Authors: Ashley March
Willa lifted her chin. “She is my hired companion.” She paused, because Sarah had remained with her for far too long to be thought of as a mere companion.
“A s well as a dear friend. A nd in truth, I wished for her to go before us because I would have a private word with you before we enter.”
His eyes narrowed. He saw her attempt at distraction, and yet he was intrigued.
It was altogether dizzying, how well she could read him at times and yet how he remained an opaque mystery to her at others.
“Please,” she added. More of a perfunctory request than a pleading. Her tone the same as if she’d just needlessly attached the word to the end of a command addressed to a servant. He tried to hide it, but still she saw the slight curl at the corners of his mouth.
“Very well,” he said, then retreated down the steps and gestured for Sarah to replace him at the door. Willa followed, then turned toward him. He imitated her movement. They stood facing each other, no more than a foot apart. “Yes?” he asked, his voice lowered. “What is it you wished to say?” A t last the door opened. They both watched Sarah disappear inside. It remained ajar, the footman waiting for their entrance.
More time was needed for Sarah to speak with Lady Marianna. Willa took a deep breath. She made her voice soft. “I’m sorry. For the kiss.” A ll traces of a smile disappeared from his face. “You admit now that you were the one who kissed me?”
Such arrogance. A s if his lips had not been involved, as if his tongue had not courted hers. “No, I admit no such thing. I am only sorry that it happened. I hope courted hers. “No, I admit no such thing. I am only sorry that it happened. I hope there will be no repeating of the occurrence this time.” Then, simply because she knew it would aggravate him to no end, she said, “I might need to save every kiss for Woolstone when we meet.”
His expression hardened and he stepped closer. Six inches away. “Leave England. Go anywhere else to increase your family’s fortune. Snare all the investors you like. Better yet, return to A merica and stay there forever.” Willa inhaled deeply again, this time at his nearness. Of course he would try to give himself the advantage by dressing as he did in his tan trousers and jacket, the color of which only emphasized the dark brown warmth of his eyes. The cut of his clothes showed off his broad shoulders, the leanness of his hips, the muscular length of his legs. He knew his appeal to the fairer sex, and he used it well.
Lifting her lashes, she realized her mistake when she found him watching her.
She’d done what she said she wouldn’t; she’d been caught ogling him. When A lex’s eyes narrowed and his gaze began to fall below her face, Willa crossed her arms over her chest.
“I must admit that I would like more than anything to return to A merica and never see you again,” she said, then nearly shook her head. She’d become quite the proficient liar since Italy. Not only did she have no intention of ever returning to A merica; she hadn’t felt so alive since he’d kissed her. “But I think it will be difficult at first, especially since your sister has invited me to her dinner party on Thursday.”
His attention snapped upward. His mouth opened—
“Yes, Jo invited me to Holcombe House last night when we were at the Winstead masquerade.”
“I assume you coerced her somehow.”
“A ctually, there was no need to coerce her.”
“She knows who you are.” He’d made sure of it on the return home in the carriage. They’d also discussed her attempts to sabotage the evening.
“Of course she knows who I am. We’re friends.”
His brows slashed downward. “You’re not friends.”
“We are. I call her Jo; she calls me Willa. We laugh together, talk together, and get along merrily.”
“A h.” He rocked back on his heels, smirking. “I would have believed you if you’d omitted the parts about ‘laughing’ and ‘merrily.’”
“It might have been an exaggeration,” Willa acknowledged. “She does smile quite a bit, though.”
A lex’s mouth thinned. “You’re not coming to the dinner party. You don’t have a written invitation.”
Willa smiled her secretly amused smile. “See you tomorrow evening,” she said as she climbed up the steps, her voice full of cheer.
A s she was magnanimous, she forgave him for the grumbling curse he sent after her as he followed her into the Byrne town house.
after her as he followed her into the Byrne town house.
A lex strode up the steps to Holcombe House, his jaw clenched. Nothing beyond an introduction to Lady Marianna had been accomplished today. A nd although it seemed Willa hadn’t fared any better in soliciting information from Woolstone’s sister, either, he’d seen her gaze light with suspicion when Lady Marianna greeted A lex. When she mentioned how she looked forward to visiting Holcombe House for the dinner party.
He startled when the door was opened before him; he still hadn’t become accustomed to the servants’ presence.
Handing his hat to Tribbley, he asked: “Where is Jo?” He didn’t feel much in the mood for long-winded, effusive sentences. He was presently maintaining the barest control on his temper; in only those three words spoken aloud, he internally inserted a string of ten epithets.
Tribbley brushed away a speck of dirt from his hat. “I believe she’s in the sitting room with the others, sir. Miss Ross is here.”
“Thank you.” Spinning on his heel, A lex ran up the stairs to the first floor, then shoved the door wide open as he entered the sitting room.
“A lex!”
“A lex!”
“A lex!”
His three youngest siblings scrambled from where they’d been sitting cross-legged on the floor like the little heathens they were and rushed him. Laughing, A lex swept David and Victoria into his arms, grunting with the weight of the nine-year-old boy and cursing inwardly when five-year-old Victoria accidentally kicked his groin.
“Hullo to you, too, rascals.” Setting them down, he strode forward to Philippa, who was waiting nearby. Crouching at her level, he reached up and mussed her carefully plaited hair. “There. You look much better—more like my sister, at any rate.”
Pippa grinned a gap-toothed smile, her sightless eyes fixed somewhere near his ear. “You would be very proud of me, I think. I haven’t yet once today screamed at Miss Ross.”
“That is a vast improvement. I’m certain she appreciates your restraint.” Taking her hand—he and Tor were the only ones she allowed to do so—he led her forward to the middle of the collection of chairs and settees.
“Good afternoon, Miss Ross,” he said, nodding to their dialect tutor.
“Mr. Laurie.” She glanced away, a hint of pink rising to her cheeks.
To her left, his mother sat with A nne and Kat. She frowned at him. But he hadn’t come here for today’s speaking lesson; no, he had come to find the very annoying and contrary older sister seated to Miss Ross’ right.
He released Pippa’s hand as she sat with David and Tor, then stepped forward to stand in front of Jo. “Come.”
Her brows rose first, arching higher and higher until they reached the Her brows rose first, arching higher and higher until they reached the appropriate height of disbelief. Then her chin lifted, and she stared at him. “Did you just order me to your side like a dog?”
Miss Ross cleared her dainty, ladylike throat.
“I’m certain a dog would be far more obedient. Now, Jo.” Heaving a great beleaguered sigh, she rose and swept ahead of him out of the room.
He bowed to the rest of his family and Miss Ross. “I beg your pardon. Please excuse us.”
On the floor, the children giggled.
Jo waited for him outside the door with her arms crossed, the fingers of one hand drumming on the opposite forearm. “You do know we’re the ones who need to be in there most of all? Unless, of course, you’ve given up this ridiculous plan to secure a lofty and aristocratic spouse for each of us.”
“I wish you to rescind the invitation to Miss Stratton.”
“Who?”
A lex curled his hand. Inside his fist, he held the last remaining shred of his patience. He squeezed it tightly. “Miss Willa Stratton, the woman with the diamond mask that you met at the Winstead masquerade ball. Do you remember her? Perhaps she was lying and you didn’t invite her to the dinner party.” Jo waved her hand with a sly smile. “Of course I remember her. No, I invited Miss Stratton. I liked her very much, actually. A nd I had assumed that you did as well. You did dance with her three times, didn’t you?”
He glared. “I want you to rescind your invitation. Immediately.”
“Rubbed on your nerves, did she?”
“She’s Willa Stratton.”
“Willa Stratton? Why didn’t you say so?”
“She’s trying to compete with us.”
“With us, or with you?”
“God, Jo, do you have to question everything I say? Can’t you—just once—do as I ask without questioning my decisions?”
The spark in his sister’s eyes dimmed. “Miss Ross wouldn’t be very pleased to hear you speak in such a manner, my dear fellow,” she said, in English more perfect than even the aristocrats could speak.
A lex narrowed his eyes.
“But yes, I’ll do as you say. Thank you for asking so nicely. Now, if you are feeling generous toward me at the moment because I acquiesced so easily—” Jo had never done anything easily.
“—then I’d like to renew the discussion of the accounts. Where did you hide them?”
A lex frowned. “Tribbley told me you were up in the middle of the night searching again. We’ve already spoken about this. Ladies who marry a titled nobleman do not review ledgers.”
“If I ever do marry—which I’m not sure I will, and I hope to God it’s not to one
“If I ever do marry—which I’m not sure I will, and I hope to God it’s not to one of your pansy-faced nobs—I would hope that he’d be happy to allow me to look over his estate books. I’m sure I’d have much more of a talent for it than he or anyone else would.”
A grizzled, gray-haired old man, his skin as tough as leather, spun his grown daughter around the room. “That’s my girl, Jo! What would I do without you?
A lex, Jo thinks if we can find only eleven more investors with a thousand pounds each—”
A lex shook his head. “Father wouldn’t have wanted you to continue taking care of the accounts this long, Jo.”
It was the excuse he gave her, though not the true reason. Like his mother’s mourning veil, the accounts were his sister’s monument to their father. She intended to grieve for him for years, perhaps decades. She would give up the rest of her life to remain close to the things he had loved.
Her chin lifted. “He trusted me. I took care of them before he died. Before you returned from your last trip. When you weren’t here.” She struck low, but blindly.
Unfortunate that her anger was accurate. He didn’t allow anyone to see that he, too, continued grieving. It was more difficult than he’d thought, to know his father was dead only by his prolonged absence. To not have said his farewell, to not have seen him stilled, without breath.
“Where are the ledgers, A lex?”
“I’ve assigned them to someone else.”
Her mouth tightened, and not for the first time since he was nine and she was ten, A lex was grateful for the advantage of his height. She was petite, her head coming only to the center of his chest, and it was difficult to be intimidated by a slip of a woman that he could most likely carry under his arm if he wished.
“We should return to Miss Ross’ lesson,” she said. “Your accent has slipped a few times just in the last several minutes.”
“We are agreed that you will rescind Miss Stratton’s invitation?”
“Yes.” Jo turned away and opened the door. “But I will find the ledgers,” she vowed. “That we have not agreed upon.”
Willa took the hand of the servant and stepped down from the Mivart carriage.
Sarah soon followed, and together they stared up at Holcombe House, the current Belgrave Square residence of the Laurie family.
“Well,” Willa said. “It’s beyond me why he’s still so upset about the incident in Italy. He’s obviously very wealthy even without Contarini as an investor.” Sarah studied the Holcombe mansion—for truly, the term was far more apt than
“house.” “They’ve improved it since Holcombe died,” she said. “Or at least, had someone clean all the windows of cobwebs and scrubbed the dirt from the exterior. New servants, perhaps?”
“Perhaps.” Or, more likely, a new master who refused to let anything stand in his way, including a layer of grime and attitudes of carelessness.
A s they climbed up the steps, Willa murmured to Sarah, “I’m not quite sure of A s they climbed up the steps, Willa murmured to Sarah, “I’m not quite sure of the reception I’ll receive. If he threatens to throw me bodily out the nearest window, I trust that you’ll be able to make it back to the hotel by yourself?”
“If he throws you bodily out the window,” Sarah replied, “I will be returning to my home, not the hotel.”
“Very well, then. You must do as you will—I only ask that you remember me kindly. None of that nonsense about forcing you to take strolls with me in the park at ungodly hours.” Willa peeked toward both sides of the doorstep and was very relieved to find bushes beneath the windows. A nd they didn’t appear very prickly. Her gaze lifted. But, of course, if one were thrown from the drawing room upstairs, the bushes weren’t likely to cushion a fall very well. She had no doubts that A lex would be furious that she’d come, even after she received a note from Jo rescinding her previous invitation. But he was a fool if he believed she would let him alone with Lady Marianna for a few hours.
The door opened at their arrival. A handsome, dark-haired footman welcomed them inside. “If you will follow me, I will escort you to the drawing room, where the butler will announce you.”
Willa exchanged glances with Sarah. She might have been correct about new servants, after all. This one sounded as if he were reciting lines.
The sweep of the staircase led them in a semicircle from the ground floor to the first, and as they climbed, their view wended around the grand marble-checkered entrance and the painted dome above.
Good heavens. She’d always believed her family to be wealthy, but this residence was twice as grand as her father’s house. A s they reached the first floor and followed the footman toward the drawing room, Willa said to Sarah, “You remember what we discussed in the carriage?”