To Ruin a Rake (21 page)

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Authors: Liana Lefey

Tags: #Historical romance

BOOK: To Ruin a Rake
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Out of the corner of her eye she saw her escort shoot Manchester a black look. A rush of both triumph and trepidation swept over her as Russell’s challenge was answered with an equally ominous glare from her enemy. She’d blocked Manchester for the moment, but he wouldn’t give up. She’d have to somehow make his harassment of her work to her advantage.

Baiting Nanette had been a stroke of genius. She just hoped it had been enough to tempt the girl into trying to lure one of her pursuers away. But whether she’d try to recapture Russell or pursue Manchester was anybody’s guess. She hoped it would be Manchester.

Harriett marveled at the sheer size of Sandwich’s London house, which was palatial compared to her own family’s modest residence. Upon entering the cavernous dining hall she spotted Lily, whose brows shot skyward at the sight of her with Russell.

“Harriett, dear, and Lord Russell. What a pleasure,” said Lily, rising as they approached and smiling as though there was nothing extraordinary about their being together.

Russell bowed. “Likewise, Lady Seymour.”

“And Lord Manchester,” said Lily, looking beyond them and curtsying. “It has been too long since you last granted us the pleasure of your company, Your Grace.”

Harriett shivered a little as his voice answered from behind her, “Regrettably, I have been remiss in fulfilling my duty to my friends these past few years. I shall next week write to your father and convey my sincerest wish that he might call upon me at his leisure in the hope of renewing our friendship. You and the rest of your family are most welcome to accompany him.”

“That is most kind of you, Your Grace,” replied Lily. “I know they will be delighted.”

The sight of her pink cheeks and happy smile made Harriett’s hackles rise. She tried not to think of the possible reasons why Lily had neglected to mention that she knew him personally. “Perhaps you might like to join us today, Lily, since I know you enjoy hunting as much as I,” she invited, shoving aside her misgivings. “We are sitting out the morning pursuit, the three of us. Why not make it an even four?”

“Indeed, Lady Seymour,” chimed in Manchester. “I should like a chance to learn how your family has been since I saw you last.”

“With four, we might also play cards should the desire take us,” Harriett added, smiling encouragement. “Or a game of bowls, once the grass has dried.”

Lily looked at her with a knowing twinkle in her eye. “I think it would be a delightful way to pass the time.”

Harriett relaxed. All was well. Lily was just being polite and sociable. After all, Manchester had said he was friends with her father. Why should she not be acquainted with him?

They found a table and sat together nibbling at fruit and pastries. The dining hall was merry and the atmosphere increasingly electric as the other guests grew excited about the impending hunt.

Harriett glanced across the room and spied her sister sitting with a handsome and quite obviously enthralled young man. To his left stood the Earl of Winchilsea, who gazed at the animated Cat with assessing eyes. Every now and again, he gave a little nod of approval.

Harriett smiled to herself. Her sister would be a countess before the end of the Season.

“Why is Lady Arabella not with you today?” asked Russell, drawing her attention.

She adopted a mournful expression. “I’m afraid she took ill several weeks ago. A malady of the lungs. She is staying away from London until she has regained sufficient strength to withstand the air.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “For the best, then. Lady Catherine certainly seems to be enjoying herself.”

“She is a most cheerful, easy companion,” Harriett said, her smile returning. “In all her life, I have never known her to be brooding or sullen.” No indeed. Cat never brooded. Her anger came and went as swiftly as a summer storm, and woe to the one standing in its path. But she never brooded.

A hard look came into Russell’s blue eyes as he stared at the couple. “Happy is he that marries a woman of open temperament,” he muttered. “His home will be a peaceful haven of sincerity as opposed to a nest of falsehood and discord.”

Harriett blinked at his bitter tone. “I do hope so, for her sake.”

Looking at her, he flushed. “My apologies, Lady Harriett. Forgive me, I spoke out of turn.”

“Not at all.”

He seemed to struggle for a moment, but then stood and offered his hand. “Lady Harriett, will you take a turn about the room with me?”

Mystified, she rose and took his arm.

When he spoke, it was in a hushed voice. “Though it is unseemly to discuss private matters in public, this may be the only opportunity I am afforded; therefore, I feel compelled. I would rather you know the truth from my lips than hear a falsehood from someone else and be misled. And yet I fear you will look upon me unfavorably for what I must say.”

“You may say anything to me without fear.” She might come to regret saying that, but she needed to know what had him in such a state. “Although it has been some time since we last spoke, it is my hope that you will view me as a friend.”

The look he gave her was both hopeful and wary. “You know of course that I was engaged to be married and that I recently withdrew my suit, breaking that engagement.”

She nodded. This was about Nanette, then.

Leaning closer still, he again lowered his voice. “I want you to know that I did not do so in the hope of renewing my pursuit of you, as you may have heard said. I did it because I came to understand the lady’s affection for me was false.” Stopping in a quiet corner of the room, he hesitated, searching her eyes. “You were never anything but honest with me, and I wish that to remain unchanged. If you desire only my friendship, you need but tell me and I will be content.”

This was
not
about Nanette. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “Lord Russell, I hardly think I can ask any more of you than your friendship.”

Still searching her eyes, he slowly nodded. “An honest friend is of more value than any false expression of greater sentiment. Know that I have the utmost respect for you, Lady Harriett. Please accept my humble apology for my past conduct. I blame the brashness of youth.”

George’s great toe!
It was the last thing she expected from him. “We were both young and far less wise than we are now. Let bygones be bygones.”

“Thank you,” he said solemnly.

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Thank heaven that’s over with!

Then, as she was about to suggest they resume progress, he spoke again. “I made a request of you, one you answered graciously. Is there anything you would have of me?”

It caught her off guard.
Think, Harriett!
“Well…you were honest concerning your feelings for me then, I would have that same honesty of you now. True friendship can be built upon nothing less than absolute trust.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, betraying his nervousness. “Very well. Although I did not intentionally design it to coincide with your reentering Society, I will say I am now glad to be unobligated. Were I not, we could not be friends.” He looked down, his pale lashes trembling. “I will in no way attempt to press you for more than your friendship, should that be all you are happy to give. Having said it, should there be the slightest hope…”

She ought to have been relieved. This was exactly what she needed. Even so, she couldn’t lie to him. “I do not know whether it may be so, Lord Russell. But I am willing to entertain the possibility.”

Fire returned to his blue eyes once more, and a faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “That and your honesty are all I ask.” He escorted her back to their table. “I must tell my father I’ll not be riding the hunt. Please excuse me for a moment.”

He’s changed.
For certain, the Lord Russell who departed now was not the same man she’d known two years prior. He was still emotional and impulsive—she knew not another man who would have spoken to her so openly concerning his feelings—but there was something different about him. Few men were brave enough to break an engagement for anything less than a flagrant violation of trust. And few men had the courage to face a mistake and apologize for it. Most would sooner die.

Before she could move to sit beside Lily, Manchester stood and intercepted her. “I see your sister is making good use of her time. Winchilsea is a rather naïve fellow, but perhaps it is better that he should be so—for both their sakes.”

She refused to look at him. “I would much rather her marry a gentle fool than a cunning snake,” she murmured, edging her tone with acid. “A fool may eventually learn and become wise, but a snake will always be a snake.”

“Just be certain you can tell the difference,” he replied, inching closer. “A clever snake often hides itself behind a false veneer of gentility.”

“Every snake
I’ve
ever had the misfortune to meet has almost at once shown itself by its actions,” she retorted. “Which is why I base my opinions of people on how I see them treat others rather than on their outward appearance. Handsome is as handsome does, so to speak.”

“Are you implying you find me handsome?”

She bristled at the smile in his voice. “Are you admitting you are indeed the serpent I have deemed you?”

“Why should I bother? You have already condemned me and begun tying the knot in the noose,” he said, his low laugh eliciting a shiver. “But whether or not you’ll be able to get the rope ‘round my neck remains to be seen.” He withdrew, still chuckling.

Harriett managed to calm herself before Russell’s return, which was blessedly not too long in the coming. The morning was passed in conversation, cards, and even a bit of song as at one point one of the other ladies began to play the harpsichord in the drawing room. Harriett had been right about one thing: she and Lily were the absolute envy of the other ladies, Nanette in particular. The woman stared at them like a baleful Fury.

After being forced for three solid hours to endure Manchester’s company, Harriett had no choice but to acknowledge that he was as skilled as her sister at making people like him. Even Russell warmed to him over the course of the afternoon. Her enemy was gregarious and charming almost to the point of making
her
forget what an ass he really was.

Almost.

Lily went to visit another friend and Russell excused himself to find the gentlemen’s, leaving her alone with Manchester.

“Russell’s putting it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”

“No more so than you,” she quipped.

“Or you, for that matter. Do you honestly think he’ll come to your rescue?”

“From what would I require rescuing?” she said, eyeing him with disdain. “And in case you were unaware, Lord Russell and I are friends. I feel no need to ‘put it on’ for him, Your Grace.”

His expression remained one of amusement. “If that is what you call friendship, then it is no wonder we are having so difficult a time achieving that blessed state, you and I.”

“If you wish to befriend me, you may start by ending this charade of yours and leaving me alone,” she hissed, glancing about to be sure no one overheard them arguing.
Do not lose your temper, Harriett!

“Ah, but where would the fun be in that?” he asked, his lips parting in a toothy smile. “Besides, I would much rather be in here with you than out there.”

“And why is that, may I ask, when I so clearly wish nothing to do with you?”

He leaned forward, his honey-brown eyes full of mischief. “Because I wish to be certain I know the
real
you before I decide.”

A rash of goose bumps rose across her skin. “Decide what?”

“What to do with you.”

And there the conversation ended, because at that moment Russell returned. Harriett was half tempted to send him off to fetch her something so she could continue the discussion with Manchester and find out what exactly he’d meant by “do with you,” but Russell’s expression on seeing the man sitting beside her told her he wasn’t about to go anywhere any time soon for any reason. She had no choice but to bite her tongue and carry on.

Papa and the hunters returned shortly, saving her from further anxiety. It was a jolly, rowdy return, and her windblown sister was at the heart of it all. Harriett observed Cat’s glowing face and triumphant demeanor, as well as the admiring way the heir of Winchilsea gazed at her.

“I took the paw, Harriett!” she gasped. “Well, I and Hammond, that is,” she amended, glancing at the man beside her with bashful eyes.

His already ruddy cheeks deepened in color. “We rode like the wind, did we not, Lady Catherine?” he said, his voice trembling with excitement.

“Indeed we did, my lord. It was exhilarating,” said Cat, favoring him with an equally adoring gaze. “I’ve never felt so alive.”

Harriett could almost see Cupid’s golden arrow slicing through the man’s chest to lodge deep in his heart. She shook her head and smiled. Heaven only knew what she would give to have been born with Cat’s seemingly innate skills. She waited while the others in her little group congratulated the pair on their skill, and then Cat and her new beau insisted she come away and celebrate with them. Glad for any excuse to leave behind the irksome Manchester, Harriett pulled Russell along with her.

She turned ask Lily to join them, but Lily wasn’t paying attention. She was already walking away with Manchester. Harriett’s stomach knotted as the sound of his laughter drifted back above the din. For a brief moment, she saw his smiling profile as he turned to listen to whatever Lily was saying.

He really
was
quite handsome when he smiled like that. Movement to the side drew her attention, and she marked the approach of Nanette Finchly. The girl gave her a look that would have doused Hell’s fires and then turned to follow Lily and Manchester, her intent to join them clear.

Free to do so amid the group of noisy merrymakers, Harriett chuckled aloud. If all went well, Nanette would keep Manchester well occupied this evening.

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