He took the parasol Rose was carrying and started walking with it held aloft over Miss Selwyn. After the pair of them had gone a few paces, the maid started to follow, keeping a polite distance—close enough that she could see everything that transpired, but far enough she couldn’t overhear if they didn’t want her to. That worked out very well with his plans for today because he wanted to speak plainly with his faux fiancée.
Every few moments, they passed one acquaintance or another, however. It was a bit of a relief that, at least so far, it seemed he had been right about what would happen. All across the park, ladies were whispering to one another from behind their fans and looking in the direction of Luke and Miss Selwyn. After a moment, though, they would lower their fans and smile, perhaps wave in a friendly manner.
That behavior confirmed that everyone knew what had happened last night, whether they had been in attendance at his ball or not, but it also confirmed that being seen together after the fact would help to quell any harsher-than-necessary rumors that would otherwise be spread about the young lady.
“I owe you an apology,” Luke said once they’d been walking for a few minutes. Her eyes flashed up to meet him, but at least she didn’t flinch when he spoke this time. He met her gaze. “I should not have argued with Lord Medeley last night, and I should have waited to go through with our original plan. It was poorly done of me, and I’m sorrier than you could ever know. I will strive to make amends.”
A trail branched off from the main path they were walking, but Luke purposefully kept them heading exactly as they had been.
Miss Selwyn let out an audible sigh of relief. “And why did you argue with Medeley last night, if I may ask? Dancing a third set together within the course of the evening ought to have been more than enough of a scandal to achieve our aims.”
“I…” He felt silly admitting the truth, but what else could explain his behavior? “You mustn’t laugh when I tell you.”
“A lady would never laugh at a gentleman, my lord. We merely laugh with them.” For the first time all day, her eyes had taken on that same playful quality he’d noticed in them last night, the very quality that had brought him to make his suggestion in the first place.
“Of course, you’re right,” he said, letting the warmth of her smile work its way into his soul. “Then I’ll be out with it. I was jealous that Goderich was dancing with you and I was not, but when I saw Medeley making his way to your mother, I could see nothing but my own jealousy at the thought of him claiming a dance, as well.”
A new tension tightened her grip upon his arm, and she slowed her pace. “Surely you jest. There was no call for you to be envious.”
Luke knew that all too well. His possessiveness made even less sense when considered alongside the fact that their engagement was only for show. Yet, logical or not, he had been so mad with envy he hadn’t been able to think clearly, particularly since he knew Sir Henry’s desire for his daughter to marry someone of higher station than himself. Securing a marquess would be a coup.
“I wish I could say that it was a jest,” he said finally.
She glanced briefly at him and then shook her head. “I fear I need to take my brothers’ warnings far more seriously.”
“What warnings?” he asked, sure she would tell him something about what a rogue or a scoundrel he was and that she shouldn’t ever put her faith in him.
“They tell me to never trust a charmer since they are so often looking out only for their own interests.”
A smile tugged at Luke’s lips as surprise settled over him. “You find me charming?”
“Too charming by half, my lord, and therefore bound to cause me trouble.”
“As I’ve already done.”
She chuckled, looking out at the sea of people walking through the park just as they were. “I’m sure there will be more where that came from if I spend enough time in your company.”
“You seemed intrigued by the idea last night.”
“I still am today, but perhaps I ought to be more cautious.”
“Or perhaps you ought to throw caution to the wind and give in to the intrigue.” He wanted her to give in to it, and that thought was rather unsettling. Miss Selwyn had captivated him in a way he never would have expected. He wasn’t prepared to sort through his feelings on the matter just yet, but he wanted her to be just as absorbed by him as he was by her.
“Throwing caution to the wind nearly got me ruined last night. For that matter, it may still prove to do so.” She glanced over her shoulder, and he followed her gaze to Rose, who had nearly caught up to them. Miss Selwyn picked up her pace. “I am not certain I made a wise decision last night, but I am determined to follow through with it until the end of the Season. That said, I don’t know how to go about allowing you to court me while keeping my heart out of it, because you are entirely too charming for my own good. I hadn’t factored spending so much time in your presence for the next fortnight into the equation when I agreed to this plan. I must beg you not to complicate matters for me further, as you know I must, at some point, make a match my family will find acceptable.”
“Of course, you must.” Luke should have found it concerning that Miss Selwyn spoke aloud the thoughts that had been running through his mind about their situation almost word for word, and yet, he merely found it amusing. “I doubt it makes you feel any better about the situation,” he said, trying hard not to laugh aloud, “but I didn’t think things through to this point, either. And I daresay I’m coming to find you rather enchanting, Miss Selwyn. Perhaps I find you even more enchanting than you find me charming.”
A ferocious blush pinked her cheeks, but when she met his eyes again, hers were once more filled with that lively glow that had initially drawn him to her.
“You, my lord, are an incurable rogue.”
“If only you’d realized that before you fell in with me.” He smiled, as charming a smile as he could manage through the panic clutching at his lungs. He’d almost made a gargantuan mistake. He’d almost said before you fell in love with me, as though she could possibly ever do that.
This wasn’t about love, none of it.
In the week since that afternoon, resisting Lord Blackmore’s charms had proven to be far more difficult than Julianna had anticipated, and guarding her heart against falling in love with him was becoming the most difficult part of all. How could she develop such a tendre for him in such a short period of time? It made no sense, and yet she already held him in a very deep affection, so deep she was sure she would end up nursing a very badly broken heart once she and her family returned to Essex after the Season.
None of this would be problematic, of course, if their brief engagement had gone as Julianna had initially imagined it would: if Lord Blackmore had simply gone about his life and allowed her to go about her own. Instead, he had been by her side even more than she’d anticipated after he’d said he would court her for the intervening fortnight. As he’d told her parents he would do, he was making certain to be seen at her side as frequently as possible and in as many different places as he could. He wanted the entire ton to see them and how very much in love they were, he’d told her.
It would hardly be difficult for anyone to see how much she was beginning to care for him. She doubted she could prevent it from being written all over her face.
The day after their walk through Hyde Park, he’d brought his brother and Miranda Hunt to fetch Julianna, and the four of them had gone together to get ices at Gunter’s. They had talked and laughed and had a grand time, and a bond had formed between Miranda and Julianna almost immediately. Both had come from very staid, traditional families who were more than a little dismayed by their newfound involvement with the Devalle family. Before long, Lord Blackmore and Mr. Devalle had started sharing stories of themselves and their sister, Amelia, as children, until the four of them were laughing like loons and drawing the eye of everyone nearby.
That night, Lord Blackmore had made arrangements for Mama, Papa,
and Phillip to join him in his box at Covent Garden along with Julianna. He’d made a concerted effort to spend time speaking with both her parents before the play and during intermission, as well as drawing Phillip into the conversation when her brother wasn’t otherwise occupied with scowling. Blackmore had discussed crop rotations and tenant farmers with Papa and Phillip, even offering to set up a meeting between Papa and his solicitor. When he sat with Julianna and Mama, he’d turned his conversation to the last novel Mama had read. He had been so attentive, truly listening to everything Mama had to say and promising he would read that very book in the coming weeks so they could discuss it more fully.
It was as though he was trying to get her family to like him, which made little sense if they were to end their relationship in only a brief time. At that point, they would loathe everything about him. But for now, he was winning them over—and in the process, winning over Julianna.
The following afternoon, Lord Blackmore had called on her at tea time during her at-home, when the drawing room was filled with nearly a dozen ladies who all wished to know every detail of how their engagement had come to be. He’d brought a bouquet of hothouse flowers with him, and had proceeded to spend nearly a half an hour outlining in extravagant, false detail how he’d fallen head over ears in love with her while they’d danced that first night.
Later that evening, he’d attended the very ball Julianna was to attend, claiming her hand for both the first waltz and the supper dance—the two dances they’d been meant to dance together that first night, before everything changed—and flirting with her outrageously the entire time. He’d been such an inveterate seducer the entire evening, complimenting her skill in dancing and commenting on how the particular blue of her dress brought out the shimmer in her eyes, that Julianna was forced to remind herself almost constantly that their ruse was still in play.
Those reminders were becoming more and more difficult to believe with each passing day.
The rest of the week was filled with more jaunts through Hyde Park, balls and routs, musicales, soirees, and every other form of diversion imaginable. And at each event, Lord Blackmore remained faithfully by her side, charming her to her core until she almost wished he would be the one to end their engagement. Yes, it would ruin her, but she might already be ruined in another sense: she might never be able to love another man, not like she was coming to love Lord Blackmore, and she doubted she would have the strength to end things between them as she was supposed to do.
Along those same lines, he was adapting to his role so well that some days Julianna couldn’t be sure if he was still playing the part or if he was honestly falling in love with her in return. That was a ridiculous notion, however—an earl ought to be almost as far beyond her reach as a marquess, and she had no powerful connections to offer him—and each time it passed through her mind she forced it to the side. The simple fact that she was having difficulty in keeping her heart out of their relationship was not enough cause to assume he would have the same trouble. Lord Blackmore might simply be a better actor than she was. He merely intended to be sure he wasn’t trapped into actually marrying her, that she could cry off at the end of their fortnight without creating a scandal too big for either of them to survive.
The more she thought about it, the more that seemed likely to be the case. After all, he and his siblings had developed reputations within the beau monde as being a devilish lot. The more time she spent in his presence, though, the less that reputation suited him.
He was known to gamble, of course. Phillip and her other brothers had made Julianna well aware of that fact, and indeed, Lord Blackmore had admitted as much to her one night while they danced at Lady Ingersoll’s ball. Yet in the time she had known him, not once had he slipped off to the card rooms. And unless he was spiriting himself off to the gaming hells after their evening entertainments and then completely neglecting to sleep, he was not gambling in the least.
All of that combined to convince Julianna that while her pretend fiancé might have a tendency to go against the grain from time to time, he was no more devilish than she was, which made him just the perfect combination of gentleman and troublemaker.
A little mischief never hurt anyone. At least not permanently.
Of course, at the moment, she was beginning to think that perhaps Lord Blackmore was slightly more devious than she had previously given him credit for.
Lord and Lady Effingham had invited them to spend an evening at Vauxhall along with two dozen others. The guests had barely arrived and gotten settled in Effingham’s box before groupings started to splinter off and explore the pleasure gardens. Before Julianna realized what was going on, only she and Lord Blackmore remained in the box. For half a second, she thought he must have planned to get her alone like this, but then she remembered how he always insisted upon having a chaperone present.
It all made sense when considering his goal of preventing a grand scandal.
He looked after the last of the stragglers as they walked away, his expression as troubled as she felt. “We could catch my sister and mother, I’m sure,” he said, his voice sounding somewhat strangled. “At least then we would have someone to chaperone. I’m sure that would ease your mother’s mind.”
“You sound as though you’d rather eat mud,” she joked.
Raising a brow, he nodded slightly, a bemused expression coming over his face. “It’s not Amelia. I’m not sure how much I want to expose you to Mother. She’s not the easiest person to like, and I have no idea what she might do to you after…”
“After I throw you over,” Julianna finished for him. And there was yet another wrinkle in their plan. Heavens, but this was becoming more complicated by the day.
Lord Blackmore scowled. “She might actually be more polite to you than she is to her children, particularly after you throw me over. But then again, she might not. I have no way of knowing.”
“Then let’s not test her.” Placing her hand upon his elbow, she pointed toward one of the main paths. “We can be sure to stay on the well-traveled walkways and avoid going anywhere we might slip into unintentional privacy.”
He gave her a wry smile. “You aren’t afraid I’ll drag you off onto one of the dark paths and steal your virtue?”
On the contrary, she was terrified that he would continue to be the very same charming gentleman he’d been all week long and therefore leave her shattered. She couldn’t very well say anything like that to him, though, so she shook her head, ignoring the furious pumping of her heart. “Not in the least, my lord.”
“Why do I have difficulty believing you?”
“Wishful thinking?” Julianna suggested.
He chuckled as they headed toward the Chinese pavilion. “Indeed.”
His laughter and that single word combined to send heat swirling through her body. She tried to shake off the sensation, but he placed his free hand over hers in a possessive manner, only causing the heat to rise. A fluttery, tingling sensation started to course through her veins.
They walked quietly, letting the sounds of nature accompany their adventure. The moon shone bright from high overhead, lighting their path and casting the shadows of trees down near their feet that rippled like the waves of the ocean in the breeze.
Several minutes passed, and still that word kept echoing in her mind. “Indeed.” He was teasing her, surely. Still playing his part even though no one was around to witness it.
That must also be the reason for him holding her in such a manner. It wasn’t too familiar if they were truly to marry soon. Neither would spending the evening walking in relative privacy be inappropriate, if not for the fact that he had no intention of following through with their engagement.
With every step she took, Julianna found herself wishing more than before that this was not all a farcical ploy.
But it was. In only a few more days, she had to put an end to it. She’d promised to free him, and, in the process, to free herself. Yet, if she was supposedly going to be f
reeing herself, why did it feel like a sentence instead?
What would happen if I didn’t cry off?
“I would be honor-bound, as a gentleman, to marry you,” he said, startling her from her thoughts.
Julianna blinked rapidly, shaking her head. “What?”
“If you didn’t cry off,” he explained, as though she were the simplest of simpletons. Which might not be too far from reality. Had she asked her question aloud? She must have, since he was answering it.
“We would marry just like everyone thinks we will,” he continued. “Your father and I have already agreed to the terms, after all. The plan is in place.”
As was their plan—the one involving her coming to her senses and rejecting him.
“My brother already wants to challenge you, you know. Phillip,” she added to clarify, lest he think it was one of her other brothers. Not that it really mattered which one would initiate the duel. If Phillip didn’t for some reason, any of the others would.
A chill raced through her body, and she shivered. Lord Blackmore drew her closer to him, just an inch, but it was enough that his heat warmed her.
“I know,” he replied.
“When I end this, he won’t accept any excuse I could give him as to why he shouldn’t do so then. No matter what I tell him, he will challenge you.”
Lord Blackmore nodded. “I know that, as well.”
“Do you have a quarrel with my brother?”
“I would if he neglected to defend your honor. That is a brother’s duty.”
The longer they talked, the less sense she could make of things in her head. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand a brother’s responsibility to protect his sister’s virtue?” The wry smile was back, tugging at the corners of his lips in a way that made her heart patter against the walls of her chest.
A Dance with the Devil (The Devilish Devalles) Page 5