Sweet Treason (Entangled Ignite) (9 page)

“Why is that?”

“Less dangerous, Miss Nevins. Certainly less tempting. Yes, I think you should have worn homespun tonight.”

She laughed. There was as much honesty in Ryan’s sardonic assessment as there had been in Lord Devaux’s frankness. She smiled at him as they continued their promenade to the dining room.

“Was your intention to test the restraint of every man present tonight?”

“’Twas not my intent, sir. Most here are gentlemen. Had I known you’d be present, I’d have made another choice. I have good reason to know your lack of restraint.” She immediately regretted her sharp tone.

“Tch-tch.” He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Since we are likely to be running into one another frequently, we ought to make an attempt to be congenial.”

She shrugged. “Congenial is my forte.”

He laughed and continued toward the dining room. “I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear that, Miss Nevins.”

How relieved she’d be if she were not always at odds with Ryan. And, truth be told, she was tired of being at crossed swords with him.

He seated her at a small table and went to the buffet to fill two plates. As she watched him, the thought flitted through her mind that she ought to be careful. He could, if he wished, drug her food or put something in her wine. Oh, but something in her trusted him more than that—she, who trusted no one. More than Dodge. More than Samuel?

Two women entered the dining room and paused to share a whispered word behind their fans. They watched Ryan and sighed, and Emily looked back at her escort. His coat and breeches were made of black velvet, and his waistcoat was of pale-blue satin. Stark white ruffles of lace fell from the cuffs of his jacket and at his throat. White stockings revealed strong muscular calves, and his black shoes added another two inches to his already imposing height. By the standards of the evening, he appeared simply but elegantly dressed. There was nothing of the fop about him. She’d noted more than one woman appreciating the raw masculine strength and confidence he exuded.

But it was his face that held Emily. His dark eyes sparkled with fun, and she could not help but respond to his crooked grin. The truth was—
oh Lord
—a part of her adored him. And hated him, too, because his mere existence threatened everything she held dear.

“I couldn’t possibly eat all this,” she said as he put a plate in front of her.

“Try, Miss Nevins. You need it.” He glanced around, a look of boredom settling about his features. “A very good turn-out tonight, wouldn’t you say?”

“I cannot know what to expect, sir, since this is my first event.” Emily pushed a stuffed pastry across her plate with her fork.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Here come Peele and Janet.”

“Good show, Ryan!” Lord Peele exclaimed as he and Miss Turner stopped to exchange pleasantries. “I see you’ve met the sensation of the evening. Of all the blades present, how did you win Miss Nevins for supper?”

“She and I are previously acquainted, Peele. Miss Nevins is my uncle’s neighbor,” Ryan explained.

Miss Turner gave them both a cold smile. “Is that so? How nice that you found company in…Sussex, is it not?”

There was an edge to the woman’s voice that set Emily on guard. Jealousy? “East Sussex, to be precise. And Mr. Dutton is always quite diverting.”

“Sutton,” Ryan corrected.

She smiled sweetly up at him. “Of course.”

“How jolly,” Rodney beamed. “You have the jump on all the young men here with your previous friendship. They’ll be displeased to learn of your advantage, Sutton.”

“They needn’t be. I would not presume to call my acquaintance with Miss Nevins a friendship. We are—”

“Congenial,” Emily finished, widening her eyes to what she hoped would pass as a look of beguiling innocence. She pushed her plate aside and stood. “We have not been long enough acquainted to call it a friendship. If you will excuse me, I must be getting back. Miss Dodge will be looking for me. Mr. Dutton, you have been diverting, as always.”

“Sutton,” he drawled.

“Oh yes, Sutton. Well, must be going. Hope to see you all again soon.” She gave them an airy wave as she turned.

“
Quite
soon.” Ryan murmured as she brushed by him.

…

After baiting him with his name and having been so rude as to desert him publicly, Emily realized her unkindness and hurried back to the dining room to make amends. For her own conscience more than for him. Or so she told herself.

Ryan wasn’t in the dining room, and neither was Miss Turner. Lord Peele, however, waved a fork and chatted merrily with a group of friends. He signaled her over to introduce her. She visited for a few moments, enjoying Lord Peele’s wit and gentle humor. She wondered if Miss Turner knew how fortunate she was to have so doting and kind a companion. And then she wondered if Lady Peele felt the same.

As she walked down the wide corridor back to the ballroom, it occurred to her that Ryan couldn’t have returned there because he’d have had to pass her on her way to the dining room. Where could he have gone?

She paused to wonder if there were any doors to the gardens nearby. A sound, perhaps a cry, carried from a door on her right. Catching the urgency in the muffled voice, she opened the door. It was a full five seconds before she realized what she was witnessing.

Miss Turner was facing the door, and Ryan, his back to Emily, was locked in an embrace with the woman, whose hand cupped his head and he seemed to be nibbling her neck. She’d have sworn the woman glimpsed her over Mr. Sutton’s shoulder, but instead of stopping or calling a warning to Ryan, she smiled and moaned. Mortified, Emily stepped back into the corridor and closed the door, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. How could he? She’d thought…oh, she’d been so naive. He’d been involved with the woman even before he’d come through her window.

“Heigh-ho! That you, Miss Nevins?”

She whirled to find Lord Peele coming down the corridor toward her.

“Looking for a book? No need to look guilty, my dear. Kendell won’t mind. Need a hand? I can reach the high shelves for you.” A wide smile lit his face as he reached for the doorknob.

She quickly slipped her arm through his and turned him toward the ballroom. She suddenly wanted to protect this jolly man from the scene she’d just witnessed. “I’ve changed my mind, Lord Peele. I’d rather dance with you than read. Would you mind?”

“Mind? Not at all. It’s been a long time since a pretty girl asked me to dance. Janet says I dance like a man with a peg leg.”

Emily could cheerfully strangle Miss Turner. “She must be teasing. You cut a fine figure on the dance floor.” She took Lord Peele’s arm and vowed to rip Mr. Sutton’s conniving heart from his chest when next she saw him.

…

Janet moaned and pulled Ryan’s head down to her neck just as he thought he heard the faint click of a latch. He tugged Janet’s hand from the back of his head and stood back.

“Damnation, woman! Let loose. I’ve said I am done with this tawdry affair, and I mean it. I’d rather you rail at me than try to seduce me.” He’d been filled with self-disgust, and that niggling feeling had only grown worse since his conversation with Emily Nevins. What had begun as a harmless ploy to acquire information had become a stain on his soul.

She caught his arm as he turned to go. “You don’t mean it, Ryan. You cannot deny you want me.”

“That is precisely what I am doing.”

She laughed with a hint of disbelief and transferred her hand from his arm to his crotch. Her smile faded when she found him unmoved. She started to tease him, but he pushed her hand away.

“I’ve had enough of your insane appetites. There are dozens of men who would be willing to accommodate a woman who is so…generous with her favors. I’d be happy to introduce you to some if you’d like.”

Her eyes narrowed into cat-like slits. “You will be sorry, Ryan. I will see to it.”

He shrugged. “You cannot do worse to me than I’ve done to myself, Janet.”

“It’s that Nevins chit, isn’t it? Why, she’s just a dark little troll. I doubt she knows a single thing about pleasing a man.”

He clenched his jaw to keep from telling her he’d taken more pleasure in that single kiss from Emily Nevins than he’d ever taken from her. “Leave Miss Nevins out of this. It is between you and me. Our liaison has run its course. If you are honest, you will admit that.”

“Never. You keep pace with me when other men flag.”

He winced. Had he, indeed, been as insatiable as she? If so, he could take no pride in it. Ah, but he’d needed that reminder. Janet hadn’t been alone in this. He softened is voice. “You are a beautiful woman, Janet. You could have your pick of men. You will scarcely notice my absence.”

She said nothing, but the malicious light in her eyes told him she was plotting some petty revenge. He gave her a curt bow and closed the door behind him.

Chapter Nine

“In all, a most satisfactory evening,” Mr. Dodge pronounced at breakfast the next morning.

“I think Emily could be termed a success,” Theodora admitted grudgingly, “though she did dance three times with Lord Devaux in direct opposition to my advice.”

Emily sighed. She had, indeed, accepted another dance with the earl. “Do you think he was counting?”

“Undoubtedly.” Theodora sniffed. “He is likely thinking you are fast. But at least you’ve received invitations to all the important events. That is excellent, Emily, considering your lack of a title or prominence of any kind. No doubt your fortune was responsible.”

“Fortune? How would any of them know the extent of my fortune?”

“Papa has been whispering it abroad, of course. Why else did you suppose you were invited to Lord Kendell’s exclusive ball?”

Emily pushed her eggs around her plate. “I assumed it was Mr. Dodge’s consequence in society.” In all her years of dealing with Mr. Dodge concerning finances, she had never gotten answers regarding the precise extent of the Nevins holdings—only for the account holding the funds for the operation of Oak Hill Farm. “Precisely how extensive is my fortune, Mr. Dodge?”

“We shall discuss that at a later date, Miss Nevins.”

“You must have a rough figure, sir. I would like a number.”

Mr. Dodge’s jaw clenched. “You should ask your mother, Miss Nevins.”

She glanced around and then arched an eyebrow. “I do not see her here, sir.” And she knew full well that no reports had been sent to Scotland, or they’d have been forwarded to her in Sussex.

The man expelled a deep breath, and she realized he was dangerously close to losing his temper. “Your father made shrewd investments, Miss Nevins. At last accounting, it was over quarter of a million.”

“Pounds?” She swallowed hard. She’d never dreamt it could be so much. Yet she’d had to sell her mother’s jewelry in order to make ends meet. She made a silent vow to redeem every single piece she’d sold the moment she came into her inheritance, if she could trace them, no matter the price. “If I have so much, sir, why must you raise my tenants’ rents so often?”

Mr. Dodge removed a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and mopped it across his brow. “One has nothing to do with other, Miss Nevins. The investment accounts are entirely separate from the farm accounts. There’d be more, but your father sank a great deal of money into a Virginia land company. This war…well, you can likely count that money gone. He was a major stockholder.”

“I see. Still, I am relieved to know that Lucy and I will not starve.”

“Were you extravagant, you’d still be comfortable. Your mother’s decision to live quietly in the country has saved you a great deal.”

“She will be glad to hear it.” She couldn’t keep the acid from her tone.

“There is no need to be rude, Emily,” Theodora said. “Papa only has your best interests at heart. That is something your own mother cannot say.” She slid a small stack of invitations and calling cards across the table to her. “You will have noted the flowers on your way down to breakfast. I’ve taken the liberty of collecting the cards. You may encourage the men who sent the five top cards. Throw the rest away.”

Emily read the first few names, then raised her eyebrows and glanced between Theodora and her father. “Here is Mr. Sutton’s card. Imagine that.” He was likely just reminding her that he was watching her.

Theodora sipped her tea and continued. “He is remarkably handsome—Do you not agree?—and always present at the best events. He has been a fixture for several years now. I’ve been told he’s no pauper and that his holdings in America are vast. Being loyal, he fled the colonies when the wretched revolution broke out and has been here since. Hopefully he will have something left when the war is over.”

Oh, if Theodora only knew! “You’ve placed his card fourth down from the top. You find him acceptable?”

“Eminently so. The greatest problem is that he is still unmarried at eight and twenty. I wonder if there is something odd about him.” Theodora’s blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

A quick vision of him locked in an embrace with Janet Turner flashed through Emily’s mind and pierced her heart. Was he unmarried because Miss Turner was not free? In an attempt to change the subject, she read the name on the next card. “Sir Edmund Jennings? I rather liked him.”

“He and my father have had some business dealings, so if you care to learn more about Sir Edmund’s finances, you may ask him.”

Emily slid a quick glance at Mr. Dodge, who was making a show of chewing, discouraging any such questions.

“I thought him rather reserved.” A tiny bit aggravating, in fact, because he hadn’t wanted to talk about Mr. Dodge at all. She pushed her plate away and folded her hands in her lap as Theodora continued.

“He sent you flowers. They are in the sitting room.”

Ah, so that was why he’d asked where she was staying. She smiled and made a mental note to send a thank you note this afternoon.

“Sir Edmund is from a very good family of moderate wealth—the sort who would benefit from marrying an heiress, but not be required to do so. I’d say he’d be a good catch for a young woman in your position.”

“My position? Which is?”

“An untitled spinster of respectable wealth.”

Emily shrugged. “There’s another way to look at ‘my position,’ Miss Dodge. Whoever marries me will have full access to my entire fortune and estates. He will not have to wait for a father-in-law to go on to his reward, nor will he have to account to a trustee for expenditures—while I, on the other hand, would lose all my rights and entitlements to him. Is that not true?”

Theodora pondered this question, a look of respect beginning to lighten her features while Mr. Dodge looked as if he’d choke on his toast.

She picked another card from the stack. “Lord Devaux?” Across the back, he had scrawled the message,
Lay out the sand and sun. Theatre tomorrow evening?

“Ah, yes,” Theodora sighed. “He sent roses—an indecent number of roses. Lord Devaux is a dashing rogue. All the ladies adore him, and he’s a favorite at court. You may be sure that he, at least, is not a fortune hunter, though he seems uncouth one moment and beyond charming the next.”

“He is honest, Theodora. I admire that.”

“You defend him quite nicely, Miss Nevins. Do you favor him?”

“Perhaps.” She tried not to think of Mr. Sutton. “He is quite the most amusing man I’ve met…in London.”

Theodora arched one dark eyebrow. “Good, because I have sent our acceptance to his invitation to the theatre, despite his rather cryptic message. He is an earl, after all. Let them all call—Devaux, Jennings, and Sutton.”

“
Devaux
wishes to take you to the theatre tomorrow evening?” Mr. Dodge seemed to register the name belatedly. “Rather short notice. I thought you were obligated to go to Miss Roberts’s musicale. Or was it Miss Nevins’s friends, the Davises, you were to call upon?”

Theodora dabbed at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “Miss Roberts’s musicale is the day after tomorrow. We have arranged to call upon Emily’s friends from home, Mr. and Mrs. Davis, tomorrow afternoon—not tomorrow evening.”

“Then there is nothing you must cancel for tomorrow evening? And what is the purpose, after all?”

“Apart from indulging Lord Devaux, I thought it another excellent opportunity to put Emily in front of society,” Theodora explained. “There is no place like the theatre to see and be seen.”

“Devaux? Hmm. Under the circumstances, I shan’t make you send your regrets. As you say, he is an earl, and you both will look more desirable for that. You will also find an accommodation for Sir Edmund. Remember that your behavior reflects on me. I will put you out on the street before I will have a slut for a daughter.” He turned to look pointedly at Emily. “Nor will I sponsor one.”

Emily clenched her jaw to keep from making matters worse. Mr. Dodge had changed since her arrival in London. Almost as if he thought he was, indeed, her guardian. She did not care for the furtive looks he had been casting in her direction—looks that made her flesh creep. She shivered and put her fork down with more force than she intended.

“As for you, Miss Nevins—I would like a few words in private.”

Emily sighed, dreading another lecture. “Now?”

He glanced in Theodora’s direction. “In the next few days.”

She stiffened and fixed him with a cold gaze. “I shall fit you into my schedule, Mr. Dodge.” She stood and dropped her napkin on her chair.

…

“Embroil? Really, Brock, all I want is a straight answer, and I know that you, as a member of the House of Commons, know the truth. Tell me simply—is it true or not?” Emily’s intention of learning more about the war in order to understand Mr. Sutton better had been humbling. His cousins, Brock and Audrey, were taking pains to explain the situation to her, though Theodora seemed uneasy with the subject.

“’Tis true.”

“No wonder to me, then, that the colonies rebelled.” Emily went to the window in the Davis London townhome and gazed out at the busy street. She almost wished she had not brought Theodora to visit with her friends since there were questions she wanted to ask. No matter how angry she was with Ryan for his indiscretion with Janet Turner, she was suddenly feeling a bit of sympathy for the colonists. “Stamp Acts, currency restrictions, coercive and punitive actions…I am speechless.”

Brock gave her the crooked smile that seemed to run in his family as Audrey poured more tea. “If only you
were
! I think I liked you better when you had no interest in the outside world.”

“That is your fault,” she replied. “Before I began listening to your ideas and the squire’s comments regarding the war, I had no one with whom I could discuss such things. What could Parliament have been thinking? And the King! Could none of you see how unfair you were being? Has it not occurred to any of you to sue for peace and make amends?”

“We didn’t all vote to—”

“If we repeal those absurd Stamp Acts and reform the currency system, perhaps we could affect reconciliation.”

“It’s gone too far for that,” Brock sighed. “I can’t believe a negotiated peace would be acceptable to either side now. ’Tis winner take all.”

“Then God help us. I cannot comprehend the magnitude of this insanity. It is beyond all belief that rational, intelligent men could behave in so reprehensible a manner. Both sides are behaving like children. I can tell you with all confidence, Brock, if women ruled the world, this would not have happened.”

Audrey laughed. “Certainly not. We’d have settled it in a single afternoon over a stout cup of tea.”

“Rest easy, Emily,” Brock assured her. “It is unthinkable that England could lose a war to so small and poor a group as the colonists. They’ve given a good fight, but we shall win out.”

Emily turned away from the window to regard the impassive face of her friend. “What is unthinkable is that Englishmen could behave so to other Englishmen. I believe I understand the war now, but I cannot approve it.”

“Have you read any of the American’s writings?”

“No,” Emily swept her skirts aside as she came around a side table to sit on the sofa beside Theodora. “I haven’t had an interest before now. Prithee, Brock, tell me your stance in this quarrel.”

Theodora gasped. “Emily! That is a dangerous question!”

“Faugh!” Brock exclaimed. “We are friends here, Miss Dodge. My stance is the same as yours, Emily. And the same as Ryan’s. My cousin has remained loyal, despite the personal cost and inconvenience.”

Emily blinked impassively. She had wondered if Brock and Samuel were aware of Ryan’s true sympathies. She was now inclined to believe they were not.

“As it is, Ryan must go to Spain or Holland to conduct business regarding his Virginia holdings. Has to be done from a neutral country. At last count, Spain is still neutral though rumor has it they’ll soon ally themselves with France and the colonies. Don’t know what he’ll do then.”

Emily feigned indifference. “From what I know of Mr. Sutton, he appears to be quite resourceful. I should imagine he’ll find a way when it suits him.”

“Miss Nevins is right.” Ryan had paused in the doorway to the sitting room before entering. “There are no deterrents to a determined man.”

She was dismayed to realize that she was suddenly feeling slightly more sympathetic to Ryan Sutton. She looked down into her teacup, resolved to face him with an air of complete indifference despite his dalliance with Peele’s mistress.

Audrey immediately poured another cup of tea and held it out to Ryan. She sighed deeply and regarded her husband with a stern look. “Can we not discuss another subject? I hear this same rhetoric every day when you return from Commons, and I grow weary of it. I fear our children will be born reciting grievances.”

Brock laughed and placed a hand on Audrey’s shoulder. “Should you find yourself with child, I promise to stop.”

Watching her over the rim of his teacup, Ryan gave Emily a half-smile. “What accounts for your sudden interest in politics, Miss Nevins?” He gave the appearance of ease, but there was the barest hint of tension in his stance.

“That is the only subject Londoners seem to discuss outside of the scandal of the day, Mr. Sutton. And you, sir? What are your thoughts?”

His eyes hardened, and she knew he was angry at her challenge. He shrugged and left his teacup on the mantle to go look out a window. “I am anxious to have the matter resolved. I would like to see my family again before they no longer recognize me.”

Truly curious, Emily could not let the issue drop. “The Royal Navy still sails into some colonial harbors, Mr. Sutton. What is preventing your return?”

He continued to look out the window, but his voice softened. “My family has interests abroad, Miss Nevins, and no way to look after them unless I act as their agent. If I traveled between England and the colonies, I’d be subject to the vagaries of war—changing boundaries, closed ports, crossing battle lines, and arrest or conscription by either army. In the best of circumstances, communication lines are chancy from day to day. The constant need to explain one’s loyalties to whatever army is in possession of the road one travels could present its own risk.”