Alerted an hour later, Allegra walked down the hall, rapped twice and entered Lady Lynton’s bedchamber.
Since she’d never before sought out her aunt, Allegra was not surprised to see that Sapphira looked startled before her eyes narrowed in annoyance.
“What do you think you’re doing, invading my bedchamber?” Sapphira demanded.
“I should rather ask what you think you are doing,” Allegra replied calmly. “But then, I already know. Lord Tavener told me what you proposed to him, madam. A dreadfully common scheme, don’t you think, Aunt Sapphira?”
Sapphira’s blue eyes opened wide. “Tavener told you…! Why, that…that brigand! I mean, how could you possibly believe anything said by a man of his stamp? If he speaks spitefully of me, ’tis only because I rebuffed his distasteful advances—”
“Oh, shut it,” Allegra interrupted. “As I said nothing specific about what he’d alleged, your very denial convicts you, so spare me the protestations of innocence. You have done everything you could think of to ruin my presentation from the moment Rob informed you I was to have one. Thus far I have kept silent, but no longer. Your distasteful little game can be played by two, madam.” Allegra fixed her unsmiling gaze on Sapphira and waited.
Lady Lynton lifted an imperious hand as if to dismiss her, then hesitated. Though Allegra doubted her glare was as forbidding as Tavener’s, apparently it was well enough, for after a few moments of hard scrutiny, Sapphira broke the silence to ask, an edge of nervousness in her voice, “What do you mean to do?”
“If I learn you are hatching any more schemes to discredit me, I shall tell Rob what Lord Tavener told me.”
Sapphira’s eyes widened with dismay for an instant before she set her face in an expression of disdain that did not quite manage to mask her concern. “You wouldn’t dare repeat such nonsense to Lynton. He’d dismiss it in a moment with the contempt it deserves.”
“Would he? Recall that we grew up together, madam. If I were to appeal to him, which of us do you think he’d be more likely to believe?”
“You—lowborn daughter of a traveling musician!” Sapphira cried, rage distorting her lovely features. “Do you really dare threaten me?”
“Oh, I dare. Though even I am not quite so daring as you, my lady. Suppose I were to reveal to Rob what I know concerning events that transpired in this house before his father’s death. Things I heard when I stepped out for air those evenings I kept vigil over Uncle Robert and you entertained the cicisbei come to console the distraught wife whose husband lay dying. The rustlings, the gasps, the little moans.”
Though Allegra’s words were a gamble based only on the little she’d overheard and her assessment of Sapphira’s character, she was close enough to the mark that a momentary flash of fear escaped Sapphira’s pose of disinterest. “What you insinuate is preposterous!” she exclaimed. “Lynton would never believe you.”
“Wouldn’t he? You must know he doesn’t like you. I fear you may have given him a disgust of you, trying out your wiles on him. With a bit more prodding he might decide it best for the family honor for you to leave London during your mourning period. I believe he mentioned Highbeck—’tis a fine manor near Ulls-water in Cumbria, the Lynton ancestral home, though none of them have lived there in years. Such a lovely view of the fells! Rob always said he thought it a shame the place stood empty.”
“C-Cumbria?” Sapphira repeated with horror.
“Or perhaps I need say nothing to Rob. Perhaps I shall only mention what I heard to Lizzie and let things take their course. ’Tis no controlling servants’ gossip, you know—’twould be all over town in a trice.”
Though Sapphira struggled to maintain her facade of unconcern, she began nervously twirling one golden curl around her finger. “No one listens to the chatter of underlings,” she declared after a moment.
Allegra laughed. “No one but the entire ton! You should know better than most how much society delights in passing along deliciously scandalous news. Girls jealous of your beauty, maidens whose suitors you’ve lured away, men you’ve snubbed or slighted—do you truly think such as these would not rejoice to spread the word of your misdoings? Of course, you might be able to wait out the scandal and emerge with your prestige intact…but are you willing to gamble your place in society on that?”
All pretense of indifference gone now, Sapphira gave a little gasp of dismay. Allegra knew that for Sapphira, the possibility of no longer being one of the reigning Diamonds of the ton was far more frightening than the prospect of a chilly spring exile to Cumbria.
Taking advantage of Sapphira’s momentary speechlessness, Allegra leaned toward her aunt, her face set in the most forbidding expression she could summon. “I have stood as much as I intend to stand, madam. Toy with me further and I promise, you will regret it.”
After making Sapphira a deep curtsey, Allegra walked out. As the door closed, she caught one last glimpse of Lady Lynton, her lips half-open in a reply she had not been able to formulate, a troubled frown on her brow.
Allegra kept silent until she reached the sanctuary of her room where, the door firmly closed, she gave a whoop of glee. Whether or not Sapphira remained as cowed as she appeared at this moment, still it felt wonderful to stand nose to nose with the spoiled beauty and finally give her back for all the slights and abuses of the last six months.
If the cautionary effect of this little interchange abated, Allegra would just have to think of something else. But she felt sure she had just won herself some respite.
She recalled Tavener’s comment and chuckled. Would he consider her stratagem sufficiently diabolical?
Laughing again, she clapped her hands together, the future suddenly seeming gloriously bright. She had Sapphira’s malevolence stymied and the pleasing prospect of a long drive with Tavener during which she could relax and enjoy his company, Mrs. Randall’s presence a guarantee she’d not succumb to temptation.
And taking a long private drive with the man Lynton most wanted her to avoid ought to propel Rob to action…if ever he meant to act, she thought, her euphoria dimming.
Impatiently she thrust away that dispiriting reflection. With the trip to Brookwillow imminent, she refused to let anything spoil her anticipation.
EARLY ON THE MORNING of the appointed day, Allegra, Mrs. Randall and Lord Tavener set off in a barouche for his country estate. Allegra figured he must have hired the carriage, which was well-appointed and far larger than a single gentleman would keep for his own use. He impressed her too by providing foot warmers, lap robes and mugs of spiced wine to ward off the morning chill as well as light refreshments to sustain them until they reached the inn where they would lunch before arriving at Brookwillow.
Once the vehicle emerged from the tangle of London streets and gained the countryside, Mrs. Randall sat up excitedly, her face pressed to the window glass. After an hour spent exclaiming over the beauty of budding trees, emerging bulbs and early wildflowers, she accepted a mug of wine from Lord Tavener. When she had finished that, the soporific effect of the rocking coach overcame her and she nodded off.
Allegra appreciated as much as her chaperone the unblemished beauty of the countryside passing beside them. With her lungs filled with the sweet scent of fresh country air, she too might have grown sleepy—but for the presence of Lord Tavener. Folding his tall frame onto a narrow carriage seat left his knees nearly touching hers, a fact that kept all her senses on edge.
Sternly forbidding herself to imagine sitting beside rather than opposite him, his arm, now draped casually along the back of the squabs, at her elbow to steady her against the bumps in the road, she once again gave thanks for the restraining presence of the dozing Mrs. Randall.
Smiling, Allegra looked from that lady’s somnolent form to Lord Tavener—and caught him staring at her.
Her breasts tingled at the intensity of the gaze he had fixed on them. Her cheeks flushing as well, she said softly, “You are backsliding, sir.”
His lazy gaze leapt t
o her face. “Backsliding?”
Allegra shook a finger at him. “You were staring at my…person again.”
“How could you know? You’ve been gazing out the window.”
“I just saw you,” she pointed out.
He sighed and a little sparkle glittered in his eyes, making him seem like a schoolboy caught out in some mischief. “Very well, but you must not be too severe with me. ’Tis your loveliness distracting me again, else I should have glanced away before you noticed. Besides, ’tis unreasonable to expect me to always resist the pleasure of looking at you. I’m but a man, after all.”
“And therefore highly susceptible to temptation?”
He grinned. “Aren’t we all, upon occasion?”
He must be referring to her response to him in the garden, she thought, her blush deepening. Restraining herself from remembering what his unwavering gaze teased her to recall, she wrapped her arms around her sensitized torso and said primly, “We must all resist temptation if we are to achieve our goals. If you wish to woo and win your heiress, you must learn more quickly. Since it appears such a daunting task, are you sure you want to attempt it?”
He shrugged. “I’ve no other recourse, if I am to salvage my estate.”
“Is Brookwillow your family home?”
“I didn’t grow up there, if that is what you mean. I was but a lad of five summers when my parents died, so spent most of my youth at school.” The light in his eyes faded. “I’ve paid visits over the years, of course, but already by the time I left Oxford, the manor was too decrepit to inhabit. Nor does the land produce enough income to fund the necessary repairs.”
His voice for once void of its usual teasing overtones, she caught an echo of despair in his reply. He truly cares about Brookwillow, she realized, a deep sympathy welling up within her. She wondered if Tavener realized how clearly his tone revealed the depth of his frustration at the deterioration of his estate.
“How is the manor situated?” she asked, aching for him and wanting to steer his mind to happier thoughts.
To her satisfaction, his expression brightened. “Brookwillow stands on a hill on the Hampshire downs,” he replied, and from his faraway expression, she knew he must be picturing it in his mind. “A small river, hardly more than the brook for which it is named, runs at its feet and meanders through the surrounding farmland. The current building was erected on the ruins of a castle donjon, but it’s Elizabethan, mostly.”
“It sounds lovely.”
He turned to her, the light in his eyes dimming again. “It used to be. I suppose it could be again, given an influx of enough cash and a knowledgeable manager.”
“You know nothing of farming?”
His laughter had bitter overtones. “My guardian could not be bothered to teach me anything useful. But he paid my fees at Eton and Oxford, for which I must be grateful.”
“In addition to music, Papa taught me Latin, mathematics and the classics. Mama drilled me in French, history and literature, so I’m more knowledgeable than most females, I suppose, but how I should have loved to go to Oxford! It seems so unfair that university learning is limited to gentlemen.”
“’Tis much too dangerous for ladies to be educated,” he responded. “You are already so much cleverer than men, you would soon take over the world.” His eyes roamed her face to settle on her lips. “You’ve nearly conquered this bit of it already,” he said softly.
Did he infer she’d conquered him? At the sudden heat in his powerful gaze, Allegra’s lips burned and the breath caught in her throat.
“You will be…compassionate to the vanquished, I hope?” he whispered, leaning toward her.
She couldn’t help it. Some irresistible impulse pulled her toward him, made her eyes flutter shut at the warmth of his breath on her cheeks. A sense of urgency churned in her belly as she anticipated his touch, his taste…
The carriage hit a rut that bounced them both into the air. He steadied her back to her seat as Mrs. Randall woke with a start.
“Dear me, I must have dozed off!” she exclaimed. “Are we near the inn yet?”
Though Allegra felt her cheeks flame hotter, Lord Tavener appeared perfectly composed. “We’re almost there, ma’am,” he said, smoothly picking up the conversation as if he hadn’t just almost kissed her. “I trust you are rested and ready for luncheon. I promise the fare at The Brindled Mare will not disappoint you.”
While he continued to talk to her chaperone with practiced ease, Allegra looked on, both frustrated and grateful at the fortuitous interruption of their little interlude. How could he look so cool and detached while, unsettled and still hungry for his touch, she burned?
Because, she answered herself acidly, despite the glimpse she’d had of the more complex man within, at heart he was still a rake. Only a man who, as he’d said, couldn’t be blamed for taking advantage of the moment and a girl who was all too obviously susceptible to his charm.
Berating herself for allowing the fact of Mrs. Randall’s presence to lull her into letting down her guard, Allegra vowed to conduct herself for the rest of this journey with the utmost propriety.
As if the rake’s effect on her, she thought with more than a little disgruntlement, was as superficial and fleeting as hers seemed to be on him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
AS THEY SAT AT A TABLE in the inn an hour later, Will’s palms remained sweaty and his heart still thudded in his chest. He only hoped he’d forced down enough ham and ale to give credence to the claim he’d made to Mrs. Randall about the superiority of the Brindled Mare’s luncheon.
What had he been thinking, to have subjected himself to the torture of riding for hours in a closed carriage with Allegra? He should have known that he’d not be able to content himself forever just with the pleasure of gazing at her, great as that pleasure was. Not when her lushly rounded body sat but a hand’s reach away, her expressive dark eyes luring him closer as she captivated him with her smile, her lavender scent, her witty rejoinders.
It made his hands perspire anew to recall how close he’d come to wrapping her in his arms and kissing her until she begged for breath while her chaperone dozed not two feet away. Had he no control at all?
A review of how she’d looked in the carriage, the ebony curls peeking out beneath her bonnet, the satin skin of her countenance glowing from the crisp fresh air, those berry-red lips, was enough for his body to tighten again.
No, he possessed no control at all where Allegra was concerned.
Interestingly enough, it appeared she was also susceptible to him. Had that fortuitous bump in the road not prevented him from kissing her, he knew she would not have repulsed him, just as she had not slapped him in the garden at Lynton House.
He tried to damp down the thrill of purely masculine satisfaction at that realization and force himself instead to examine why, if the connection between them was so strong, she seemed so set on marrying Rob Lynton.
Of course, to ask that was to answer. For a lady of dubious connections who needed a secure position in the world, Lord Lynton had much more to offer than an impoverished baron with a crumbling estate. Allegra’s senses might have other ideas, but her practical mind was set on what even he must admit was a more prudent and advantageous match.
Which probably explained why she’d grown so quiet since that almost-kiss in the carriage. Fortunately Mrs. Randall, full of excited chatter about her return to the country and the prospect of visiting her dear friend, hadn’t seemed to notice the relative dearth of conversation produced by her two luncheon companions.
For another moment, Will let his gaze rest on Allegra’s downturned face, the thick dark lashes painting two semicircles of shadow over her cheeks. A dull ache throbbed in his chest.
Assuming the man wasn’t cloth-headed enough not to eventually recognize the treasure within his reach, would Lynton cherish that fiery passion just waiting to be awakened or Allegra’s fiercely inquiring mind? Somehow, Will didn’t think so—any more than he e
xpected to thrill at possessing the well-dowered pinnacle of maidenly deportment Lucilla wanted him to wed.
Since the choice was out of his hands, he ought to concentrate on behaving as prudently as Miss Antinori. Mrs. Randall had finished her repast, her charge had pushed the food back and forth on her plate a sufficient number of times and heaven knows, he couldn’t choke down another bite. Best to get them back on the road to his estate, the sooner to expose to his guests the full extent of his unsuitability, so that he might put an end to futile daydreams and painful imaginings.
And though the hiring of the carriage to bring them here today had severely diminished his reserve of coins, he vowed he would rent a horse to ride on the return journey even if it meant he must dine on whatever offerings were available at various gaming hells every night for a month.
WILL FOUND HIS NERVES winding tighter with every mile they drew closer to Brookwillow. On the other hand, each turn along the now-familiar road brought into view new vistas into woods he’d explored and streams he’d fished on his infrequent but prized holidays here, evoking a flow of fond memories. Odd, to have so sharp a sense of belonging in a place in which he’d spent comparatively little time. Perhaps it was the warm welcome and straightforward acceptance the Phillipses had always accorded him that made the manor and its land so dear to him.
But drawing nearer also speeded him toward the moment he’d have to gird himself for the dismayed and perhaps disgusted reaction of the ladies, once they viewed the true extent of Brookwillow’s decrepitude.
The carriage turned off the main road and crossed a narrow bridge over the lazy-flowing river. “The gatehouse is just ahead,” he informed his companions, his pulse quickening with anticipation and dread.
“Is this the brook for which the estate was named?” Allegra asked. “’Tis lovely, and the woods also. Will we be able to see the manor house from the drive?”
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