

Lord Melbourne’s mouth slanted downward before he stepped toward me. His voice grew gruff. “Are you, or are you not, the daughter of Lady Pierson?”

Caught off guard, I glanced at Lord Dalry for my answer, but when my father set his drink on the desk with a plunk, my gaze went to him. Grey tinged his face, making him look stricken.

It wasn’t possible to destroy him in that moment. Regardless of the fact he’d virtually ignored me since birth, something inside me stirred with compassion. Henry always claimed there were more solutions than problems if you were willing to take paths no one else would. Whatever lunacy Lord Dalry and my father planned, I could handle later.

“Well, girl, have you no voice?”

“I—I—have no memory of my birth. Like everyone, I rely on others to tell me who my parents are.” I swallowed. “I’ve never known my father to lie.”

Splotches crept up Lord Melbourne’s neck. “Pierson, if you’re expecting to present an illegitimate child to the queen, you know I can’t allow it.”

“Forgive her hesitation.” My father stopped leaning against
his desk and straightened. “This is all new to her. Until recently, to keep her from fortune seekers, she thought herself orphaned and living on the charity of her boarding school. I can furnish records of her birth and witnesses to this peculiar arrangement. But imagine being wakened in the dead of night, by a person of your status. Who wouldn’t be flustered?”

Lord Dalry’s hand perspired where he supported my elbow, but he kept a refined, bored expression.

Lord Melbourne ran his gaze over me again, as though trying to find any semblance at all to my father’s wife. “Take no offense at this, but if you’re lying, confess it now.”

My heart pounded in my chest, uncertain as I was whether I wanted my father to confess or not.

“There’s no deception here.” My father jammed the glass stopper into the decanter. “And I do take offense—great offense—that you suggest such unsuitable things within the hearing of my daughter.”

Lord Melbourne tapped his walking stick, in turn looking uncomfortable. “What else is a body to think? Why in mercy’s name would you hide a daughter at a finishing school and then shock the whole of London by bringing her home unannounced and unexpectedly? Explain yourself.”

“She attempted to marry a rogue without my permission.” My father crossed his arms. “The elopement was scarcely prevented, and I was forced to remove her immediately.”

Heat seared my cheeks and ears. This was humiliating—and too close to the truth.

Lord Melbourne stroked his chin, studying me before slowly nodding. “Then she’ll keep up with the blue bloods?”

“Her manners are faultless,” my father said.

“Yes, as I saw by our introduction.” Sarcasm coated Lord Melbourne’s companion’s voice.

“She’s travelled all day and woke in a new place,” Lord Dalry said. “You can scarcely expect Miss Pierson to perform.”

A ghost of a smile played on Lord Melbourne’s lips as his gaze moved to Lord Dalry. Respect shone in his eyes. “So you bolster her claim as well?” He gave a huff, lifting his shoulders as he considered Lord Dalry intently. “All right, if Dalry supports this, so will I.” He turned to my father. “Send me the paperwork. Have Lady Beatrice write and request a private court presentation. As long as she confirms your story by sponsoring her, I’ll allow it.” Lord Melbourne moved his gaze to Lord Dalry. “It would be wise to settle the issue of her marriage sooner rather than later. I’ve already been approached by three members of the gentry, hoping I’ll persuade you in their favor.”

“She’ll be wed before the finish of the season.”

Chilled by my father’s words, I lifted my eyes and met his with a defiant stare. If he understood me, he gave no acknowledgment. He knew as well as I did there was still Macy to contend with. I had no choice but to aid the ruse. Nevertheless, I felt like a bird that had been lured into a cage with an offer of rest, only to have the door lock shut behind it.

“Allow us to leave you gentlemen in peace.” Lord Dalry escorted me toward the hall.

To my surprise, my father advanced, laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, and gave it a squeeze as he opened the door.

THAT NIGHT I tossed relentlessly between my sheets as the clop of hooves and jingle of harnesses carried from the cobblestone below. The few times I managed to slumber, my dreams were a tumult of images, primarily Edward and me trying to hide from an angry sunflower sun.

Each time I awoke, my conversation with Lord Dalry in the library came to mind. That I had unwittingly been forced into such a position vexed me to no end. I desired to be angry. Then I could at least vent. Yet I felt too rational to blame my father. He obviously hadn’t planned on this either. And anger toward Lord Dalry went nowhere. There was little point in disliking a gentleman who politely warned people to be on their guard against him.

Sometime after dawn, when the last of the raucous laughter and wine-slurred songs died on the streets below, a tangled-haired Kate creaked open my chamber door. Puffy eyes evidenced that she, too, had wept.

She sniffled, wiping her nose. “May I sleep with you?”

I sighed, debating. I hadn’t invited her into my world; she’d just barged in. Furthermore, I knew my desire to befriend her stemmed only from my own misery. It wasn’t fair to her. Who wished to be befriended only because there was no alternative? It went against every principle I had always stood for.

Kate’s lower lip protruded when I made no response.

“Oh, dash it all!” I lifted the counterpane and waved her to me. Henry and Elizabeth were always this reckless in their treatment of others. Maybe just once I could bend my own rule.

I laugh now at the measures I took to shield myself from the knowledge that I, too, was vulnerable and needed love and friendship.

Kate bounded toward my bed and clambered over the side. She rested her head against my shoulder and closed her eyes. “I dreamed Ben kept screaming in pain, and I couldn’t find him.”

I tucked the covers about her, warmed more than I liked to admit. “’Twas but a dream. Sleep.”