by Monica Burns
“Oh dear, you met someone in Europe.” She couldn’t help but laugh at the blush filling her friend’s cheeks.
“Yes, I did, and I want you to meet him.” Davinia turned slightly and beckoned a tall, plain-looking man toward her. “He’s so thoughtful, kind and sweet, Constance, but if you think he’s not right for me…”
“Davinia, I don’t think—”
“I trust you, dearest. I know you’ll tell me the truth.”
Her friend didn’t wait for a response; instead she stretched out her hand to the man walking toward her. As the man reached them, Constance reached out with her senses, but could feel nothing. As he kissed Davinia’s hand, she found herself liking the stranger simply because of the tenderness he displayed toward her friend.
“Albert, I want you to meet Lady Westbury. Constance, this is Albert Fowler from America.”
“How do you do, Mr. Fowler.” She extended her hand to him, and with all the finesse of a British aristocrat, he gallantly kissed her hand.
“Any friend of Davinia’s is a friend of mine, Lady Westbury.”
The smile he sent her was pleasant, and as her hand slipped from his, she saw an image of him with a child. Oh Lord, the man was married. Dismayed by her brief vision, she struggled to hide her alarm behind a smile.
“Davinia says you met in Europe.”
“Yes, we literally bumped into each other as I was trying to get a better look at a painting in the Musée du Louvre.” Fowler sent Davinia a look of open admiration, and once more the image of him with a young child flashed before her. Refusing to jump to any conclusions about the man, she opened her fan and stirred the air in front of her.
“You’re an art lover then, Mr. Fowler?”
“Sculpture mostly, but I enjoy portraits as well. My first task after convincing Davinia to marry me is to have Frank Miles paint her portrait.”
The brash comment eased some of her concerns as she saw the wild color flooding her friend’s cheeks. So he wasn’t married. Now the only question was the child she’d just seen. Perhaps he was a widower.
“I’ve told you before, Albert.” Davinia patted the man’s arm. “I’m not ready to marry anyone.”
“I’m a patient man, my dear, but perhaps I can call on Lady Westbury to persuade you to accept my suit.” He turned his head toward Constance with a hopeful expression on his face.
“I fear I have little sway over Davinia.” Constance shook her head and laughed. Despite her inability to sense more about Fowler and his character, she couldn’t help but like him. There was something about his pleasant mannerisms that said he’d treat Davinia well.
“Don’t be too sure of that, my lady.” Fowler said as he placed his hands behind his back and met her gaze in a forthright manner. “Something tells me that Davinia introduced us because your opinion means a lot to her.”
Constance’s gaze flickered toward her friend with a frown of consternation. Wide-eyed, Davinia shook her head as their gazes met. A deep chuckle rolled out of Fowler.
“Forgive me, Lady Westbury, but I wouldn’t be a successful businessman if I didn’t know how to read people. The man smiled jovially at the two women. “I’m here because Davinia wants a second opinion.”
“Albert,” Davinia gasped as another wave of color flooded her cheeks.
Startled by the man’s straight-forward comment, Constance couldn’t contain her laughter. “Are you always this plain-spoken, Mr. Fowler?”
“I’m in the steel business, Lady Westbury, and coming straight to the point has made me successful.” Fowler’s expression softened as he looked at Davinia. “But I’ve yet to be successful in convincing this wonderful woman to marry me.”
His words made Davinia blush once more, but it was the look of adoration in his gaze that spoke volumes. It was an expression she’d longed to see in Lucien’s eyes, and his strong features flashed through her head. Pain lanced through her, and she forced herself to focus on Davinia and Albert Fowler. Something told her the man wanted her blessing simply because he knew it would make Davinia happy. It was an admirable quality, but it still didn’t account for the child she’d seen with him.
“You’re most persuasive, sir. I’m surprised Davinia hasn’t already said yes.”
“She’s rather gun shy about marriage I think, but she’s particularly worried my son might not take to her.”
“Your son?” Constance studied his expression carefully.
“I’m a widower,” Fowler said quietly. “I lost my wife to childbirth five years ago.”
“I am sorry, sir. That must have been a terrible blow.”
Her senses told her his wife’s death had affected him deeply, but that his grief had ebbed until all that remained was a bittersweet sadness. He nodded at her statement then took Davinia’s hand in his and raised it to his lips.
“I never thought I’d be happy again until the day I met Davinia. She’s changed my life, and I know Harry will love her too.”
The simple declaration touched her as she saw the expressions on both their faces. She didn’t need her gift to tell her this couple was meant to be together. Davinia simply needed to overcome her fear and take that leap toward happiness.
“I’ve a feeling you’re right, Mr. Fowler. Davinia has many wonderful qualities, and from what I can see, so do you.”
Her friend gave a start of surprise as she turned to face Constance. The smile on Fowler’s face widened into a beam of delight. “Thank you, Lady Westbury. I’m grateful for your endorsement.”
“Constance, are you—”
“Trust your heart, Davinia.” She leaned forward and gave her friend a quick hug. “Be happy.”
Davinia sent her a brilliant smile as Patience walked toward them. The moment Constance saw her sister studying Fowler’s profile, she grew uneasy. She wasn’t ashamed of her ability to help others, but she knew better than to startle people with her gift. Patience on the other hand was far less discreet. The sooner she sent Davinia and her beau on their way, the better. She didn’t want Patience inadvertently interfering with Davinia’s happiness. With a quick movement, she offered Fowler her hand.
“Mr. Fowler, it was a pleasure meeting you,” she said with a smile. “But if the two of you will forgive me, there’s someone I need to see.”
“But of course, Lady Westbury. I hope we’ll see each other again.”
She nodded at the man as she turned to her friend. “I shall be quite upset if you don’t call on me in the next few days.”
“I’ll do so day after tomorrow,” Davinia said as she clasped Constance’s hand in hers. “I have a feeling there will be much for us to talk about.”
With another smile at the couple, Constance quickly moved to intercept her younger sister. Irritation marred Patience’s features as Constance blocked her way.
“One would think you didn’t want me talking with Davinia and her fiancé.”
“Blast you, Patience,” she snapped in a low tone. “You know good and well they’re not engaged—yet.”
“Yet being the important word to stress. I’m sure Davinia will make a good mother to his son and the other three children they’ll have.”
“Good Lord,” Constance muttered. “When are you going to learn it unsettles people to say things like that completely out of the blue?”
“And when are you going to credit me with some common sense? That stubborn nature of yours blinds you to far more than you’re willing to admit.”
“Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re too stubborn to admit you’re in love with Lyndham.”
Her sister’s words washed over her like a bucket of cold water, and it took a moment to recover. Inhaling a deep breath, she opened the black feathered fan in her hand and tried to move it in a leisurely fashion. Patience wasn’t deceived by her efforts to create a
nonchalant appearance.
“See, you’re not even willing to admit to me how you feel about the man.”
“I can’t admit to feelings I don’t have.”
“Liar,” Patience said with sisterly frustration. “I know you’re in love with him. I hear you sobbing your heart out almost every night. You barely eat, and now Sebastian has taken notice of your lethargic behavior. He’s already summoned Percy and Caleb into his study to discuss the matter.”
A sudden rush of anger surged through Constance. Jerking her head around, she glared at her sister. “Blast you, Patience, what have you told them?”
“I didn’t tell them anything.” Her sister arched an eyebrow at her in typical Rockwood fashion. “I didn’t have to. And we both know what will happen if our brothers decide to interfere.”
Turning away from her sister, Constance stared out at the dancers circling the ballroom floor. Patience was right. If Sebastian, Caleb and Percy interfered, heaven knew what mischief they would cause. Perhaps she should go abroad. Traveling through Europe would end any possibility of a chance meeting with Lucien. For the past two months he’d found some way to attend every social event she did.
Whether it was a simple dinner party or a ride in the park, he always seemed to be close by. On the one or two occasions he’d asked her to dance, her refusals hadn’t stopped him from pursuing her. Worse yet, she knew people were starting to talk. Lucien had made it clear he was determined to press his suit with her, which made it difficult to avoid him. Any hostess who invited one of them to a social event would ultimately invite the other.
She knew what he was doing. He meant to wear her down until she gave in to him. But the man didn’t understand the tenacity of the Rockwoods. She might love him with all her heart, but she couldn’t change who she was to be with him. Her marriage to Graham had taught her how important acceptance was when you loved someone. Lucien might think he loved her, but he didn’t love her enough to accept her gift as an essential part of who she was. No, tomorrow she’d look into the possibility of taking Jamie abroad.
She winced at the thought of her son. He missed Imogene greatly. Not a day went by that he didn’t mention the little girl or their stay at the keep. He’d even mentioned Lucien once or twice, to her dismay. Although he remembered little about his brush with death, he still had the occasional nightmare. Visiting Europe would do more than simply enhance his education. It would help him forget. It would help both of them forget. A mocking laugh echoed in the back of her mind. She would never forget.
Her gaze refocused on the dancers, and she watched Prince Edward swing Mrs. Keppel around the dance floor. Despite his devotion to the Princess, the future King of England was renowned for his affairs, and Mrs. Keppel was the current favorite. It could not be easy for the Princess. Constance’s gaze shifted to Princess Alexandra and the look of resigned pain in the woman’s face. It was a sensation Constance knew well.
Loving Lucien yet knowing they could never be happy together left her numb. Although she tried hard not to be aware of him, it was impossible for her not to experience a frisson every time he entered a room. She should be grateful he’d finally chosen to leave her be, and yet the knowledge pained her more than she cared to admit.
Still, the past week had provided some relief for the constant scrutiny he’d placed her under. Whether it was an affair at Marlborough House or some other event, she could feel his gaze on her continuously. On several occasions, he’d flaunted one of London’s professional beauties on his arm. The sight of him with another woman had filled her with intense jealousy.
Deliberate and overt, his behavior was designed to provoke a response in her, and he’d achieved his goal. But she’d utilized every ounce of willpower she possessed to suppress the Rockwood propensity for impulsive behavior and go to him. The sudden familiar frisson dancing across her skin signaled his presence. Desperately she fought to suppress the urge to search the room for a glimpse of his tall, handsome figure.
“You’ve never said why.”
“What?” Constance turned her head toward Patience.
“You’ve never said why you won’t have anything to do with the man.” Her sister’s quiet words made her wince.
“He’ll be like Graham, and I can’t live like that again. I can’t bury who I am anymore, Patience. We have the sight for a reason. Hiding it because it makes him uncomfortable isn’t something I’m capable of doing.”
Patience touched her arm in a loving gesture, and Constance saw the light of understanding in her younger sister’s eyes. “Have you told him this? Does he know this is what stands between the two of you?”
“I tried to explain it to him before I left Lyndham Keep, but I didn’t know how to make him understand.”
The sudden ripple of surprise and astonishment sweeping through the room made Patience turn toward the door. Gasping, she tugged at Constance’s arm and tipped her head toward the room’s entrance.
“Good Lord, it’s Lady Lyndham. The woman’s been in self-imposed exile for almost twenty years.” Patience looked back at her with a twinkle of mischief in her green eyes. “I do believe your Earl of Lyndham has decided its time to bring in reinforcements.”
The observation made her heart sink as she turned to see Aurora entering the ballroom on her grandson’s arm. The Prince immediately moved forward to greet her. Their conversation wasn’t audible from this distance, but whatever Lady Lyndham said amused Prince Edward greatly.
After several moments, Lucien slowly guided the elderly woman along the edge of the dance floor in her direction. Although several people tried to greet her, it was clear the dowager countess had no intention of being diverted from her ultimate destination. Constance swallowed hard as she realized Aurora was heading straight for her.
“Oh dear Lord,” she murmured.
“It would appear you’re about to be subjected to an inquisition, dearest.” Patience released a low chuckle of amusement. “From all the stories I’ve heard about the lady, I doubt she’ll avoid the topic of you and her grandson.”
A moment later, Lady Lyndham’s piercing blue eyes met Constance’s as she and Lucien halted in front of her. Immediately offering the woman a curtsey, she flushed as the formidable dowager countess looked her up and down with disappointment.
“Surely, you can greet me better than that, Constance,” the old woman huffed as she offered up her cheek.
Touched that the dowager countess thought their relationship close, Constance didn’t hesitate to kiss the woman’s weathered cheek. Satisfied, Lady Lyndham beamed at her then settled her hawk-eyed gaze on Patience.
“I take it you’re a Rockwood as well. You look like your sister.” Not giving Patience an opportunity to answer, Lady Lyndham turned her head to look at her grandson. “Ask this young lady to dance, boy. I’ll stay here with Constance.”
Beside her, Patience sent her an amused look, then accepted Lucien’s arm. Constance tried to avoid looking in his direction, but her gaze was inexplicably drawn to his face. The determination and love she saw reflected in the blue eyes so like his grandmother’s warmed and dismayed her at the same time.
He’d deliberately brought Lady Lyndham to town, knowing it would be impossible for her to refuse to see the woman. Which in turn meant he had access to her whenever his grandmother was in her company. It was his way of wearing her down, and a shiver sped down her spine as she realized this latest tactic of his might actually work.
“Come, I want to sit down. These old bones of mine aren’t used to so much travel,” Aurora said in a blunt tone of voice.
The dowager countess accepted the arm Constance offered her as the two of them moved toward an empty bench against the wall. Once seated, Lady Lyndham turned toward her.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, my lady,” Constance denied, knowing full
well what the dowager countess was referring to. Obviously the woman realized it too as she narrowed her gaze at her.
“The boy is miserable without you, Constance. And the keep has become silent as a tomb. It was a mausoleum before you came, but it’s worse now that you’re gone.”
“It can’t be helped, my lady.”
“Are you worried I’ll expect you to produce an heir? I admit a great-grandchild would be welcome, but Lucien’s happiness is my first priority. I’d almost given up hope of him ever marrying.”
“I’m sorry, my lady, but—”
“Blast it, girl. If you’ve had a vision about your future with Lucien, it can’t be as bad as everything else you and the boy have been through.”
“I beg your pardon?” Constance stared at the older woman in confusion.
“Lucien’s convinced himself you’ve had another vision. One that’s responsible for driving you away from the keep. However, I don’t think that’s it at all.” Aurora sent her an astute look. “I think you’re afraid the boy’s going to have difficulty adjusting to your gift.”
Startled by the woman’s shrewd insight, Constance looked out at the dance floor. Her gaze immediately landed on Lucien skillfully guiding Patience in a fast-moving waltz. Dressed in formal attire, he was the most magnificent man in the room. But it wasn’t the black tails and white tie at his neck that set him apart from other men. It was the raw and potent aura he exuded. It was the way he moved with animalistic grace around the room. He was powerful and masculine in the most primordial sense of the word. He looked dangerous. As dangerous as he’d looked that night at the Clarendon.
“Well, am I correct?” The dowager countess’s voice broke through her thoughts, and Constance turned back to face the older woman.
“Did Lucien bring you here or did you insist on him bringing you?” She deftly avoided answering Aurora’s question by asking one of her own. A smile lightened the woman’s still-attractive features.
“Come, take a walk with me. This room is far too hot and stuffy.”
“Are you certain you’re up to doing so, my lady?” Constance frowned with worry. The question brought a fiery look to the woman’s face as she shook her head.