Valencia was wearing a silk dressing gown that clung to her every curve. Her hair was down, with curls cascading about her. She looked like every male’s fantasy come to life.
And Liam couldn’t be less interested.
“How clever of you to find a room so far away from the others,” she purred, advancing toward him, only to be blocked from entering the room by his rather solid bulk. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“I am afraid, Valencia, that my appearance at this party may have given you the wrong impression. I am here only to help Lyman with a problem that his arisen on his estate. And since I must awaken in the early morning, I must bid you good night.”
But if he’d hoped to dissuade the lady, he was to be disappointed. No sooner had he ended his neat speech than she dropped her dressing gown, revealing everything God had given her. Except modesty and common sense.
“Lady Elling!” said Liam, as he looked about in the hall. They were in a rarely used wing of the house, but one of the servants might pass by on the way to his quarters. “Put your dressing gown back on before someone…”
Before he could finish the sentence, they both heard the sound of footsteps further down the hall. Without thinking, Liam pulled Valencia into his room and shut the door.
“That’s much better,” she said, as she reached up to put her arms around his neck, while she pressed her nude form against him.
He reached up to pull her arms apart. She was surprisingly strong, no doubt the result of a resolve Wellington could not have bettered.
“Lady Elling,” he said. “Valencia. While I am flattered that you would offer yourself to me in this way – and I have fond memories of our alliance – I must decline this and all future advances. It has nothing to do with you. Any number of gentlemen would fight for the chance to be where I am now. However, I must admit that my heart belongs to another.”
“Oh, Lynwood,” she said, as she pressed her hand to his cock. “It is not your heart I’m after.”
He removed her hand from his person, then kept her at a safe distance. “I am in earnest, Lady Elling. Please do not press the point further. My heart belongs to another and I will not – I cannot – fall into someone else’s arms. It was wrong of me to do so before.”
A myriad of emotions flashed across her face. Surprise, hurt and anger all vied for prominence until she said coolly, “So the rumors are true. You are trying to cuckold Fallmoor.”
It was a direct hit to his honor. “It is time for you to leave, Lady Elling. Kindly do so now.”
But before she had the chance to, the door opened. Liam turned to see Lady Darva Montpelier standing there in her nightclothes, holding Valencia’s discarded dressing gown. He could feel Valencia slowly press herself against him from behind in response.
“I found this in the hall,” said Lady Montpelier. “Did you misplace it, Valencia?”
“I no longer had a need for it,” replied the lady.
Liam simply took the dressing gown from Lady Montpelier and passed it to Valencia with nary a backward glance. “There was a misunderstanding,” he told Lady Montpelier. “I would ask that you not tell others about it.”
Lady Montpelier – who as of yet hadn’t explained just what she was doing knocking at his door – smiled a bit too innocently. “I would not dream of telling anyone what I witnessed tonight. Why, the two of you might be forced into a marriage and I am quite sure no one wants that.”
“Yes,” said Lady Elling in a tone of voice that should have killed Lady Montpelier on the spot. “No one at all.”
Liam was finally able to usher the two women out of his room. He opened the door and watched as the two walked down the hall, then he looked up to find the maid Olivia looking at him. Or, rather, looking down on him. Instead of the diffident expression commonly found on most servants, she was looking straight at him with one raised brow. Then she shook her head in such a slight manner as to be barely perceptible.
“Good night, Olivia,” said Liam, mentally increasing the vail he’d leave for her.
She bobbed a quick curtsey. “Good night, your grace.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
As a lady who’d been expected to marry well, Rosalind had been taught how to organize all manner of entertainments from a simple at-home gathering for visitors to grand balls for royalty. Not that any members of the royal family had ever attended events at Rosalind’s home. Even the King in his decadent youth had avoided it.
Now, Rosalind sat with half a dozen women in the tavern to organize the Christmas festivities, led by the village’s pre-eminent gossip, Mrs. Milton.
“The celebration is the beginning of the Christmas season,” Mrs. Milton had explained for Rosalind’s sake. “We have a bonfire, mulled wine and caroling.”
“There’s also a fair amount of whiskey for the men,” added Mrs. Mayweather.
“Yes, well, we should not be encouraging drink,” said Mrs. Milton repressively, which made Rosalind want to suggest bringing in whiskey for the ladies, as well. The meeting itself would certainly be more enjoyable with spirits, especially if Mrs. Milton continued running it.
“What will we serve as the meal?” asked Mrs. Taney, the smithy’s wife. “My Freddie is always hungry. Does anyone know what Gabriel is donating?”
All eyes turned to Rosalind. She cleared her throat. “He mentioned something about a pork roast, though he’ll have to go about it when Daisy is not around since I believe she named the pig in question.”
All eyes continued to be fixed upon her.
“You’ve grown rather close to the family in the short time you’ve been here,” said Mrs. Milton in a tone that suggested she had a feeling they’d grown very close, indeed.
“They have all been quite kind to me.”
“I am sure they have,” said Mrs. Milton. “Has one of them been particularly kind to you?”
Rosalind was saved from answering – and Mrs. Milton spared a set-down – by the sound of carriages in the lane. Rosalind was surprised, because other than the mail coach that came through four times a month, the village saw very little traffic. And from the sound of things, the carriages were drawing to a halt.
All but Rosalind ran to the window, anxious to see the uncommon sight of visitors arriving. From her seat, Rosalind could discern that the carriages were those of a gentleman, which paralyzed her with fear. Had her brother finally caught up to her? After a moment, she could think clearly enough to realize it was unlikely her family would send not one but two carriages after her. More likely they would have sent a Runner for her. Could they be Fallmoor’s carriages? They didn’t look as grand as his, but she wasn’t going to wait around to find out.
Unfortunately, Mr. Hammons was at that moment moving a few kegs of ale in through the back door, preventing Rosalind’s exit. If she went out the front entrance, she would surely run into the occupants of the carriage. With no escape, Rosalind kept her head down, pretending to study her notes from the meeting, as she waited for the opportunity to slip away.
A group of ladies entered the tavern looking pained to be there. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the newcomers stare down Mrs. Milton and her group. The ladies looked familiar, but Rosalind was turned away enough that she couldn’t quite see them clearly. Mr. Hammons rushed to his guests, who were then joined by a gentleman. Rosalind couldn’t hear what they were saying, but when Mrs. Milton and the other women rejoined her a moment later, they relayed the entire incident.
It appeared some guests of the earl were going for a drive in the country when one of the carriages began to list perilously, having broken a wheel. While it might have been possible for all of the ladies to return to the house in one carriage, that would have required them to overcrowd the other coach.
The drivers had pressed on to the village in hopes of making the repairs and the ladies had little choice but to while away the time at the tap, though none of them looked pleased to do so.
Shielded by Mrs. Milton, who was a
s broad as she was talkative, Rosalind risked a glance at the party. It was worse than she’d imagined. She recognized two of the ladies. One was Lady Montpelier, a woman whom Rosalind’s mother had condescended to bring into fashion when the younger woman had first married. Lady Montpelier had later repaid the favor by giving Rosalind’s mother the cut direct, once her financial troubles had become widely known.
But even more worrisome was the lady’s companion, Lady Valencia Elling. Lady Elling was a rich widow. Given the difference in their age and marital status, Rosalind had but a passing acquaintance with the lady. But she was rumored to be having an affair with Liam. Rosalind didn’t know which course of action she wanted to take more: scratching the woman’s eyes out or making a quick exit. If not for her fear of being discovered, she likely would have done both. But for now, she had little recourse but to turn away and wait for her chance to escape.
The ladies were none too pleased with their surroundings, despite the serving staff having dropped everything to attend to them. Mrs. Milton and the other village women couldn’t stop staring.
“I daresay those are some of the nicest carriage gowns to be seen in all of England,” said Mrs. Milton. “Of course the earl, for all his faults, does mix with only the best in London society.”
Yet another knot wedged itself into Rosalind’s stomach. If the earl was hosting a house party and Lady Elling was there, did that mean Liam was, too? She had to take a deep breath to calm herself. On the one hand, she dearly wished for even one glance of Liam, from afar of course. But it would only make the pain of separation that much more difficult. Not that it was getting any easier. She seemed to miss him more each day.
And if she ran into him…her heart fluttered at the very thought. But what would happen to her then? She didn’t think he would return her to London if he came upon her, though she could not be sure what his honor would dictate. She was, however, confident that if Lady Elling or Lady Montpelier saw her, they would waste no time in making her location known to not only her family and Fallmoor, but to everyone else in the ton. She had to make her escape without being seen.
“Miss Williams!”
Rosalind was torn from her thoughts by Mrs. Milton, who had evidently asked her a question.
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Milton. Could you please repeat your question?” Leave it to the blasted woman to keep her there when the back exit was finally clear.
Mrs. Milton sighed, as if Rosalind had asked her to swim the Channel two times over. “I asked whether you’d seen such elegant gowns where you grew up. And where was that, again?”
“The Marquess of Riverton’s estate in Cornwall.” She prayed that would be the end to the nosy woman’s inquiry.
But it was not to be.
“What was he like? The marquess?”
Rosalind had never met Marcus’s father, although she liked Marcus very well, indeed. Just thinking of Riverton and Lizzie made Rosalind homesick. Trying not to peek at Liam’s paramour certainly wasn’t helping her mood.
“You must excuse me, Mrs. Milton, ladies, but I am not feeling well.” Rosalind gave a half-hearted smile, then kept her face averted as she made her way to the back of the tavern and escaped.
The air was bracing and exactly what Rosalind needed. She leaned against the wall for a moment to catch her breath. Would it always be this way? Always wondering if a chance encounter with the earl’s guests would lead to her discovery and return to London. Maybe she should have continued on to Scotland. She still could. But somehow in the past few weeks, she’d found a sense of purpose that had always been missing from her life.
Her pupils had made remarkable progress in just the short time she’d been teaching. And there was nothing like the joy in a child’s face when she first learned to read or do sums. Not for the first time did she think she might have been happier in life if she really had been the daughter of a housekeeper because it would have been expected for her to make her own way in the world. She could be a teacher and wouldn’t have to hide. And she could give her heart to someone like Gabriel Mills because there never would have been a William Kellington.
But there was no sense in wallowing in what might have been. Rosalind took one more breath of the fresh air, then walked around the corner of the tavern.
Only to have her heart stop beating.
There he was, not twenty yards away. The Duke of Lynwood – Liam – was on his horse, thankfully not looking her way. She ducked behind a pile of crates in case he turned around. But she could not stop staring. She would have known him anywhere. It wasn’t necessary to see his face. His straight back, his ease in the saddle were all she needed to see to know it was him. Of course, it helped that for years she’d sneaked glances at the man when he wasn’t looking. She was well aware of what his back looked like.
Unfortunately, her view was ruined when Lady Elling left the tavern by the front entrance and walked over to Liam, where she was now looking up at his dear face. She was saying something that Rosalind could not hear. No doubt planning a rendezvous for later than evening. Or that afternoon. After all, it had been an afternoon when he’d made advances to Rosalind at Lizzie’s wedding.
Her cheeks warmed with the memory.
She must have stared at Liam’s back a moment too long, because she suddenly became aware of Lady Elling’s gaze upon her. With a gasp, Rosalind quickly ran to the back of the building once again. She wasn’t sure if Lady Elling had recognized her. They had only a passing acquaintance and they had been separated by at least forty feet. In addition, there was no reason why Lady Elling would expect to run into her in such unusual circumstances. She was probably safe, but could not risk discovery. Rosalind walked as quickly and as silently as possible to the other side of the tavern. She needed only to steal away to the nearest outbuilding, then could take cover on the other side of the church as she walked home. She could avoid the road and no one would be the wiser.
But, once again, fate stepped in. Rosalind had no sooner cleared the tavern than she came face to face with Lady Elling.
“So it is you, Miss Carson,” said Lady Elling. “I thought I recognized you in that dreadful tavern.”
Rosalind considered trying to lie her way out of it, but decided to throw herself on the lady’s mercy instead. She only hoped she had some.
“Yes, Lady Elling, it is I,” she said, as she curtsied. “What brings you to Kibworth?”
“A house party, of course,” she said. “I cannot imagine coming to this part of the country for any other reason. Of course, I wasn’t going to come but he insisted.” From the way she said “he,” there was no doubt to whom she was referring.
Rosalind felt ill. She’d just seen the two of them together, but now it was confirmed. She smiled weakly. “I hope you are enjoying the country.”
“I cannot imagine happier circumstances. But the question begs, what are you doing here? Last I heard you were preparing for your wedding.”
“Yes, well, I decided that it would be best if the Duke of Fallmoor and I parted ways.”
“And did you happen to inform him of that before you left?”
“I left a note,” she said slowly. A note she was sure neither her mother nor brother would have passed on to Fallmoor.
“I see. Well, knowing your dear mama as I do, I can only guess what she did with it.”
“Oh, Lady Elling, I do not wish to involve you in this, but can you find it within yourself to keep my whereabouts a secret? I cannot marry his grace, but fear I will be forced to if Mama and my brother learn where I am.”
Lady Elling said not a word, but pursed her lips together as if considering the request. “But how will you survive on your own?”
“I am teaching the village children in exchange for meals and lodging.”
Lady Elling’s astonishment was the most honest expression Rosalind had seen from her yet. “You are teaching the village children? You mean the farmer’s children?”
Rosalind nodded.
�
��But whyever for? I cannot imagine any of them even have the ability to learn, nor can I imagine any of them putting such knowledge to use. What a waste of time, both for you and for them when they could be working instead.”
Rosalind had to bite her tongue to keep from telling the arrogant woman what she thought of her rude assessment. But she needed Lady Elling’s silence and while there was no guarantee she would get it, she knew there would be no hope of her cooperation if she antagonized her. So, instead she simply said, “I have been delighted by the children’s willingness to learn. And I am very grateful for this opportunity.”
Lady Elling tsked. “I admire you for making the best of your situation. Of course, given you have so few options, what choice do you have?” She looked Rosalind up and down. “Do they force you to wear that gown?”
It was only the threat of marriage to Fallmoor that kept Rosalind from yanking the woman’s beautiful blonde hair out of her intricate coiffure and quite possibly her head. “I sold many of my gowns for the journey here. The ones I bought in place of them are much more practical.”
“They are the height of practicality,” said Lady Elling. “If you like that sort of thing.”
“I must ask you, Lady Elling. Will you keep my confidence?”
Lady Elling waited another moment before answering. Finally, she nodded. “Of course. Your secret will be safe with me.”
“One more thing. That is, well…I would most especially like to keep this a secret from the Duke of Lynwood.” It hurt to think of the confidences shared between the two of them. “May I have your word that you will not speak of this to him?”
Lady Elling smiled. “My dear, I would not dream of it.”
* * *
Liam sat on his horse, anxious to return to Lyman’s house. He had been tempted to simply set out for London that morning, but he had made a promise and wanted to at least try to fulfill it. He also knew being in London without word of Rosalind would drive him mad.
Never Deny Your Heart (Kellington Book Five) Page 8