Lavender Lies (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  He sat on the edge of the desk, observing her through thick lashes. "What do you think of Mannington, little patriot?"

  "It is magnificent," she admitted. "I get such a sense of history here, a feeling that little has changed within these walls in hundreds of years."

  "That is not quite realistic. While much of the furnishings are original, each generation has added its own touch to the house. My great-grandfather installed bathing closets with white marble baths near each bedchamber. My grandfather had water piped in from a pure, seemingly never-ending supply of underground springs." He cross his arms and smiled warmly. It was evident that he enjoyed talking about Mannington.

  "What was your contribution?"

  "Less than that of my grandfather. I enlarged the stables, and laid out a garden that stretches to the Shannon River."

  "Is the river a very long way?"

  "Yes, and therefore the gardens are quite extensive. I have had several persons get lost in the maze."

  "I will be anxious to see the gardens," she said politely.

  "Did Forsythe tell you that the rooms you occupy are called the Queen's Rooms?"

  "No, she did not mention it to me." She warmed to the subject. "Which English queen has slept there?"

  "Actually five queens, including Anne Boleyn and her daughter, Queen Elizabeth."

  Lavender became increasingly aware that Julian's eyes were moving over her with slow deliberation, and her face flamed with pleasure.

  "Are you unhappy, Lavender?" he asked.

  "No, not all the time."

  "But sometimes you are?"

  "Yes," she admitted.

  He looked past her to the door, and a smile of pleasure tugged at his lips. "It seems we will have to finish this conversation later. Our guests have arrived."

  Lavender watched the man and woman advance toward them. The woman was coldly beautiful. Her complexion was flawless, and her red hair was unpowdered. She wore a green gown that was in the height of fashion and brought out the color of her green eyes. She swept past Lavender, and attached herself to Julian, throwing her arms around him and kissing him on the mouth.

  Lavender slowly rose to her feet. Jealousy burned in her heart as Julian untangled the woman's arms from around his neck and laughed down at her. "I see you haven't changed, Georgia. It must be the country air that brings out the devil in you."

  She tossed her beautiful head. "You are the one who brings out the devil in me." Her cool eyes now ran assessingly over Lavender. "My God, Julian, if this is your new bride, you have married a baby, and one of those awful Americans at that."

  The marquess had been eyeing Lavender, and he stepped forward. "Not so, sister dear," he said to make up for his sister's rudeness. His eyes danced across Lavender's beautiful face, and he could well see why his friend had married this angel. "Julian has married a lovely goddess. Hurry up and present me to your little American."

  Julian moved forward and slipped his arm around Lavender's shoulders, not so much to appease her for Georgia's behavior, but to remind her to keep her own counsel and not to retaliate against Georgia. "Lavender, this is Georgia Waltham and her brother Sheldon. Sheldon here fancies himself as a gift to women, and he tries to be gifted to as many ladies as possible. Sheldon, my wife, Lavender."

  Lavender smiled at the brother. "I am so delighted that the two of you could join me and my husband tonight." Her smile was less sweet when she bestowed it on the sister. "Any friend of my husband's is always welcome."

  Julian knew Lavender well enough to realize he would have to stay close to her all-evening. He did not trust her to make the sacrifice of silence if another reference was made about her country.

  Julian glanced up to see that his grandmother had just arrived. She took in the people in the room and held out her hand to her grandson. "I am told dinner is served, so you may escort me in, Julian," she said in an authoritative voice.

  Julian offered one arm to Georgia and the other to his grandmother, while Georgia gazed into his eyes seductively. "You lead, and I will follow—anywhere."

  The dowager's laughter carried back to Lavender, as did her words. "You had better follow someone other than my grandson, Georgia. Since he is married, his leading days are at an end."

  Sheldon offered his arm to Lavender. "You must not mind my sister, Your Grace. She once fancied herself as the Duchess of Mannington, and, I hasten to add, without any encouragement from Julian."

  Lavender could see the evening yawning before her, when she would have to endure Georgia Waltham's shameful display of affection toward her husband. If Julian thought she would sit meekly by while this woman made mock of her, then he did not know her very well.

  Dinner went surprisingly well, due mostly to the dowager duchess's presence. Georgia sat on Julian's right, but she did curtail her actions since his grandmother was seated on his left. Lavender was seated at the other end of the table, and Sheldon was to her right. The conversation was of current London activities, mutual friends, and Georgia's frustration at not being able to purchase imported French fashions.

  Sheldon was most attentive to Lavender, and his eyes boldly assessed her. "I am sure you must miss your home, Your Grace. It must be very lonely for you at times."

  Lavender looked at him gratefully. "Yes, I do miss my home. You are the first person who has realized that, Lord Waltham."

  "What do you miss most about America?" he asked with interest.

  "1 long for my brother and my aunt. And of course I want to see Nicodemus, who has been with my family for years." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "And I miss the gentle autumn we have in Virginia."

  "I traveled to America once, and I found it to be extraordinarily beautiful. The vastness is somewhat overpowering, isn't it?"

  The dowager duchess watched her grandson glaring jealously at Sheldon, and she smiled to herself. It would not be too long before Julian would have to face some truths about his feelings for Lavender.

  After dinner, the dowager duchess begged her leave, with the excuse of being weary from her journey. Lavender wished she could also excuse herself, since she was not looking forward to an evening of watching Georgia fawn all over Julian. She had decided, with strong resolve, that no matter what Georgia did, she was not going to allow her jealousy to show. She would pretend complete indifference to him.

  When they retired to the Blue Salon, Julian was seated on one of the couches, and Georgia was sitting as close to him as she could possibly get without actually sitting in his lap. Lavender ignored the two of them, and moved around the room, examining a delicate Dresden figurine, stopping to stare at a portrait of a young girl that had obviously been painted by the hands of a master. Her hand trailed across a polished side table that she was sure must have been crafted several hundred years ago.

  She was not aware that Sheldon had come up beside her until he spoke. "I can see that you appreciate beautiful things. Mannington is filled with priceless treasures from many eras. Have you yet been shown the long gallery where all the family portraits are hung?”

  She smiled. "Not yet, but it seems that I do recall Julian having made mention of the gallery, and I am looking forward to seeing it."

  "Julian and I used to go there as boys and pretend that we were one of the knights who was charging off on some bold adventure." He chuckled. "Of course, as we grew older we abandoned our pretended adventures, but I have never outgrown my fascination for that gallery."

  When Lavender heard Georgia giggle girlishly, she glanced at Julian. The woman's hand was in his, and she was whispering something in his ear. Lavender looked quickly away when Julian stared across the room at her. She was determined not to allow her anger to have the upper hand. She was not going to play Georgia's game. She reminded herself that as the Swallow, she had been an expert at enticing men. Georgia would be no competition for her if she really wanted to draw Julian's attention. As if in retaliation for the hurt she was feeling, Lavender smiled up at Sheldon, and poor Lord Waltham did
not know he was about to become another victim of the Swallow.

  She moistened her lips and gave him her most innocent look. "Tell me about Julian as a boy, Lord Waltham."

  Sheldon stared into blue eyes that contained hidden depths to draw a man astray. Her lovely face, so angelic, so perfect, was crowned by glorious golden hair. Her eyes were as blue as a summer sky. He swallowed hard and tried to remember this was his best friend's wife. "Julian was always in control, while I sometimes blundered through life. Even early on, he organized everyone and everything. He became duke at a very young age, and after that he never seemed to have fun anymore. He took his responsibilities very seriously—sometimes too seriously."

  Lavender tried to imagine Julian as a boy. "I can see where there are many people who depend on him. That must have been frightening for a young boy."

  Sheldon glanced down at her. "1 do not believe Julian has ever been afraid of anything in his life." He smiled. "But if I were him, I would be a little frightened of you."

  She returned his smile. "Who would be frightened of me? I am just a woman."

  "Not just a woman, Your Grace, but the wife of a man who could not be caught by any other marriage-minded female. You have accomplished the impossible, and I salute you." His eyes dancing with mirth, and with an exaggerated bow, he lifted her hand to his lips.

  Sheldon's laughter reached Julian's ears, and the duke was by now burning with jealousy. Rising from the couch, Julian moved to the silver tray on the sideboard and poured four glasses of wine. "I wonder if you would all join me in a toast?" He handed a glass to Georgia, and then one out to Lavender, making her wonder what was in his mind. Lavender could tell by the pulsebeat in his temple that he was angry, and she was glad. She had shown him that she would not be intimidated by his attentiveness to another woman.

  "What is the occasion?" Sheldon asked, taking his glass and raising it in the air.

  Julian pulled Lavender into the circle of his arms. "We drink to my wife, who is about to make me a father."

  Lavender saw Georgia's face fall, and tears sparkled in her eyes that quickly darted to Lavender's waistline, seeing no evidence that she was with child. Lavender had to admit the woman had courage when she smiled in defeat. "Julian, to your wife," she said softly.

  Lavender wondered how many other women in the length and breadth of England would also be heartbroken by Julian's announcement? Her eyes met Julian's, and she saw the coldness reflected there. If only the other women knew what little regard Julian had for her as his wife, she thought, they would be far less envious of her position.

  "This is good news," Sheldon stated with genuine elation. "I never thought you would beat me to the altar, Julian, and now you are going to be a father." Laughingly, Sheldon refilled his own glass and raised it to Lavender. "Your Grace, I salute you again."

  Georgia won Lavender's respect when she displayed her courage by raising her glass and softly saying, "I salute you also, Your Grace. You must be exceptional if Julian chose you."

  "Now, I must insist on an early evening for my wife," Julian announced. "She has just today arrived from London and she needs her rest."

  Lavender was puzzled by Julian's actions tonight. She wondered if she would ever understand this complicated man. He seemed to be using her to distance himself from poor Georgia, and she wondered what his motive could be.

  "If the two of you will excuse me, I will see Lavender to her room and rejoin you later."

  Lavender said all the polite utterances, and allowed Julian to lead her out of the room. He was silent as they ascended the stairs, saying nothing until they entered her chamber. With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him.

  "Why did you do it, Lavender?" he asked in a harsh tone.

  "Do what?" she asked innocently.

  "You know perfectly well what I am talking about. Sheldon is my boyhood friend, why did you try to play him against me?"

  She reached out to him. "No, Julian, that was not my intention. I just . . ." She felt embarrassed now for her actions. "I just wanted you to see that I did not care if you flirted with his sister."

  He gave her a look of amazement. "Did you really believe that was what 1 was doing?"

  "That was the way it appeared to me."

  He took in a deep breath. "Perhaps 1 should explain something to you. Georgia has been betrothed to marry a very worthy man, but she would not go through with the wedding, because she fancies herself ... to be in love with me. Sheldon asked me if I would show her that there was no future for her and me. What you witnessed tonight was for her benefit alone. You almost spoiled everything by being so solicitous to Sheldon. But I believe the plan worked in the end."

  Lavender stared at him in disbelief. "Then you are worse than I thought. If tonight was staged to hurt that woman, then you have no feelings. Who do you think you are, playing with peoples' lives as if you were God?"

  He could not understand her anger. In his mind, he felt he had done Georgia a kindness. "You do not understand the English, Lavender. It is in Georgia's best interest to marry Baron Hamton."

  She moved away from him. "We are certainly in agreement on one thing, Julian. 1 do not now, nor will I ever understand you English."

  He spoke coolly, as if he were speaking to a child who had little understanding. "That is because we do not allow our hearts to rule our heads like you Americans do."

  "Pity," she said, turning away from him. "What an organized little world you live in. More the pity that the rest of us cannot be ruled by common sense rather than our hearts. But then, you do not have a heart, do you, Julian?"

  He stood silently, staring at the back of her head. "I don't have time to go into this with you now, Lavender," he said, turning away and walking out of the bedchamber. Would he ever be able to understand Lavender? he wondered. Why must she always misconstrue everything he said. Could she really believe that he had no heart? What an absurd notion.

  Lavender came awake when she felt the bed move. Moonlight was streaming through the window, giving the illusion of daylight. Julian's hand reached out to her, and she became fully awake when he pulled her against his naked body. She strained toward him, seeking the warmth that radiated from him.

  Julian swallowed hard, trying to calm the raging blood that pumped through his body. What was it about Lavender that kept pulling him back? There was something about her that he had never found in other women—although he could not have said what that something was. Whatever hold she had over him, he could never have enough of her.

  His knees slid between her thighs, and he was impatient to take her to him. Their coming together was agony and beauty combined. Their mouths clung together, their bodies straining for blissful fulfillment. Julian, thinking he might be too heavy for her, rolled over on his back, balancing her above him. With mind-destroying deliberateness, he positioned Lavender so it was easy to slip inside her.

  He suddenly became motionless, and his breath came out in a rush when he felt her move her legs so she was straddling him. With every nerve end in his body crying out at the feelings she evoked in him, he grasped her waist and rhythmically moved her against him.

  Magic and enchantment throbbed through their bodies. He could feel the silkiness of her, and she was pulsating from the hardness of him. Time stood still; nothing mattered but the feelings that were more enduring than life itself. Julian trembled beneath the strain of holding his passion in check, fearing he would hurt Lavender or the unborn child. Slowly he led them both through swirling passion to reach a shuddering climax.

  For a long moment they lay in each other's arms. Finally she rolled over and brushed her golden mane from her face, a smile touching her lips. "Is this to be your bedroom also?"

  He stared in wonder at her naked beauty as his body came alive with burning desire. "No, but I hope you will not deny me access to it as often as I wish/'

  She frowned, not liking the fact that she was to receive him whenever he chose. "Am I to be at your beck an
d call, then?"

  His finely chiseled mouth tightened. "I would not put it that way, Lavender. Why is it that with you, I am always saying the wrong thing?"

  "I don't know, but it does not bear thinking about. If this is not your bed, should you not leave?"

  He did not move, but stared at her. "1 do not care to be with you when you are in this cold mood, Lavender."

  She grew daring in her folly and put on the face of the seductress while melting against him. "I am warming up now, Your Grace. Do you like me better this way? Shall I play the Swallow with you, and lure you to me with soft smiles and honeyed words?"

  "Don't go too far, Lavender," he warned. "If you do not stop I will not be responsible for what happens."

  Her eyes blazed, and her golden hair rippled down her naked back, drifting across her breasts. Her hand slid across his shoulder to tangle in the mat of hair on his chest. "You said tonight that your heart never ruled your head. Shall 1 prove to you that you are wrong? Shall I show you how well the Swallow can entrap a man and make him forget about his head?" She moistened her lips and moved forward. "I am after your heart."

  Julian's eyes were burning with desire. Even though he knew she was playing with him, he was helplessly drawn to her—he could not stop himself from wanting her. With a muttered oath, he grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her face up to his lips. Like a man dying of thirst, his lips sought her mouth in a kiss so passionate that he was lost to common sense.

  Lavender knew she had ignited a fire that she could not put out, and it would soon consume her if she was not careful. "No, Julian," she pleaded, trying to pull away from him.

  "It's too late, Lavender," he said in a thick voice. "I am about to give you what you asked for."

  "No, I didn't ask for—"

  He pulled her tightly to him, and against her will, her body melted against his. "Did you not, Lavender? Let me set you straight on one point. It is not my heart that is ruling me at this moment. Rather it is no more than animal lust! But make no mistake about it, lust can be stronger than love."