Heartless Lord Harry

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Heartless Lord Harry Page 6

by Marjorie Farrell

“I found Lord Clitheroe most likable: kind and thoughtful. He was quite taken with Lynette.”

  “And what of Sidmouth?”

  “He was also taken with Lynette, Aunt Kate. He seems much more experienced with the ladies, judging by the ease of his address and his rather practiced charm.” Kate’s tone clearly indicated that she didn’t quite approve of such expertise.

  “He always was a charmer,” agreed her aunt. “Took after his father, the late marquess. And he also inherited his mother’s Welsh intensity—a powerful combination. I knew his parents, you know. She was a few years younger than I, but the marquess was one of my own admirers my first Season. Of course, once Maria was out, he had eyes for no one else. Which, given the fact he had his eye on every pretty woman, from young miss to widow…! But he was never quite as shameless in his behavior as Harry was this past Little Season. He has become something more than charming. He is a bit more of a rake, in fact, than his father ever was—quite careless of the feelings of susceptible young women. What was Lynette’s reaction to him? I would not want to see her hurt.”

  “You know Lynnie, Aunt Kate. She is oblivious to all the attention she draws. I had hoped she would respond to Lord Clitheroe. I think he is just the sort of man she needs: steady and attentive and trustworthy.”

  “Oh, yes, the Clitheroes have always been known for their solidity and devotion to duty. There is a bishop in the family, you know. I wonder what they would think of a connection with the Richmonds or Tremaynes?”

  “Now, what aspersions are you casting on our families, Aunt Kate?” said a deep voice from the door.

  “Gareth!” Kate jumped up and hurled herself into her brother’s arms. “Oh, it is so good to see you.”

  Gareth smiled down at his favorite sister. “It is delightful that you are here. I am glad Father suggested it.”

  “Father suggested this!”

  “Yes, dear little sister. It was Father’s idea that Arden sponsor your come-out. He is not that lost to the realities of the everyday world, you know.”

  “But we would have suggested it ourselves, had he not done so,” said a voice behind Gareth. “Welcome to London, Kate.”

  Kate stepped back from her brother and smiled at her sister-in-law, who had just stepped in behind him. Arden looked stunning in a dark blue walking dress that matched her eyes and complimented her black hair and fair complexion. Gareth reached back and, putting his arm around his wife, pulled her forward. “We are both looking forward to seeing you and Lynette taking the Town by storm.”

  “Well, save tha breath to cool tha porridge,” said Kate in broad Yorkshire. “Lynnie will likely create a sensation, but we are hardly material to become reigning toasts.”

  Gareth looked at his sister with mock despair. “So little faith in your brother’s influence?”

  “No, rather a realistic assessment of the Richmond family.”

  Gareth laughed, as they all did, but with all his appreciation of Kate’s humorous summary of their family’s reputation, he was a bit worried about her. She was his favorite sister, the one he felt closest to. Oh, he loved Lynnie, who could not? But he and Kate were the practical ones, the objective Richmonds, the two who took charge. And his absence these past few years, both in the military and now at Thorne, meant that Kate had had to take on even more responsibility. He was determined to see that her Season was a success and that she was not overshadowed by her beautiful older sister.

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  For the next two weeks Arden, Kate, and Lynette spent much of their time shopping. At first Kate protested the extravagant sums Arden seemed determined to spend, but she was assured that Gareth could well afford it and that he wanted to spare no expense. Kate finally let herself begin to enjoy it. She had very little luxury in her life and few clothes that weren’t practical. To be offered such a choice of color and fabric overwhelmed her at first, but soon she became quite good at determining what flattered her and what complimented Lynette’s beauty.

  Lynette offered no protests, but neither did she involve herself. She usually brought a book with her to keep occupied while Kate was being fitted. When it was her turn, she stood patiently and obeyed the dressmaker’s commands to lift her arm or make a quarter turn. Occasionally a particularly beautiful silk caught her attention, but for the most part, she might well have still been holding her book in front of her nose.

  “Has Lynette always been like this?” Arden asked her husband after one particularly frustrating day.

  “Like what?” asked Gareth.

  “She so often seems like she is living in another world—one where perfectly fitting clothes magically appear in one’s wardrobe. Does she really wish for this Season, Gareth?”

  “Lynette has always been, well…Lynette. She is more like Father than Kate or I,” Gareth admitted.

  “But your father, as distracted as he can become by his work, seems more anchored in the real world. When he is with your mother, for instance, he is well aware of his surroundings. Lynette isn’t just absentminded, or always with her head in a book. Well, she is always with a head in her book! But it goes beyond that. It is as though all her energy is locked away inside.”

  “I hadn’t really thought of it that way before,” admitted Gareth. “I’ve always loved and accepted Lynette for who she is—an unusually beautiful, intelligent, but absent-minded young woman. Maybe we have all taken that too much for granted.”

  “She is gloriously beautiful, Gareth. So breathtaking that one cannot even be envious. One feels it is a privilege to see her, like looking at a painting come to life. But that is just it. She hides herself so well behind that beauty.”

  “She won’t be able to do that as easily in London as in Sedbusk. In fact, this Season may be just what she needs to take her out of herself.”

  * * * *

  Lady Thorne was not the only one who was concerned about Lynette. The dowager marchioness, who had visited Richmond House regularly, had known, of course, how different the two girls were, but not until they arrived did she feel that she appreciated the extent of the difference. And she worried about them both.

  Kate was of such a practical nature and so used to taking charge, that her aunt wondered if she ever indulged herself in the romantic daydreams the way young ladies did. She seemed to be enjoying herself and excited about her new clothes and excursions to the historic sights of London. But she didn’t seem to have much hope of forming an attachment or even making a suitable, practical match. She seemed perfectly willing to look upon the Season as an enjoyable interlude and then return to her parents’ home.

  And Lynette was even more worrisome. She was certainly a daydreamer, but not, the dowager was convinced, of handsome young men. No, she was entirely concentrated upon her father’s book and her research for it. And the only time she became animated was when her aunt questioned her about their progress.

  The subject matter of their research, investigating stone and chalk carvings and traditional celebrations to determine their connection to fertility rituals, was hardly one a gently born young lady should be conversant with. It was one thing for the marchioness to have made her charitable activity distributing hygienic information to women of the streets. She was a married woman, now widowed, of a certain age. It was quite another for an innocent young woman like Lynette to go on about the number of church carvings of women displaying their private parts and what that might say about the influence of the early religions upon Christianity! Lynette discussed her research in such a detached and scholarly manner that there was no difference in her tone when she talked about the foliated heads of the Green Man carvings and those of the female exhibitionists!

  Her familiarity with such subject matter a stranger might have attributed to her experience in romantic matters. The dowager knew that nothing could be further from the truth. Lynette’s very matter-of-factness and her ignorance of the incongruity of such interest being expressed by such a beautiful young lady, told her aunt t
hat her niece was emotionally and romantically quite ignorant.

  And that was what worried her. Not that a young woman should expertly discuss fertility rituals, but that her niece had no interest in forming an everyday relationship with a young man. Some part of Lynette seemed asleep and inaccessible, and her aunt wondered whether a prince’s kiss could wake her up.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  After his sisters had completed their new wardrobes, Gareth decided it was time for them to be seen by Society. One late afternoon he arranged for the landau to be brought round and they set out for the park. It had been a warm, sunny day, and both young women were dressed in white muslin gowns trimmed in different colors, Kate’s in Nile green and Lynette’s with blue ribbons that matched her eyes. As they entered the park, the sun was low in the sky, and Gareth noticed how the late afternoon light lit the red highlights in Kate’s hair and made Lynette’s look like spun silver. He smiled to himself, thinking that it shouldn’t take but a few minutes for the young men to notice them and he was right. Mere acquaintances were bowing and lifting their hats and would have surrounded the carriage had Gareth allowed it. He proceeded on, however, wanting only to pique an interest in his sisters. But when Lords Clitheroe and Sidmouth approached on horseback, there was no choice. He had to stop and let them greet their former hostesses.

  James dismounted and immediately came up to Lynette, who smiled and calmly stated that she was happy to see him again. It was hardly an effusive greeting, but James didn’t care. He was too bemused by Lynette’s beauty to notice anything lacking.

  Lord Sidmouth had bowed to the ladies, but was busy renewing his acquaintance with Gareth.

  “I did not immediately connect Captain Richmond with the Marquess of Thorne. It was quite a surprise to me,” he said.

  “My uncle had no relations on his side and so he arranged for me to be his legal heir. But it was not a fact generally known, and never spoken of even in the family very much. I left Portugal to be with him when he was dying and to support my aunt.”

  “You were well out of it,” said Harry.

  “I hear Badajoz was a bloodbath.”

  “Yes.”

  The two men looked at one another, and Kate, who was on that side of the carriage and had been listening in on their conversation, thought that a world of experience foreign to her had been conveyed in that terse interchange.

  “I see you are looking fully recovered, Lord Sidmouth,” she observed, breaking the silence.

  He smiled at her, then turned to Gareth and said: “James and I owe your family our lives.”

  “You owe Gabriel and Benjamin your lives. We only took you in after your rescue,” Kate answered lightly.

  ‘The Richmond hospitality will not easily be forgotten. But excuse me. I must say hello to Miss Richmond.” Harry handed his reins to Gareth, who took them without thinking, and then looked down at his hands as if to say, now how did he manage that? Meanwhile, Lord Sidmouth crossed in front of the carriage and made his way to Lynette’s side, where he flashed his most charming smile and gave her an extravagant compliment.

  Gareth looked quizzically at Kate and they both grinned. “You don’t mind, Kate?” he asked in a low voice. “I am afraid that initially at least, Lynette will draw them like bees to flowers.”

  “I have had years to get used to it, Gareth.”

  “But London is different from Yorkshire, my dear.”

  “Ah, but Lynette is the same, Gareth.”

  “Well, that is true.” And they both smiled at each other again, remembering all the young men who initially flocked to their sister at local assemblies, then fell away gradually as the compliments and flirting seemed to fall on deaf ears. Quite often Lynette, who had been the center of attention at the beginning of an evening, by the end would be holding up the wall. And Kate, who had been overshadowed at first, would have danced almost every dance.

  James, who had been edged out by Harry, came around to pay his compliments to Kate. While the three of them chatted amiably, Kate kept her eye on Lord Sidmouth and her sister. He was obviously a practiced charmer, and he seemed to be eliciting a little more of a response from Lynette than most young men did. Not that she was simpering or blushing, but she was conversing with more animation than usual about the weather, the sights and scenes of London, and the upcoming Peverell ball.

  Before Lord Sidmouth’s attention could become too marked, Gareth announced that it was time to move on. The men remounted, and all agreed they were looking forward to their meeting at the Peverells’.

  * * * *

  As they rode away, James realized he was furious with Harry. Since this had never happened before, he hardly knew what to say. Surely Harry had noticed his interest in Miss Richmond? Why, then, did he seem intent on making her his next flirt? He would be damned if he would allow Harry to gain her affection and then toss it away as he had with the others in the fall. Despite her calm exterior and seeming untouchability, James sensed that Miss Richmond was vulnerable. And how could she not eventually respond to Harry’s expert charm?

  Harry had of course noticed James’s infatuation. It would have been hard to miss it. But he thought it was only that, an infatuation with Lynette’s striking appearance. She was not at all the sort for his staid friend. James needed someone more forceful, like her sister Kate. His friend might be a little piqued by Harry’s conquest, and he had never before done anything to hurt him. But some imp of perversity seemed to have a hold on him. He was as driven as he had been in the fall when he first returned to Town. Some sort of hard energy had taken him over, an energy that could not or would not let up. And he had to let himself flow with it, regardless of friendship or the feelings of vulnerable young women. If he didn’t, he knew he would be back in Hell.

  * * *

  Chapter 15

  On the evening of the ball, Arden had decided that an informal, intimate family supper would be preferable to accepting one of their many invitations to dine out. That way they would arrive later in the evening, missing the inevitable crush, and she hoped, relaxed by the informality.

  Accordingly they arrived at the Peverells’ a good half hour after most of the guests. Lady Peverell greeted them warmly, but waved them into the ballroom where Arden was greatly relieved to see her Aunt Ellen, her cousin Celia, and Celia’s husband, Lord Heronwood.

  “Come, let me introduce you to my family,” she said and led them all over.

  Both her aunt and cousin were delighted to make the Richmonds’ acquaintance.

  “We just arrived in Town yesterday,” explained Arden’s aunt. “I am so sorry we could not have been here to welcome you, but Celia is a most unfashionable and indulgent mother and hated to drag her son away from the country where he enjoys both his parents’ constant attention.”

  “Have you been enjoying London, Kate?” Heronwood asked.

  Kate smiled and chatted away about their visits to the Tower and Astley’s, all the while thinking that she must be very wicked, but the only thing she could think of as they talked was the amazing aptness of Heronwood’s name. Gareth had of course told her how Arden had earned her title of “Insufferable,” and she had had great sympathy for the victims of her wit. But she had to admit to herself that the temptation in this case would have been great, for Lord Heronwood, with his height, long nose, and weak chin, resembled nothing so much as a marsh bird.

  The ballroom was ablaze with candles, and Lynette was standing by a pillar set with a large candelabra. When the present country dance ended and the couples began to leave the floor, the dancers were struck by the vision of a young woman in ivory silk, her hair scintillating in the candlelight. Within moments a crowd had formed around the Richmonds, with young men begging for introductions.

  James, who had been making his way slowly toward the family, watched with disappointment as he saw the triumphant young Hornden lead Miss Richmond off for the next country dance. Kate had received a rather backhanded invitation from one of
the disappointed pursuers, and the rest of the family was keeping Arden’s aunt, Mrs. Denbigh, company. When James joined them, he gallantly asked Mrs. Denbigh for her hand in the next dance and received warm smiles from her and her daughter.

  When the next dance turned out to be a waltz, he was, therefore, already committed and had to watch Harry, who had appeared out of nowhere, capture Miss Richmond and lead her back to the dance floor.

  * * * *

  Harry had planned his strategy carefully. He had no desire for a country dance. He wanted to hold Miss Richmond a little bit closer for much longer. As they moved out onto the dance floor, he complimented Lynette on her dress, a compliment she accepted calmly and matter-of-factly, as usual. She was a graceful dancer, he discovered, and they were a well-matched couple. Arden remarked to Gareth as she watched them glide by, that Lynette resembled a faerie queen and Lord Sidmouth one of her knights. “Perhaps because he is part Welsh,” said Gareth. “He does have a fey air about him.”

  Harry himself was both appreciating Lynette’s otherworldly beauty and wondering if he could ever pierce her reserve, which was as great as if she had been a member of the royal family. She answered his questions about her time in London; she smiled automatically at one of his jokes.

  She let him pull her in a bit closer, but there was no flush of embarrassment as he squeezed her waist and pulled her hand in to rest on his shoulder for a moment. Any other young woman would have been blushing and stammering with nerves, or letting herself brush up against him. Not Miss Richmond. It was as though she were immune to his formidable charm, and that only made him want her the more.

  When the waltz ended, Harry asked if he could bring her something from the refreshment table. Her face opened up for a moment with gratitude. “Thank you, my lord. It is hot in here and I am quite thirsty.”

  James, however, was ahead of him. James, who had been watching them as he whirled Mrs. Denbigh around the dance floor, who had felt his temperature rise at the sight of Harry pulling Lynette in close, was determined not to leave them alone. And so he had led Mrs. Denbigh over to where Lynette waited and was chatting with both of them when Harry returned with his two glasses of punch.

 

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