Surrender the Stars (38 page)

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"I think this is extremely barbaric—and farcical!" Lindsay announced as she stepped from the Raveneau carriage outside Almack's Assembly Rooms in King Street. "How dare these women presume to pass judgment on anyone else? Who exactly do they think they are?"

Devon, looking like a girl herself in white silk trimmed with forest-green satin, recognized the signs. Unable to show her true feelings for Ryan Coleraine to the world, Lindsay vented her frustrations by criticizing whatever else was at hand. This was not the time for a mother-daughter chat, however. Instead, Devon came up beside her and gave her a meaningful pinch at the swell of her hip. "Shh! Behave yourself!" she whispered.

Indignation, now mixed with embarrassment, only heightened Lindsay's considerable beauty. Her red-gold mane was wound into a loose knot atop her head, freeing frothy curls to set off the exquisite beauty of her fine-boned face and luminous eyes. Her long neck curved downward into creamy shoulders and the first curves of her breasts, a view that was accentuated by a narrow necklace of sapphires. More sapphires gleamed in her hair and ears and were set in the ribbons that defined the bodice of her gown and the tucks in her short sleeves. All else was of the finest gossamer white muslin.

Andre and Ryan exited the carriage and joined the ladies. With Raveneau present, not to mention countless onlookers, Ryan was careful yet direct. Placing his right fingertips firmly against the small of Lindsay's back, he smiled and whispered, "Think, angel. I know you're capable."

She took note of the steely tone in his voice. Realizing he was right, her face softened. "Point taken, sir."

Ryan, for once, wore conventional garb, since one of the main rules of Almack's was that men must wear knee breeches and a white cravat. He was clad in impeccably tailored black with white stockings, shirt, and white satin waistcoat. As they went into Almack's, Lindsay's gaze swept the room and she saw that there wasn't a man present whose looks could match Ryan's. How she longed to let all these people know that they were not brother and sister but lovers. Instead, she was forced to endure the stares of dozens of females, each pair of eyes fixed on Ryan Coleraine.

"Good evening." It was Lady Cowper, the most popular of the seven
grande dames
who ruled Almack's. "So happy to see you here at last. I'm certain that we issued vouchers for the entire Raveneau family the moment you arrived in London!"

Andre gave her a smile that sent her pulses racing. "Lady Cowper, you must forgive us, but we felt that we couldn't make an appearance until we were able to waltz!"

"Oh, Captain Raveneau, you are much too charming!" she tittered, allowing him to kiss her hand. "And your son has grown into such a handsome man!"

Devon slipped between the two men, took Andre's arm, and smiled as the ladies Jersey and Castlereagh joined Lady Cowper. "It's lovely to see you all again! Have you met our children?" Greetings were exchanged, then they drifted into the assembly rooms. One by one, the other patronesses appeared to extend their rather stiff greetings: the kind Lady Sefton, the haughty Countess Lieven, Princess Esterhazy, and Mrs. Drummond-Burrell.

Like a dutiful son, Ryan brought cups of lemonade back to his family, then stood with them and regarded the company through his quizzing glass. Devon watched as a Scotch reel was concluded, the dancers looking rather bored. Even the orchestra appeared on the verge of a collective yawn.

Just then Viscount Fanshawe appeared. "Lindsay, my dear, how good it is to see you again!" His blond head bowed before her. "I have stopped several times in Grosvenor Square, but on each occasion you have been out. Mrs. Butter has always insisted that you are riding in Hyde Park, but yesterday she surprised me with the news that you had gone to visit the British Museum. Why did you not send word to me? I would have been delighted to introduce you to its wonders!"

"Oh, well..." Blushing slightly, Lindsay avoided Ryan's eyes. "I certainly would have called upon you, Dudley, but as it was, this excursion was simply a whim of Nathan's. And, in the end, he behaved very badly and we were turned out before the end of the tour...."

"I plead guilty," Ryan chimed in, his tone ironic. "Lindsay was deprived of viewing the forty-six Icelandic manuscripts."

"Forty-three," she put in, feigning annoyance.

"You see, Fanshawe? She probably would have forgiven you, but she'll never forgive me!"

Devon longed to slap Ryan. What sort of game was he playing? But she clenched her hands as Lindsay accepted Dudley's invitation to dance. They moved onto the floor as the orchestra struck up an English country dance.

Watching Lindsay attempt to copy the other dancers, Ryan couldn't help smiling. " 'Twould seem that your daughter needed to learn more steps than just the waltz," he murmured in Devon's ear as they saw Lindsay tread hard on Dudley's foot.

"You're sounding rather smug tonight, my dear," Devon replied. "What would you say if I told you your old lover was making her way toward us?"

He caught a glimpse of Hester in the crowd. A small diamond tiara gleamed against her upswept sable curls. "I would say, Mother," he replied quite grimly, "that I am about to waltz with my dear sister and haven't time to speak to Lady Chadwick."

As if Ryan had willed it, the orchestra struck up a waltz just as Dudley delivered Lindsay back to her family. Her eyes met Ryan's and they went off to dance without speaking a word.

"That's odd," Dudley murmured, watching them. "I could have sworn that Lindsay had no talent for dancing."

Remembering her inept performance two nights before, Andre replied, "So could I!"

For several long minutes, Ryan and Lindsay and Czar Alexander and Lady Jersey were the only people waltzing. The two couples swirled about joyously, years apart yet enjoying themselves equally. Lindsay's soft muslin skirts belled out behind her as she laughed up at Ryan, her breasts caught up against his chest. Watching them, Devon knew a sense of dread.

"My mother insists that the waltz is a shocking excuse for hugging," Dudley muttered.

"Mama, I must speak to you." It was Mouette, whispering harshly in her ear.

"I didn't know that you and Harry were here!" Devon exclaimed in surprise.

"Shh!" Mouette, her eyes shadowed, looked left and right. "Please say nothing to Papa. Just come with me."

The two women slipped into an arched alcove and Mouette instantly began to speak in nervous tones. "Mama, Harry has heard some very alarming rumors about Ryan and Lindsay! Something must be done before everyone whispers that they are engaged in the same sort of relationship as Lord Byron and his sister!"

Devon's heart thudded in alarm. "What are you talking about?"

"You know perfectly well, Mama! People are saying that Ryan and Lindsay's love for each other may be something more than should exist between siblings. They are saying it's
unnatural!"
Her blue eyes strayed to the dancing couple, who seemed to be laughing over some secret joke even as they turned in perfect, graceful time with the waltz. "Just look at them!" Mouette's voice rose. "Everyone will be saying that—"

"Stop it!" Devon felt like shaking her daughter soundly. "You talk as if it's true, and yet you know full well that Ryan is
not
Nathan!"

"But no one else knows it! Mama, you must
do
something!"

"I am. I've tried! And they are trying. I cannot believe that they would have behaved in a manner that would arouse suspicion. Where did Harry hear this rumor?"

"From the Earl of Chadwick!" Mouette declared triumphantly. "He told Harry that he and Lord Liverpool—the
prime minister
!—saw them with their own eyes! Fortunately, Lord Liverpool surmised that what he witnessed was merely a display of familial affection, but Lord Chadwick knew better. Mama, what are we going to do?"

Chapter 27

June 23, 1814

"I have a luncheon engagement at Watier's with Lord Liverpool," Andre told Ryan as the two men descended the stairway together. "I certainly hope that this conversation is more productive than the others I've had lately. I've begun to worry that one of our ambassadors at the peace negotiations may cross the channel to find out how we're progressing—and I don't know what I could say!"

Ryan's legs ached from waltzing and he felt only half awake even though it was noon. Coatless, he wore riding boots, fawn breeches, and a white shirt without a cravat. "I—I may have something to tell you in this area, sir, but I would appreciate a few more days to confirm my suspicions...."

Raveneau stopped on the stairs and looked over his shoulder with flinty eyes. "I thought we had agreed to share information all along, Coleraine. For all you know, I may be aware of something that would complete the puzzle for you!"

"It's a bit more complicated than that, sir. Please, trust me for the moment. I only mentioned this at all so that you wouldn't feel so discouraged about our lack of progress."

"Well..." Andre took his hat and gloves from the waiting Roderick and sighed. "There isn't time to go into it now, but we'll talk at the first available opportunity,
yes?"

"Certainly." Coleraine smiled until the older man was out the door, then threw up his hands and went in search of Lindsay. Unfortunately, he encountered further complications in the form of Devon Raveneau, who was just emerging from the second-floor morning room.

"I wish to speak to you at once, Ryan. Lindsay is on her way. I was only waiting for Andre to leave." Her blue eyes narrowed slightly. "You realize, I hope, that I refuse to go on deceiving my husband much longer?"

Obviously, Devon was in a serious mood. Lindsay appeared at that moment, clad in a soft morning dress of green sprigged muslin, her burnished curls tumbling over her shoulders.

"Good morning, Ryan." She widened her eyes at him for an instant, then crossed to kiss her mother's cheek. "Mama, you wished to see me?"

"It's nearly noon, my dear," Devon told her, indicating the place beside her on the sofa. "I take it you are fatigued after your exertions at Almack's...?"

Accepting a cup of tea, Lindsay looked warily from her mother to Ryan. "I enjoyed myself, if that's what you mean. Aren't you pleased that I learned the waltz so well? The czar told me that I outshone Lady Jersey!"

"It is not your talent for waltzing that concerns me," Devon replied in sober tones. She paused, then her face crumpled slightly. "Oh, Lindsay, there are moments when you seem a stranger! In the past you have often appeared to be the most sensible member of our family. What has become of that girl?"

Lindsay's gray eyes were unwavering. "I suppose that she came out from behind her shield of books and summoned the courage to become a woman."

Ryan's eyebrows rose above the rim of his teacup, but he said nothing.

"Don't misunderstand me," Devon went on in a strained voice, "I want you to be happy. Of course I do! And I hoped that you would blossom during our time in London. But this... relationship between the two of you is causing complications that become more tangled by the day."

"Mama, we promised you at Grimley Court that we would be circumspect, and we
have
been! Ryan has scarcely dared to kiss my cheek since the night you spoke to us—"

"What you two do in private is not relevant to this problem!" Devon burst out. "Can you not realize that each time your eyes meet, you kiss? Do you imagine that people are blind? Mouette told me last night that rumors of
incest
have begun to circulate!"

Lindsay gasped, spilling tea into her saucer, and looked at Ryan. His own expression was deadly serious. "Did Mouette say where she had heard this rumor?"

"Harry told her. Apparently, he spoke to the Earl of Chadwick who, along with the
prime minister,
must have witnessed a highly suspicious display of affection between the two of you recently."

Ryan and Lindsay locked eyes. In a small voice, Lindsay said, "It really wasn't much, Mama. We were on the street—"

"How circumspect of you!" Devon shot back.

"It was my fault," Ryan said. "We had just emerged from the British Museum. The sun was shining, I was elated to have Lindsay to myself, and I thought that no one would see us in that rather distant neighborhood—"

"Very foolish!" Devon cried. "Moreover, your explanations are meaningless. They cannot erase the damage that has been done. There is only one solution and that is for both of you to
swear
to me that you will not display even an iota of affection for each other outside of this house! And even here you cannot so much as smile at each other unless you are alone in a room with the door closed—a circumstance that I would consider ill advised at best!"

Lindsay's heart was pounding. "Mama, I've never seen you so angry—"

"Then take note of it!" Her eyes blazed. "So much can be lost as a result of your headstrong passion. Every step that has been made toward discovering whether someone has betrayed America could be erased. Even more important to me, however, is Andre. I live in fear that he will hear these rumors and discover that all three of us have lied to him! I am his wife, and we have not built a marriage of more than thirty years on a foundation of deceit. Either the two of you put your passions on the shelf until our business in London is resolved or I shall go to Andre with the truth." Devon lifted her chin angrily. "I think that both of you know him well enough to realize that he would put a stop to this nonsense once and for all!"