The Selfless Sister (8 page)

***

Dinner that night was just as silent and uncomfortable as the night before. The whole family ate in silence. Only once was there any sort of conversation when, in an attempt to alleviate the silence, Lady Linley commented to Edgerton, “All is in readiness for Lady Perry’s ball tomorrow night. You should see Alethea’s ball gown! It’s
—”

“Yes, gorgeous, I’m sure,” Edgerton impatiently finished for her. He glanced from his wife to Alethea. “Rumor has it that Belington’s brother, Alex, might attend. Is that true?”

Alethea gave him a wide-eyed innocent stare. “How would I know, Papa? If he’s at the ball tomorrow night, you can rest assured I shall stay away from him.”

“How wise,” Edgerton said in his mocking, understated way.

After hearing that last exchange, Lucinda told herself how glad and relieved she was that Lord Belington was not going to the ball. Then she wondered why she was even thinking about him. He was much too rough and masculine for her, so unlike dear Papa who was the soul of gentleness. Indeed, Belington, with his booming voice and rough, assertive manner would be totally out of place in her own quiet, well-contained little world. She could not imagine why all day today thoughts of him kept popping into her mind.

From the head of the table, Edgerton addressed her. “I understand, Cousin Lucinda, that you took a trek to the woods this morning.”

Her pulse quickened. If he knew she’d gone to the woods, how much more did he know? If he knew she’d been talking to Lord Belington...oh, dear! Despite herself, Lucinda felt her stomach clench with fear. But she lifted her chin and spoke up bravely. “I was sketching birds, Cousin Edgerton.” She managed a bright smile. “As you know, I have a great interest in bird watching and was delighted when I found a lovely little yellowhammer.” Her stomach clenched tighter as she waited for his response.

“Bird watching,” Edgerton said contemptuously. “Ah, well, it’s a suitable enough occupation for a young lady
—not too much strain on her small brain.” He looked around the table as if expecting appreciative laughter. When none was forthcoming, he continued, “I can see no harm in what you’re doing. Mind you, take care to stay well away from Belington’s property.”

“Of course,” Lucinda answered. Inside she was chiding herself for being such a coward. She, who had been silently critical of those who quivered and folded before the wrath of Edgerton, now found she had caved in herself. At least she could be grateful Edgerton was not aware of her encounter with his hated neighbor. Thank heaven, in all probability, she could completely avoid Douglas, Lord Belington, and in fact never lay eyes on him again.

* * *

The Master of Ravensbrook Manor, along with his younger brother Alex, was finishing his dinner at one end of the long, dark mahogany table in the huge dining hall. A footman replenished Douglas’s glass of port as he stared moodily into the cavernous Norman fireplace, watching as flames cast dancing shadows into the far, dark corners of the room. “Well, Alex, I see you have everything running smoothly.”

Alex, seated to his right, regarded his older brother with a sardonic eye. “Uh-oh. I know you, Douglas. That means you’ll be heading back to London soon.”

“Exactly.”

“What ails you? You’ve been in a strange mood ever since you got back from your hunt.”

“Nothing ails me,” Douglas answered flatly, ill concealing his annoyance. But then, he told himself, he had no right to be annoyed. Alex was only showing his concern, and the truth was, he truly hadn’t been himself since he’d met that girl in the woods this morning. “I’ve had something on my mind.”

“Is it something you can tell me?”

It was difficult to put into words what was troubling him when he hardly knew himself. For a moment Douglas frowned in deep concentration. “The old tragedy still plagues me.”

Alex sighed. “It goes on and on, doesn’t it? Will there ever be a time when it doesn’t hang over our lives like a dark cloud?” In a gesture unlike him, Alex gulped down the contents of his wine glass and signaled for more. “I am sick of this! Must we be burdened with someone else’s misdeeds for the rest of our lives?”

Douglas stiffened. “You know full well it has never been proven that Gregory
—”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Alex waived his hand dismissively. “Gregory was innocent, for all the good it does us. Meanwhile”
—he cocked his head inquisitively—“just what brought this on? It’s been many a year since we’ve discussed the tragedy, and now twice lately...” He lifted an eyebrow. “The forbidden subject, I recall you once called it.”

Douglas slowly shook his head. “The whole affair was brought sharply to my mind when I met a young woman in the woods this morning. Lucinda Linley. She’s Edgerton Linley’s–”

“First cousin. Come to be a companion to her Aunt Pernelia who took a bad fall some time ago.”

Douglas looked surprised. “How is it possible you know all this?” Before Alex could answer, Douglas remembered. “But of course, Miss Alethea Linley.”

Alex set his jaw in a stubborn line. “As you know, we met in London. I’ve been keeping track of her whereabouts. We shall meet again, at Lady Perry’s ball, and then again and again, if I have anything to say about it.”

“Good God!” Douglas set his wine glass down in disgust. “How could you two possibly continue to meet? At some clandestine assignation in the woods? I
—” He stopped abruptly, remembering his own meeting with Miss Linley this morning.

Alex, ever the observant one, cried, “Aha! You met Lucinda Linley and you liked her, didn’t you?”

If nothing else, Douglas was always bluntly honest. Besides, he could never fool his younger brother. “I found Miss Lucinda Linley to be most charming.”

“And you’d like to see her again, wouldn’t you?

“What if I would? I most certainly will not. What kind of fool do you think I am? Being older and wiser than you, Alex, I have sense enough to see that such a relationship would be sheer folly, doomed from the start.”

Alex eagerly bent forward in his chair. “Perhaps it would be doomed, who knows? But perhaps you should give it a chance. Come with me to Lady Perry’s ball tomorrow night. I know Alethea will be there. There’s a fair chance Miss Lucinda Linley will be there, too.”

Douglas laughed aloud at such a ridiculous thought. “I? Attend a social affair in York? Surely you jest.”

Alex grew serious. “The past is dead. It’s time to bury it.”

Long after Alex had left for his bed, Douglas sat staring into the flames. It would be madness for him to attend Lady Perry’s ball. And yet, he had received an invitation, had he not? Over the years, Lady Perry had never neglected the Belingtons. She, noble woman that she was, was one of the few around the countryside who had not totally ostracized his family. Lucinda Linley would be there. Since this morning, his thoughts had not strayed far from the slender, full-bosomed girl he’d met in the woods. What was it about her he found so intriguing? That long, chestnut colored hair—that slender figure with its delicious curves—that pert little nose—had all played a part in the maelstrom of addled thoughts he’d been in since he met her. But of more import was the way she had spoken her mind to him, all the while with that perky gleam in her eye, so unlike his Cyprians, to whose vacuous expressions he was accustomed. Rose excepted of course.

Well, no matter. Much ado about nothing. Despite Alex’s supplications, he wouldn’t dream of attending Lady Perry’s ball tomorrow night.

Chapter 6

Ready for the ball, Lucinda stopped by Alethea’s bed chamber to see if she was ready. Alethea was standing before her mirror as Celeste put the finishing touches to her coiffeur. “You look lovely,” Lucinda said, admiring Alethea’s white satin and silver ball gown.

Alethea turned to face her. “You look gorgeous yourself,” she said sincerely. Her face was flushed with a kind of eager excitement.

Lucinda was wearing what she thought of as the prettiest dress she owned, a low-cut ball gown of white lace, layered over mull, its hemline studded with a band of pink silk roses. Thanks to Celeste, her hair was swept up into a striking Grecian mode, adorned by a clasp of pearls.

Lucinda laughed ruefully. “I’ve done my best, but will it do any good? I won’t know a soul and shall probably spend the night sitting in a corner.”

“You shall be the belle of the ball,” Alethea proclaimed. “Celeste, will you go see if Mama is ready?” Alethea watched as her lady’s maid left the room. The moment the door closed, she burst, “Oh, Lucinda, I am so excited!” Lucinda wondered where the little mouse had gone, for Alethea was suddenly all aglow. Her blue eyes sparkled as she went on, “I shall tell you a secret if you promise not to reveal it to a single soul.”

Curious, Lucinda nodded. In a torrent of words, Alethea plunged ahead. “I am almost certain Alex will be at the ball tonight. He and I...” she blushed prettily ”...you see, we met in London during the Season, and immediately...well, it just happened. It was all totally beyond my control. He never told me his name, but if he thinks I did not take pains to find out, he’s mistaken. I know he’s home now, and I’m almost certain he’ll be at the ball tonight.”

“How could you know?”

“Because how could he not come? Lady Perry’s balls are the big event of the Season in York.”

“So you’re saying that you like him?” Lucinda asked, attempting to conceal her concern. She recalled the icy cold gleam in Edgerton’s eyes, that disdainful lift of his upper lip, when he spoke of the Belingtons.

“Like him? Already I adore him.” Alethea’s big blue eyes widened with bewildered innocence. “Oh, I know it’s hopeless. Papa would never approve, and if he finds out...” her eyes filled with horror...”oh, I should die!”

“Then perhaps you should stay away from Alex.”

“I cannot
.” Alethea flung out her arms dramatically. “I am like a moth to the flame! If Alex is at the ball tonight, and he asks me to dance, I shall accept, even though I know it’s practically akin to ruining my life forever.”

* * *

In the carriage, on their way to ball, Lucinda enjoyed every minute of their ride through the historic streets of York, which combined the present with historic past. She wished Papa, who loved all things historic, could be here to see the medieval walls that surrounded the city and the places where one could still see the Roman foundations upon which the walls were built.

When they reached Lady Perry’s palatial mansion on the outskirts of York, Lucinda could not help but feel the excitement of the evening as she, an excited Alethea, and her fluttery Cousin Jane, acting as chaperone, ascended the grand staircase.

They were announced. Lady Felicia Perry stood at the entrance to the ballroom to greet them. A handsome, silver-haired woman of around fifty, she stood tall, with a regal but friendly bearing about her, mixed with a touch of flamboyance. Her gown was of maroon silk, with a train, trimmed with black silk roses and leaves that formed two large bands around the hem. On her head sat a magnificent turban trimmed with feathers. In her hand she held a huge white, ostrich-plume fan. “Ah, the Linleys,” she graciously observed. “Lucinda Linley, you’re every bit as pretty as I’d heard. So delighted you could come.”

Lucinda was drawn to her immediately. She admired the older woman’s mature beauty, her bearing, her friendly charm. “I wonder why she never married,” she softly commented after Lady Perry moved away.

“Because many years ago she fell in love with a man who died,” Alethea whispered back. “His name was—”

“That will do, dear,” warned Cousin Jane. “We don’t even want to talk about the past, do we?” She and spoken sweetly, but
in a voice edged with a subtle warning.

Lucinda’s curiosity was by now thoroughly aroused, but she decided the wisest course would be to keep her mouth shut. Now, standing beside the dance floor, it was easy to see that Alethea was searching for someone. It had to be Alex. “Isn’t he here yet?” she asked.

Alethea blushed. “Am I that obvious?”

Lucinda whispered softly, “Far be it from me to tell you what to do, but try to picture the consequences if Alex really does appear. If your father hears you were even close to a Belington...I hardly know your father, yet already I shudder when I picture his wrath.”

“I don’t care,” Alethea fiercely whispered back. “I just know he’ll be here.”

“You should care,” Lucinda began, but she could see Alethea wasn’t listening. She further noted how Alethea’s bright blue eyes glowed with a mixture of anticipation, determination, and defiance. No use trying to dissuade her. She would be wasting her breath.

There was a stir by the door. Lucinda’s attention was distracted by two handsome men, both in finely cut evening clothes, who had just ascended the grand staircase and waited to be announced.

“It’s Alex,” Alethea whispered behind her fan in a deep, excited breath.

Lucinda studied the man who was the cause of Alethea’s passionate outburst. He was a slender, fair-haired man, not tall, who had the look of a poet about him. And next to him...

Good Lord! Lucinda felt her heart quicken its pace. Next to his brother, wearing an expression of supreme indifference, was...

“Douglas Wyndham, Earl of Belington,” the uniformed butler grandly announced, “and his brother, the Honorable Alexander Wyndham.”

Suddenly a total silence fell over the room. Every eye was turned toward the arched entryway where the two men stood. “What is wrong?” Lucinda inquired of Cousin Jane.

“It’s the old scandal,” Jane softly hissed back. “The Belingtons have been shunned for years. They never attend these affairs.” With keen anticipation she fluttered her fan. “How could they dare to show their faces? Oh, surely people will protest.”

Before Lucinda could answer, Lady Felicia Perry herself
broke the silence. “Lord Belington, and the Honorable Alex Wyndham!” she called, “I am delighted to see you here.” With a determined stride, her train sweeping behind her and fan held high, she crossed the dance floor to greet her two newly-arrived guests. “Do come in, sirs. Here’s the Belingtons, everyone!” Her gaze swept the room defiantly, as if she were asking,
does anyone dare object?
No one said a word. She signaled the musicians with a grand wave of her fan. “Give us something lively.”

In another moment, music was playing, and laughter and chatter ended the dreadful silence. Everyone appeared relaxed again, no one seeming to mind the sudden appearance of the Belingtons.

You said you wouldn’t come here, Lucinda silently called to Lord Belington across the dance floor. She saw his eyes scan the room, as if he were searching for someone. When he spied her, he gave a near-imperceptible bow and smiled. She nodded, returning the barest hint of a smile. He looked away again and didn’t look back. To her chagrin, she realized her heart had quickened its beat. What was happening here? Of all the men in the world not to be attracted to, it would be Douglas, Lord Belington.

* * *

For the first hours of the ball, he ignored her. Lucinda told herself she didn’t care, especially since, contrary to her fears, the dandies of York had discovered her immediately. To her relief—after all, who wanted to be a wallflower?—she was in constant demand on the dance floor. But she did care that Belington was ignoring her. Despite her best efforts to the contrary, she kept surreptitiously searching for him, noting the beauties he was dancing with, one after another. But why should he not? Doubtless he had totally forgotten their meeting in the woods yesterday, which was most certainly fine with her.

It was after supper. The orchestra had swung into a lively waltz when she sensed someone by her side.
Him
. She knew before she turned.

“May I have this next dance?” Belington inquired with that off-hand, sure-of-himself manner possessed by men of indisputable confidence.

She arranged a polite smile on her face. Not for the world would she show that his presence in the least disturbed her. “If you like,” she said with a touch of hauteur, and bestowed him her gloved hand. He led her onto the dance floor and soon was leading her, in the most expert fashion, in a series of dips and twirls.

“My, my, what a surprise to see you here, m’lord,” she murmured.

He leaned back, eyeing her curiously. “And why is that?”

She was not one to
shillyshally. “If memory serves correctly, I distinctly recall you said, and I quote,”—she dropped her voice to imitate a man’s—“‘no, I won’t be going to Lady Perry’s ball, or any of the social events of York.’” She slanted a mocking gaze at him. “As I further recall, you laughed when I asked you, as if you found my question exceedingly amusing.”

“That’s because at the time I did.
 

“Then what changed your mind?”

“You did.”

She laughed, although underneath she was jarred by the implication of his words. “If I believed that, I would also believe my yellowhammer is about to land above us on the chandelier.”

He glanced up, as if expecting the event to occur. With a shrug, he said, “So we’re back to the bird again. And here I was trying to tell you that ‘twas only your charming presence that brought me to the ball—risking, I might add, the embarrassment of being shunned.”

“But you weren’t, were you?” she answered lightly. She wondered if he could possibly be telling the truth about why he was here. No, how ridiculous. He hardly knew her. He had to be teasing. “I noticed how you rushed to claim all my dances the moment you arrived.”

He raised an amused eyebrow. “You were watching me?”

She was saved from answering when a passing couple jounced her and she found herself pressed hard against him. It was only for a fleeting second, but long enough to feel his strong, lean body up and down the length of herself. She felt herself blush and remarked, “Forgive me, I...”

“What for?” he asked with a mocking laugh. He gave her body a bold, raking gaze. “Women are such fools when it comes to men.”

She knew exactly what he meant and was suddenly aware his show of manners was only what society demanded. This was no London dandy, this was a grown, mature man, and lying just beneath the surface of his mannered facade lay the raw power of his masculinity, but thinly disguised. She sensed the movement of his breathing
—saw the desire for her that flashed like summer lightening in his eyes—felt the sudden trembling of his arm about her waist. He wanted her, in a way she knew little of. But she wanted to know. He had struck a vibrant chord within her and she found herself fighting an insane desire to press against him again. Mercifully, reality struck. She realized what a dilemma she was in, so very unusual for her, and hastened to collect her thoughts, casting a quick glance as she did so at the line of chaperones who sat stony faced along the dance floor. As she suspected, practically every eye was upon her. The deuce! She must gather her wits. What had she and Belington been talking about? Oh, yes. “I do believe you’re joking when you claim it’s only my so-called charming presence that brought you to the ball.”

“I must confess, I could not stay away tonight,” Belington responded in a pleasant voice. “Actually, it was yesterday when I met you in the woods that I was quite taken by your interest in bird watching. I could sense your keen excitement over having actually seen a yellowhammer”
—a twinkle filled his eye—”as well as the loathing you felt when you saw me for what I was—the depraved bird murderer.”

Laughing, aware he was teasing again, she cried, “Enough!” as she lightly tapped his shoulder with her fan. She chose to ignore his snide comment and continued, “But of course how could you claim me earlier, surrounded as you were by all those local belles? Which rather surprises me, considering...” Chagrined with herself, she wanted to bite her tongue. She had been about to mention that unspoken topic.

“Considering I am a pariah?” he finished for her.

“A pariah is a social outcast,” she responded quickly. “Surely you must know I wasn’t going to say that. Besides, you are here, aren’t you? Enjoying the evening? I haven’t seen you being shunned by anyone.”

“To my surprise,” he said, dropping his teasing mode and growing serious. “So tell me, Miss Linley, why are you dancing with me when Cousin Edgerton will doubtless have you hanged and quartered if and when he finds out? Let alone, I can hardly imagine what ghastly fate he’d reserve for me. Have you no fear of the consequences?”

She countered, “If you knew that to be true, then why did you ask me to dance?”

A genuine expression of worry crossed his face. “I shouldn’t have. It’s just that your charms are so overwhelming I could not resist.”

Was he serious or just teasing? Either way, her good sense told her she should cut this dance short and not even think of dancing with this man again. “Edgerton doesn’t need to know every man I dance with,” she said defiantly, “but even so, I think it best this should our last dance.” A vague disquiet overtook her. She had said those words reluctantly. Now she realized she hadn’t wanted to say them at all. But what choice did she have?