The Debutante Is Mine (5 page)

“Rats do not have eight legs,” she said.

He made a quick check of his shoulders to ensure that the creature didn’t leave her mate behind. When all was clear, he let out a breath. It wasn’t that he was afraid of spiders. It was the fact that—until this moment—none had ever dared trespass upon him.

Being caught off guard was a foreign sensation.
But not without a certain appeal
, he mused, watching Lilah bend near a web to allow her
pet
to disappear into the maze of vines climbing the arbor. Then, before he had a chance to truly admire the sight of her in that position again, she stood and situated her flowers securely in the crook of her arm.

Facing him, clearly fearless of both man and beast, she gave him—he was sure—her sternest look. Her eyes were sharp and soft at once, her lush lips pressed together. He wondered why he wasn’t kissing her right this very instant.

“And to answer your declaration with one of my own,” she began before he could answer that question, “
if
you return during calling hours, I will not be
at home
to you. Good day, sir. I believe you know the way out.”

Then she turned on her heel and strode away from him.

Damned if Jack didn’t love a challenge.

T
hat evening, Aunt Zinnia, Juliet, and Lilah attended an impromptu dinner at Harwick House. The day’s turn of events demanded it.

Inside the modest foyer, Marjorie Harwick bustled toward them from the hall before the butler could take their hats and wraps. “Zinnia, I’m quite beside myself.”

“We are all in a state of disbelief,” Aunt Zinnia answered with a nod. Both she and Mrs. Harwick were close friends but opposite in appearance. While the former was pale, slender, and polished, the latter was dark, softly rounded, and possessed an all-around disheveled air, though more welcoming than unkempt.

“Juliet, my dear, after the news, I feared you would not accept my invitation,” Mrs. Harwick continued, shaking her head in a way that caused her coral earbobs to sway and wisps of gray to escape her coiffure. “I do not know what has gotten into my son. I simply cannot believe that Maxwell purchased your house right out from under your nose.”

Lilah was still reeling from the news. Only this morning, Juliet had informed the marquess of her intentions to buy that house. Considering the results, Lord Thayne must have rushed off to complete this despicable act, robbing Juliet of the home that had once belonged to her parents.

Through all this, however, Juliet appeared as collected as ever. Even earlier, upon learning the details from a solicitor, she’d never ranted or even hissed. Instead, she’d merely asked Lilah to play the harp, and all the while, she’d stood facing the music room window with her hands carefully clasped before her.

“Of course I came,” Juliet said to Mrs. Harwick as she slipped the hood of her cloak down to her shoulders and bussed Mrs. Harwick’s cheek. “I do not hold you responsible for Max’s actions. In addition, I am here to demonstrate my resolve. I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing me bothered by what he has done.”

Mrs. Harwick gasped. “My dear, you are not giving in, are you?”

After unfastening the clasp at her neck, Juliet revealed a flattering burgundy evening gown with a gusseted bodice trimmed in gold embroidery. The gown made a statement. She was not a woman to be manipulated. “No. I still mean to purchase that townhouse. No matter what.”

“I am glad to hear it,” Mrs. Harwick said but then clucked her tongue. “Alas, Maxwell has always been competitive. Always trying to prove himself—though I cannot imagine what victory he saw in this.”

Smoothing a hand down her cream-colored gown, Lilah held her tongue. She was quite irritated at Thayne for his abominable treatment of her cousin. It was no wonder that he was friends with an arrogant, do-as-you-please man like Jack Marlowe.

“And Lilah,” Mrs. Harwick said, patting her hand. “I pray that you have come with good news. Have you found a particular gentleman you favor?”

The question came so abruptly that Lilah still had Jack Marlowe’s image stuck in her mind. It took a small push to clear him out of the way as she brought Lord Ellery to the forefront. Even so, she didn’t think that her need of a husband surpassed her cousin’s current predicament. Yet with Mrs. Harwick, conversations tended to circle back around eventually.

“I believe so, Mrs. Harwick,” Lilah began as they walked from the foyer into the cozy blue parlor. “Viscount Ellery possesses the land and wealth that could aid my family the most. Unfortunately, he’s also quite handsome.”

Mrs. Harwick issued a surprised laugh. “Why should that be a hindrance? I imagine most young women would prefer a handsome husband.”

“Precisely,” Lilah agreed, frowning. Lord Ellery had the look of Jasper—fleece-like waves of golden hair, clear blue eyes, and a dimple in his chin. “I’m certain many of the debutantes are vying for his attention. It’s only a matter of time before he settles on one of them.”

Of course, she didn’t know if his character was like her brother’s. Jasper had been rather roguish and insincere when it came to women.

“One of
them
? My dear, he is just as likely to choose you.” Mrs. Harwick gestured with a wave of her hand for Lilah to sit beside her on the blue chintz settee. “You have been introduced, have you not?”

Even though her
forgettable-ness
wasn’t amusing, Lilah could not stop a wry smile. “Many times, my lady. Yet he never remembers my name. In fact, most of the gentlemen I’ve met suffer from the same form of amnesia.”

“I’ve witnessed the very thing.” Juliet, sitting in one of a pair of silver striped chairs across from them, shook her head. “I cannot understand it. Lilah is polite. She listens attentively. She is accomplished in many ways, not the least of which is that she plays the harp like an angel. A perfect companion and wife for any man.”

With a delicate clearing of her throat, Aunt Zinnia commanded their attention. She was only now—ever so gracefully, of course—descending upon the other striped chair. Once she arranged her lavender skirts, she began. “I’ve been considering that Lilah needs to learn a new instrument. She should play something that demands attention, albeit in an
acceptable
manner.”

Out of the blue, Lilah imagined herself in the front of an assembly, holding a pair of cymbals.
Clash! “I dare you to forget me now,”
she would say, inciting pandemonium, incurring collective gasps and, possibly, at least one person inhaling a feather from a turban . . .

Lilah coughed.

“Yes, but is there time enough for that? She only has a few months to find a husband on her own. After that, her only option is . . . ” Mrs. Harwick slid a pitying glance in her direction and patted her hand once more. Neither Mrs. Harwick, Aunt Zinnia, nor Juliet were blind to Cousin Winthrop’s pompous and disturbing nature. Unfortunately, Mother was.

“True, very true,” Aunt Zinnia agreed. “Nevertheless, she
must
make the statement of the Season—and soon.”

Automatically, Lilah glanced at the clockstand in the corner of the room. It was painted bright white and trimmed in gold. Though to her mind, every clock might as well be shrouded in black and have a scythe for a pendulum. Time was running out, and a dire fate loomed not far enough in the distance.

“ ‘The statement of the Season,’ ” Lilah mused aloud. “Only the one named the
Original
could do that.”
No cymbals required
.

It wasn’t until the room went silent that Lilah realized all eyes were upon her.

Mrs. Harwick clapped. “Zinnia, why didn’t
we
think of this? It’s the perfect plan.”

“It isn’t that simple, Marjorie.” Aunt Zinnia unleashed her severe look upon her friend.

“Pish tosh!”
Unaffected, Mrs. Harwick flitted her fingers. “We were once
Originals
ourselves. Because of that, we were able to gain the attention of the gentlemen we desired, just as Lilah will be able to attract Lord Ellery.”

This news surprised Lilah, but it was Juliet who said, “I did not know that the two of you had been
Originals
.”

“Oh . . . ”
Mrs. Harwick said, pausing to look at each of them in turn. “Yes, but a year apart and long ago. Zinnia and I were fortunate in that regard.”

“How did you do it?” Lilah sat forward. At this point, she was willing to try anything.

Mrs. Harwick and Aunt Zinnia were tight-lipped, as if unprepared to divulge this secret. They engaged in a silent exchange of subtle shoulder lifts and raised brows. Then, after a moment, a nod.

“An
Original
must be confident,” Mrs. Harwick began. “But, in the case of a woman, demure as well.”

Lilah made a mental note to put more effort into the former.

“Good posture. Excellent carriage.” Aunt Zinnia’s cursory glance caused Lilah to sit up a little straighter.

“A degree of mystery,” Juliet added, bringing to mind their earlier conversation in the park. Lilah smiled in response.

Mrs. Harwick nodded again, her earbobs swaying. “A style of one’s own.”

“Grace in the face of adversity.” This wasn’t the first time Aunt Zinnia had said this.

“A certain”—Mrs. Harwick opened her hands, splaying her fingers—“flair.”

“And elegance in all things,” Aunt Zinnia said with an air of finality.

Splendid,
Lilah thought wryly. And she thought it was going to be difficult. She drew in a breath, absorbing it all. How exactly did one manage excellence in all things while being mysterious, stylish and . . . flair-some?

Before she could ask, however, Lord Thayne strode through the parlor door with none other than Jack Marlowe at his side.

“Good evening, Mother. Lady Cosgrove,” Thayne said with a bow. Then, turning slightly, he acknowledged Lilah with a passing nod before his gaze settled on Juliet. “And Lady Granworth, how unexpected that we should meet again.”

“ ‘Unexpected’?” A look of resolve sharpened Juliet’s features. “After what you did, I’m certain even
you
could have anticipated your mother’s extending an invitation to dine here, even if only to make amends.”

Thayne clenched his teeth in something of a smile. “Perhaps. Though I had expected you to decline or to flit away, as you are wont to do.”

In the midst of the terse exchange, Jack Marlowe kept a steady eye on Lilah as he moved into the room. Briefly, she wondered if he was trying to remember her name.

He would not be able to, she knew. And for once, she wouldn’t care a fig. Jack Marlowe was the one man whose amnesia would make her elated beyond measure. Nonetheless, she sat straighter, waiting for him to give up the attempt and for his gaze to leave hers.

His mouth quirked at one corner. “Miss Appleton. A pleasure to see you again.”

A jolt of surprise snapped through her, causing the pulse at her throat to quicken. A flood of heat prickled her cheeks and her ears turned hot too.

“Mr. Marlowe, have you been introduced to my niece?” Aunt Zinnia asked, disapproval lacing her tone.

He inclined his head in something resembling both an answer and an absent gesture of greeting. However, everyone in the room knew that ladies of the nobility deserved
first
consideration, not last. “I took the matter upon myself, earlier today in fact.”

Aunt Zinnia’s gaze sharpened. “Do you mean to say that you introduced
yourself
to Miss Appleton?”

“Yes,” he answered with a chuckle.

“Jack, that simply is not done in society,” Mrs. Harwick added fondly but with a waggle of her finger.

“It is fortunate, then, that Miss Appleton and I did not meet in
society
but in the garden instead.” He turned to Lilah, an unrepentant grin on his lips. “Unless you would consider our first meeting on the street this morning.”

So he
had
seen her. The smile, the salute—those had been for
her
? Something warm inside of her fluttered. For an instant, she nearly forgot how much she disliked him.
Nearly
.

“The street!”
Aunt Zinnia gripped the edge of her armrests. The subtle nuances in her expression that usually relayed her disapproval were now quite evident. “Marjorie, were you aware of this?”

“Of course not. Had I known, I would have made the proper introductions. After all, Jack has been Maxwell’s friend since they were in school together.”

This did not appear to appease Aunt Zinnia. “Lilah, you
must
think of your reputation. To be seen engaging in conversation with a man to whom you have not been introduced—and in a public square, no less—could endanger your options of finding a suitable match. We cannot afford to make any errors.”

Lilah knew this all too well. “Aunt Zinnia, there was no ‘exchange’ in the street whatsoever.”

“I beg to differ,” Jack added, the certainty in his tone drawing far too much attention. “I distinctly recall your smile cast in my direction.”

All eyes fell upon her. She clasped her hands to make sure she wasn’t holding cymbals after all.

“No, I was laughing at the man who had the audacity to ride a war horse in the middle of town,” Lilah corrected, forcing that errant fluttering to cease. “You must excuse Mr. Marlowe, for I believe he would like nothing more than to incite riots wherever he roams.”

Jack’s gaze dipped to her mouth. Absently, she wondered if there was something on her lip, such as an errant piece of fur from the lining of her redingote. Yet when she pressed them together, she felt nothing but her own flesh.

Juliet issued a short, hollow laugh. “Then he has chosen his friend well.”

Lilah had to agree with her cousin. In fact, she wished the gentlemen had not come at all. She preferred knowing what to expect, even if it was all doom and calamity, but with Jack, she had not been prepared.

“What is done is done,” Mrs. Harwick said as she stood and dusted her hands together. “Both with Maxwell and Jack. One cannot turn cheese back into milk, after all.”

Juliet rose as well. Facing Thayne, she lifted her chin. “However, one can sign over the deed of a house that is not rightly his.”

“I believe the
rightful
owner is the one who paid for it,” he said, his hands fisted at his side.

Mrs. Harwick hurried around the grouping of chairs to stand between the two. “We have ample time to settle this matter. For now, however, we have an issue that is even more pressing. I’m certain you can cast your animosity aside for the sake of—”

Lilah winced with dread, hoping that Mrs. Harwick was not about to mention her own troubles in the midst of all this.
And
in front of Jack. The humiliation would be unbearable.

“Lilah,” Mrs. Harwick said, her hands pressed together in prayer, as if knowing it would take a miracle to find Lilah a husband. “Directly before Maxwell and Jack walked into the room, we were speaking of ways for Lilah to gain Lord Ellery’s attention.”

Actually, Aunt Zinnia and Mrs. Harwick had been imparting secrets on becoming an
Original
. Not that such a topic would have been any less embarrassing to discuss in front of Jack. At the moment, Lilah wished that she had worn blue this evening so that she could disappear into the fabric of the settee. “There is no need to continue our discourse. The matter can wait.”