“This is most irregular.” Constance stared at Robert, regarding him as if he were some kind of mythical animal. Lacey supposed she didn't blame her mother. As far as she knew, her daughter's main hobbies were distance games of chess, caring for animals, and roaming the hills around Baling House. She couldn't have expected this fine-looking Londoner to figure into any of this.
Robert stepped forward, and Lacey was stunned by the sheer amount of charm he could bring to bear. He looked every inch the contrite nobleman as he swept low and bowed to her mother as humbly as if she were a queen. Even as Davis fumed, he never took his gaze from Constance's.
“I must beg your forgiveness. Passion lit by post is passion still, and I have acted rashly. I wanted to come, to announce myself properly and begin a real courtship, but when I saw Lacey, I could not resist. Please, let me beg your pardon, as I am, after all, the Earl of Dellfield and should act it. Let us begin again.”
Lacey could almost hear her mother's mind clattering like an abacus. A title, good clothes, and good manners might go a long way toward resolving her mother's fury with her.
“Well, I suppose we can at least start from a place of friendship. We shall put you up here at Baling House, and we shall see what comes.”
Davis looked as if he had been stung, and he turned to Constance in shock.
“But what about—”
“And, of course, Lord Exter, you shall stay as well. There is nothing decided, after all, nothing concrete.”
It was a long way from saying that she would give away all of Lacey's books if she didn't obey, and Lacey breathed a soft sigh of relief.
“Now come in, Cook has prepared luncheon for all of us, and I must see if we can find an extra place for Lord Dellfield.”
As they moved into the house, Lacey felt something in her relax for the first time in what felt like a long time. She was safe for now. Then, as she looked at Robert's broad back, she wondered how long this feeling could last.
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CHAPTER
FOUR
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After luncheon, which proved to be surprisingly good if unsurprisingly awkward, Robert chose to take his ease in the library, recovering from the meal and turning over what in the world had happened. He had no interest in sharing the drawing room with the sullen Davis. The more time he spent with the young man, the more he felt that Lacey should have held him in the stream and not just dunked him.
He was moving through the library, inspecting a rather good collection of the classics, when he heard a rattle by the window. He found himself unsurprised when he saw that Lacey herself was throwing small pebbles at the glass.
He opened the window and stared down at her.
“What are you doing?”
“There's a side door through the arbor, just two doors down on the right if you turn left out of the library. Come meet me there!”
She turned and darted away, and Robert grinned. He had little idea what was happening, and even fewer thoughts about what role he was playing here, but he knew that it certainly wasn't boring.
He followed her directions easily enough, stepping from the arbor into the rear gardens. He was just wondering where in the world he should go next when Lacey darted out of the bushes, grabbed his hand, and dragged him deeper into the foliage.
“Where are we going?”
“You'll see.”
She tugged him to an overgrown pergola in a distant part of the garden. The pergola was half-collapsed, and the vines were taking it back slowly. Still, there was a bench inside where one could sit, and Robert noticed how very hidden they were from the house. Lacey gathered her pale green skirts around her and sat down, and Robert did the same. He suddenly couldn't remember the last time he had been in such a private place with a woman he wasn't having an affair with.
Once she had gotten him to this private place, however, Lacey seemed slightly at a loss. Her slender hands tangled in her lap, and she looked as if she couldn't meet his eyes. Suddenly, he could easily imagine her poring over a chessboard at night, going over every move she could make, every move he could make, reaching out to play their game over the weeks and months and years.
“It's all right.” Robert's voice was gentle when he spoke. “Take your time.”
“Well, first, I think I have now given you every reason you need to call me a virago.”
“Miss Welton, I think that they haven't come up with a term for whatever it is you are yet.”
She flashed him a smile, and he wanted to laugh at himself for simply assuming she was some aged matriarch. “Miss Welton may be appropriate, but not if we're engaged, yes?”
“All right, then. Lacey. And it was a good thing your mother shouted it so loudly, because I didn't know it. Why in the world don't you sign your name with your post? You've been Miss L. Welton for years.”
“Oh. Because my father thought it sounded more distinguished when I started to play. He never liked my name. He thought Lacey was rather ugly.”
“I think you're beautiful.”
The words popped out before he could stop them, and Lacey looked at him with an expression of utter befuddlement on her face. Had no one ever suggested she was beautiful before? There was a faint blush on her cheeks, but she shook her head and ignored it.
“I understand that I have put you in a rather difficult spot, and for that, I apologize.”
“I was hoping you might have a plan as well as an apology. As it is, this is one hell of a muddle, and only bound to get worse if people start asking me about you.”
“I do!”
She looked up brightly and leaned in closer to him.
“What I need you to do is to stay at Baling House and be my fiancé for just a week or so. Just until Davis gets tired of waiting around and leaves.”
Robert frowned. “I suppose Davis is the man who benefited so well from that dunking you gave him.”
“He is, and he's horrid. Or, well, maybe I'm being cruel. He's attentive and pays me all sorts of extravagant compliments and things like that, but the problem is, he refuses to stop. He's set on marrying me for some reason...”
“Your house? Your title? Your good looks?”
This time, the look that she shot him was one of frank exasperation.
“Don't be like Davis. I do not have much experience with them, but I am beginning to think that I do not really like compliments.”
“That would make you different from most women in London.”
“That sounds precisely right. But as I was saying. I don't want to marry Davis. I know that I will have to marry eventually. I am not so heartless as to let my mother's title pass to another. But she is far healthier than she lets on, and if I must wed, I'd rather it not be him. Is that so very difficult to understand?”
“No, it's easy to understand, but now I must ask, what am I getting out of the deal?”
Lacey lifted her chin, assuming an air of genteel nobility and honor. “You get the pleasure and privilege of helping out an old friend that you care about very much.”
That would probably be enough, but for some reason, Robert couldn't resist playing with her just a little. “Surely, you're not serious?”
She shrugged, not offended in the least. “Well, I suppose it was worth a try. What do you want? I can teach you the Turkish feint move. It would have saved more than a few matches for you.”
“You'll teach me that anyway when you're ready to stop ending games with it. What else have you got?”
“I could give you a lovely antique quilt. I wasn't fibbing when I said I had a connection.”
“That'll hardly be a thing I want in London. I was thinking of something a little earthier.”
“Beg pardon?”
Robert slid his arm over her shoulders, leaning toward her slowly. If she wanted to get away fr
om him, she had plenty of opportunities to do so, but instead, she watched him with large eyes.
“Robert, I don't know about this—”
“Shush. Let's see what you think of my fee.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Robert realized that he had wanted to kiss her ever since he pulled her up on the horse with him. He captured her lips like a conqueror took a city, claiming her, tasting her mouth thoroughly. For a moment, she was stiff in his arms, but then, like magic, she simply melted against him. She felt perfect next to him, and when she parted her lips timidly, he laughed just a little.
Before she could become too offended by his humor, he swept his tongue between her lips, making her gasp against him. Instead of biting him or shoving him away, however, her small hands clung to his jacket even harder, and she tilted her head back, tasting him even as he was tasting her. From somewhere deep inside Robert, a deep and echoing call came. He didn't want to lose this, wanted more and more, and he felt as if nothing in the world might stop him.
“Lacey! Lacey, where in the world are you?”
The worried shout of Countess Baling made them both pull apart, Lacey with a panicked gaze, and Robert with a reluctance he couldn't explain to himself. Lacey started to go off toward her mother's voice, but Robert took her by the hand.
“Is my price agreeable to you?”
For a moment, he thought she would deny it, put up more of a fuss, bargain with him. However, she smiled at him, and the sweetness of it her expression made something inside him melt. “More than, my lord.”
“It's Robert, not 'my lord.' You should get back to your mother.”
“I should. I will see you at dinner.”
As Lacey disappeared toward the house, Robert relaxed on the bench, staring up at the bright blue sky. He wasn't sure what in the world he was getting involved in, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was not going to be boring. Not in the least.
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CHAPTER
FIVE
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In retrospect, Lacey had to admit that riding had been a mistake. She clung to the back of the horse that had been saddled for her, one hand holding onto the reins and the other helplessly grasping onto the edge of the saddle.
For all that most well-born ladies spent at least some of their time on a horse, Lacey had really only been on horseback a handful of times. She'd always favored more bookish pursuits, and for the first time, she regretted it.
The only reason she had broken her lifelong rule of traveling everywhere on foot or by carriage was that breakfast had been unbearable. Her mother was still regarding Robert as if he might transform into a snake at any moment, and Davis couldn't seem to stop himself from vainly trying to get her attention with poetry or literature references. When Robert had suggested a ride, she had jumped at the chance.
“Just to the edge of the property, mind,” Constance had said, a warning in her voice. “Heaven only knows what would be said if they caught you riding with a strange gentleman on the main roads.”
“They'd say 'lucky gentleman,'” Robert supplied cheerfully.
Lacey coughed on her bite of toast.
Constance glared, and Davis looked as if his heart was breaking, but it didn't matter, because now they were out under the bright blue summer sky. Everything would be amazing if she could just get over her fear of dashing her brains out on the ground.
Robert pulled his mount up next to her, slowing from a canter to match her tolerant horse's walk. “Is everything all right, Lacey?”
“Do you mean with the plan, or do you mean, for example, in the grand scheme of things?”
“Er, I meant with your horse. You look a little pale.”
Lacey was mounted sidesaddle, using the popular two-horned riding saddle that was these days considered a requirement for riding by young ladies of quality. One knee tucked under the bottom curved horn that jutted from the side of the saddle while the other knee looped over the top, and no matter how tightly she squeezed her legs, she never felt as safe on her horse as she thought she was supposed to.
“I'm fine, just ever so slightly terrified.”
“And here I thought you were meant to be a brawling country lass who could ride horses and wrestle pigs.”
“At least if I were wrestling pigs, I would be closer to the ground. And please. Do you think I could be that good at chess without spending so much time indoors reading and researching?”
“That made more sense when you were an old woman. But are you all right? You're moving at a snail's pace and you do look a little ill.”
“I'm as fine as I can be, and far finer than I would be if we returned to the house. Shall we keep going? There's a stream that cuts across the edge of the property ahead.”
No matter how sore she was getting from being on the saddle, Lacey dreaded the idea of returning to the house more. Still, she felt a certain kind of relief when they came to the small stream she had mentioned, protected from the greater world by a small but thick stand of poplar trees.
When Lacey went to dismount, however, she found that her legs had grown ridiculously stiff after the time she had spent riding. She groaned when she untwisted her leg from the saddle and sat with both her legs dangling over her horse's side.
“Do you need some help?” he asked,
a teasing note in his voice.
She nearly told him no, but then common sense won out over pride.
“I would very much like that,” she said with all the dignity she could muster.
After tethering his own mount, he came to stand next to hers.
“Hand me the reins, and just slide off the saddle. I won't let you fall, I promise.”
She did as he said, and with a deep breath, she slid right off the saddle and into his arms. They stood there for a long moment, feeling the warmth from each other's bodies, utterly still. Lacey was certain she could hear her heart beat a fast rhythm in her chest.
With a short laugh, Robert stepped away.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—”
He cursed when she pitched forward with a cry, and she would have taken a very nasty fall indeed if he hadn't stepped forward again to catch her.
“Dear God, what happened to you?”
“I can't help it if I'm not an athlete! The ride took a lot out of me.”
She hung on to him until her muscles had warmed up enough to allow her to walk, even if she had to take small steps. Robert went to tether her mount next to his own, and Lacey made her way to the mossy bank with small and tentative steps. It took some doing, but she finally managed to lower herself to a sitting position on the bank with a sigh of relief.
“You are just a mess, aren't you?”
She turned her head to see Robert settling down next to her. It occurred to her again how very handsome he was, how he looked nothing like what she expected him to.
“Maybe. But I am not your mess, so I suppose you can cope.”
She had meant it in a joking way, but there was a quality to Robert's stillness that made her look up. Whatever she had sensed, however, if anything, he covered up quickly with a smile.
“No, I suppose you are not. A man taking you as his own would also be liable for the care of your broken cats, too. One of them found their way into my bedroom this morning and woke me up by climbing on my chest and purring fit to wake the devil.”
“My cats would be a credit to whatever household is lucky enough to have them. Which one was it?”
“The one that leaked a bucket of drool on my bedclothes before I noticed?”
“Oh, that's the biggest Nod. That makes sense; he always greets the guests like that.”
“Well, that's utterly charming.”
“You needn't be so critical, my lord. He can only show affection in the ways that he knows how.”
“Robert.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Not my lord. Robert. If we're going to pretend to be together, that seems natural, yes?”
Lacey bit her lip. She didn't know why it felt so intimate calling Robert by his first name. Calling him 'my lord' kept a barrier between them, but he was right. It didn't feel very romantic.
“All right. Robert then. I suppose we should take advantage of the solitude to figure out a few other things about our romance.”
Robert lifted a sardonic eyebrow at her. “I already know about your quilt collection and your identical cats with the same name. That already feels more intimate than most of the London couples I know.”
“Well, that's unfortunate. I just think that if we're going to be affianced, even if it is a fib, we should know more about each other.”
Robert rolled his eyes at her, but he nodded. “Go ahead. Ask me what you want, and I'll do the same.”
“All right. What's your favorite color?”
It was the first thing that had popped into her mind, but from the look Robert gave her, she could tell he was unimpressed.
“I'm a grown adult with no favorite color to speak of. Is that the depth of our relationship?”
“All right, fine. Who do you trust most in the world?”
He stared at her, and it struck her all at once how very personal that question was. She blushed a little, realizing that even if it was true, she didn't want to hear about past lovers or other people who might have been important to him.
“Never mind, that was silly.”
“No, it's a good question.”
It was so good that Robert sat in deep thought for several minutes. As he did so, he rubbed her hand gently, making the skin tingle a little. When he stopped, she was instantly sorry he did and then wondered why she was so sorry.
The Marquess' Angel_Hart and Arrow_A Regency Romance Book Page 24