Lynette smiled her gratitude, and Harry offered his glass to Arden’s aunt.
“Harry, be a good fellow and get me a glass when you go back for your own,” asked James, who was amazed at his own temerity. “I don’t want to leave the ladies alone.”
“Of course, James,” replied Harry, amused at his friend’s obvious tactics, and went off again. He was no more than amused, for he knew that ultimately James didn’t stand a chance.
When he returned, Lord and Lady Heronwood had joined the group, and Harry let the conversation rise and fall around him as he stood quietly drinking in Miss Richmond’s beauty. The same associations with the old ballads came to his mind as they had to Arden’s. Would it be as dangerous to court Miss Richmond, wondered Harry, as it was for Thomas the Rhymer and Tarn Lin to be lovers of the faerie queen? And what was it about Miss Richmond, aside from her beauty, that made her so irresistible, that made her, for the time being at least, the only woman who could hold his attention?
He invited Lady Heronwood to dance, and then Lady Thorne, but he had no desire to lead any other young lady out onto the floor. All his energy was concentrated on one exquisitely beautiful young woman.
* * *
Chapter 16
Kate, to her great relief, had not been lacking in dance partners. No crowd of eager young men ebbed and flowed around her as around her sister, but her dance card was almost full. No one stood out for her, but on the other hand, no one who asked her to dance was twenty years older and looking for a mother for his children, which in itself was an improvement over the Yorkshire assemblies! A few of the young men made it obvious by their questions that they had only asked her to dance to get closer to her sister. But most seemed genuinely interested in her, and one or two signed themselves for a second dance.
Lord Clitheroe was one of her more enjoyable partners. Although she had watched his attempts to converse with Lynette and his one dance with her, he did not let his preoccupation with one sister make him impolite to the other. He was genuinely interested in Kate’s reactions to the ball, and she felt quite at ease with him as well as sympathetic. It annoyed her to see how Lord Sidmouth pursued her sister, for he must know of his best friend’s interest. She was determined to see if she could in any way help Lord Clitheroe, and when their dance ended, she smiled brightly up at him and asked him to walk her over to where Lynette and Harry were chatting with Gareth and Arden.
When the next waltz was struck, Kate quickly flashed her dance card at the marquess and said brightly: “I believe this dance is ours, Lord Sidmouth?” As a matter of fact, he had not signed for it at all, but as a gentleman, could hardly deny her, and they moved off, leaving James with Lynette.
“This is one of my very few dances with my wife. Will you partner Lynette, Lord Clitheroe?” Gareth requested.
James flushed, and Lynette, noticing his embarrassment, reassured him.
“You do not need to, my lord. I am quite content to watch.”
“No, no. I would be delighted to lead you out, Miss Richmond.”
James might have been less adept with light conversation and banter than Harry, but he was as good a dancer, and once they had been on the floor for a few measures, he felt more sure of himself. His arm tightened around Lynette’s waist, and they swept gracefully around the dance floor.
“There is something very solidly human about our faerie queen’s present partner,” commented Arden to her husband as they waltzed by.
“Most certainly Clitheroe is no elfin knight.”
“I think your sister needs someone more earth-bound, Gareth. A queen, faerie or otherwise, can lead a very lonely life.”
“Do you think Lynnie is lonely, Arden? She always seems quite content within herself.”
“There is something in Lynette that reminds me of myself.”
“No two women could be more different,” protested Gareth.
“In many ways, yes. But she is as remote from human warmth in her own way as I was in mine. She may not need a Captain Rudesby, as I did, to bring her down to earth, but I think Lord Clitheroe might do very well for her.”
Gareth smiled at his wife. “I am glad your tongue has a few barbs left, My Lady Thorne, or else I would wonder whom I married.” Gareth pulled his wife closer to him and murmured in her ear that he was very eager to see this evening end, before he released her back into a more respectable position.
* * * *
Harry had been more amused than annoyed at Kate’s manipulation. He was not worried about losing a dance to James for he knew, in the end, he was much more likely to win the lady. Or at least her heart. He had no real desire for her hand, he reminded himself.
He looked down at Kate and smiled. “I do not believe I recall signing your dance card, Miss Kate.”
Kate decided to abandon all pretense, now that she had achieved her goal. “You didn’t,” she snapped. “But Lord Clitheroe needed some help, and I decided to give it to him. He is your best friend. Aren’t you ashamed to be in competition with him?”
“All’s fair in love and war, Miss Kate,” responded Harry lightly, refusing to be drawn into a quarrel.
“If all you can do is justify your behavior with clichés, then you are even more hopeless than I thought.”
Harry opened his mouth to say something in his own defense and then closed it again, and his arm convulsively tightened around Kate’s fingers, squeezing them painfully. All of a sudden he could hear his words given back to him in cockney accents, in the town of Badajoz. “All’s fair hin love and war, Captin,” the solider had said with a wink and knowing smile, as if Harry would understand and overlook his actions.
Kate’s exclamation of pain brought his mind back to the dance floor. When he realized what he had done, he loosened his grip and apologized. “I beg your pardon, Miss Kate. I was…somewhere else for the moment.”
Kate looked up, wondering if this incident was similar to what happened on their picnic, but the marquess’s eyes told her nothing. He said nothing for the rest of their dance, but held her so lightly they were barely connected. When the dance ended he led her across the dance floor to Gareth and Arden. Just before they reached them, he turned to her and said, “James is only infatuated with your sister, Miss Kate. It will do him no real harm to be cut out.”
He had hoped this explanation would soften her antagonism toward him and was taken aback when she rounded on him and said softly but with suppressed anger, “And are you God, Lord Sidmouth, to know the exact state of your friend’s heart? But at least he has one to be injured. You, I fear, do not, and nothing to give my sister but empty charm. Thank you for the dance,” she concluded, biting the words out.
Harry bowed to her back as she walked away from him. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps he had no heart. But if having one meant believing, as he used to, in love and honor and the ultimate goodness of human beings, then after what he had seen at Badajoz, he no longer wanted one.
* * *
Chapter 17
Over the next few weeks the pattern that had been set at the Peverell ball continued. Both James and Harry paid their attentions to Lynette. Their rivalry remained unacknowledged, however, for James was not about to lose any dignity by revealing the state of his heart, and Harry still did not see his friend as a serious threat.
Kate had gathered a small circle of admirers. She showed no preferences for any of them, but bestowed her favors equally and found herself enjoying her Season more than she would have expected. Lynette so far had no occasion to hold forth at length on her scholarly interests, and, therefore, no opportunity to offend anyone’s sensibilities. She accepted Clitheroe’s and Sidmouth’s invitations equally, having told Kate early on that since she had no particular interest in either, she had no intention of favoring one over the other and ruining an old friendship. Kate suspected that despite her sister’s care, the friendship had been changed forever.
* * * *
She was right. James and Harry had known each other since E
ton where James had taken on a protective role almost immediately. James had been taller and stronger and had been at school a year when Harry arrived in the middle of a term. As a new boy, he was, of course, a target, and one day James had rescued him from a group of older boys who were teasing him about being Welsh. Harry had taken them all on and, when James arrived on the scene, was being held down on the ground by one of them and pummeled by the others. James waded right in, scattering the tormentors, although not before taking a few blows himself. Their “war wounds,” a black eye and bloody nose apiece, brought them together. The differences in temperament worked for their friendship, rather than against it, for James’s seriousness and slow steady way of working complemented Harry’s quicksilver personality. They were inseparable from then on, visiting each other’s homes during the holidays and continuing on to Oxford together.
All through the years James had been the steadying influence. Although there were times when he felt dull compared to his friend, for the most part he knew that he was also, in some ways, stronger than Harry. When they first came down from college, he guided Harry away from the wilder set of young men and kept him from excesses in drinking and gambling. At the same time, he enjoyed Harry’s more “conservative” friends, for their energy and humor kept him from becoming too serious.
Although there was only six months’ difference between them, James had always felt like a protective older brother, and never more so than when Harry went off to war and returned seriously wounded. But that had all changed. The war had affected Harry not just in the obvious physical ways, although James could not quite put his finger on how. James had begun to feel more protective of the young ladies Harry was setting out to charm than of his friend himself. And none had raised his protective instincts more than Miss Lynette Richmond.
At first he had been drawn only to her beauty. But the more time he spent with her, the more he sensed a vulnerability under her absentminded air and the more he wanted to get to know the real Miss Richmond. And while he was not at all sure she would consider him as a suitor, he was absolutely certain that Harry could never make her happy. Harry was playing the same game he had in the fall, although more intently and exclusively, but James knew his heart was not involved. And, if he were wrong, then this time Harry would just have to take care of himself.
* * * *
As the unspoken rivalry continued, Kate wondered whether Lynette had formed a preference. She never by a blush or stammer revealed any deeper feeling for either of them. One evening, after they had returned from a dinner dance, Kate decided to ask her if her response had at all changed.
She knocked gently at her sister’s door and whispered, “Are you still awake, Lynnie?”
“Come in, Kate.”
Kate slipped in and perched on the edge of the bed, watching her sister brush her hair out.
“However do you balance your attention to Lord Clitheroe and Lord Sidmouth, Lynnie? I was watching you tonight and wondering if you keep a running tally on the sticks of your fan!”
Her sister turned and looked at her inquiringly. “Don’t you think it important for me not to get in the way of a long and close relationship, Kate? I have been trying very hard to show no preference, as you know.”
“I am only teasing you,” Kate apologized. “It is just that it is hard to imagine that you have no real preference, however you may conceal it. Do you like one over the other?”
“I enjoy Lord Sidmouth’s sense of humor, and he is a good dancer. But I feel much more comfortable with Lord Clitheroe. I think he wishes to know the real me, whereas Lord Sidmouth is only in pursuit of my beauty. And he is still a bit frightening to me,” she added thoughtfully. “Oh, he has never been anything other than a gentleman,” she said as Kate began to sputter. “It is just that I can feel he has the potential to, whereas I know I am absolutely safe with Lord Clitheroe.”
“Have you ever wanted either of them to kiss you or hold you tighter during a waltz?” queried Kate. “Do you find either as attractive as they find you?”
“They are both good-looking men, are they not? But no, I have not wanted either of their kisses. I think perhaps that was left out of my makeup, Kate. I still have met no one who could convince me that my life would be better with him, than at home. And is there someone you wish to kiss?” she asked with a smile.
“No, not really.” Kate wondered why a fleeting picture of Lord Sidmouth bending down to touch his lips to hers went through her mind at that moment. Probably because they had been speaking of him and kisses in the same breath. “But I do wish to be kissed. And loved. Do you not feel envious when you see Arden and Gareth together?”
“I feel happy for them, and sometimes a little embarrassed when they touch in public. But not envious, no,” replied Lynette.
“I feel sad for you, Lynnie. Here you are, the most beautiful woman in London this Season, and all you are looking forward to is returning home to Yorkshire.”
“There is nothing to feel sad about, Kate. If I wanted something I couldn’t have, that would be different. But there is nothing that I want from a man. Perhaps one day there will be, but not now.”
Kate knew her sister was speaking the truth. And as close as they were, here was this one part of Lynette that she could not comprehend. It was not coldness, for Lynnie was an affectionate sister and daughter. But desire seemed to be missing from her makeup.
* * *
Chapter 18
Although Lady Elizabeth and her husband were not as active as their daughters, they had been out often enough to enjoy their successes and to worry a little about the combined attentions of Lord Sidmouth and Lord Clitheroe.
One morning, when the younger members of the family had left for an early ride, Mr. Richmond and the dowager marchioness lingered at the breakfast table, discussing the girls’ progress.
“Do you think either of them will receive an offer before the Season is over?” Mr. Richmond asked.
“The more pertinent question is whether either will accept one,” the dowager replied.
Mr. Richmond raised his eyebrows. “Is Sidmouth serious then, do you think? He has been most persistent with Lynnette. And whom would you predict making an offer to Kate?”
“I think that both Sir Horace Granby and Mr. George Whitley are quite taken with Kate, Edward. By the end of the Season, one of them may very well come up to scratch.”
“You are right. They have been hanging around. From all I know, either of them would be quite acceptable.”
“Acceptable, yes—suitable for Kate is another question entirely.”
“And Sidmouth?”
“Not at all suitable for Lynette,” replied the dowager. “And not likely to offer for her, I am afraid.”
“What! With all the attention he has been paying her, he damned well better not put her heart or her reputation in jeopardy!”
“Do you think her feelings are engaged then? I am not so sure, Edward.”
“It is hard to tell with Lynette,” he answered slowly. “She has been very friendly and receptive with Sidmouth.”
“And with Clitheroe,” the dowager pointed out. “And if either of the two would be likely to make an offer it would be Clitheroe.”
“I must confess that I like him better and would think Lynette in very good hands.”
The dowager smiled and nodded her agreement.
“I agree that Lord Clitheroe would be most appropriate for Lynette, and I have a great affection for him. But I must confess that I have a weakness for Lord Sidmouth,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“I believe Elizabeth does too,” said Edward.
“Ah yes, she knew his father who was as wild and charming a young man as his son. I remember the old marquess fondly myself.”
“You don’t sound very much like a Methodist to me, my dear Kate, confessing a weakness of a father-and-son pair of rogues,” teased Mr. Richmond.
She laughed. “Do you know what amuses me most in this situation, Edw
ard? The fact that if Clitheroe were to offer and Lynette to accept, the Otleys would be utterly overset by the family connection. His uncle is a bishop, you know, quite high up in the church hierarchy; a likely candidate for an archbishopric, as a matter-of-fact. And his mother! A rigid and controlling old trout. Can you imagine a family dinner with them? One polite inquiry about her scholarly interest and Lynette would scandalize the whole table.”
“I never knew the Otleys that well. Are they really that bad?”
“I have always felt sorry for James. He is not really weak, but very imbued with loyalty to his family and their values. He inherited earlier than Sidmouth, and his mother managed to overdevelop his sense of what is due the title and family.”
“Would he be the right sort of husband for Lynette then?”
“I think so, Edward. He is obviously not all Otley, or he would not have made such a good friend of Sidmouth. He would offset Lynette’s tendency to escape into the world of scholarship, and his love for her might enable him to challenge the rigidity of his family.”
“And what of Sidmouth? If he is not serious about Lynette, then what is he up to?”
“I do not think he is up to anything, Edward. His feverish pursuit of Lynette goes beyond wildness. The Harry Lifton who came home from the Peninsula is a different man than the one who left.”
“Yet he seems to have recovered from his injuries, Kate,” observed Mr. Richmond.
“I think his injuries went beyond the physical, Edward. And I also think,” she continued in a lighter tone, “that he has chosen the wrong sister!” surprising both Mr. Richmond and herself by her spontaneous pronouncement.
* * * *
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