CHAPTER
SEVEN
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“Miss Lacey, please hang on to the post a little more tightly. You are bouncing around like a jackrabbit!”
“Well, I cannot help it if you are pulling me about like a doll!”
Lacey had only been getting dressed for the last hour or so, but it felt like an eternity. The worst part was that they were doing it in her bedroom, where there was a stack of interesting correspondence waiting for her. Her eyes kept straying to it wistfully as the girls first scrubbed her from head to toe and then set themselves with a nearly savage energy against her skin and her hair.
Tell the truth and shame the devil, though, the most interesting thing I usually wait for in the mail is here with me.
She would be lying to herself if she tried to deny how much she had looked forward to Robert's missives. He'd always been her favorite correspondent, even when she thought he was an older man with a good sense of humor. Then he had appeared like a knight from a fairy tale to rescue her from Davis’ ridiculous attentions, and everything had changed.
She hadn't expected to ever meet Robert, and she hadn't expected to find him so very handsome when she did. And then, of course, she had never in a million years thought she would involve him in a scheme like this one. That he had gone along with it told her that he was a man of superior character as well as good looks, and every day that went by, it felt as if a knife twisted a little more firmly in her heart.
Recently, Lacey had felt as if she were walking a very narrow path with a precipice on either side. On one side, things continued as they were, tense and strange and, sometimes, incandescently wonderful. On the other side, she got what she ostensibly wanted. Davis left in defeat, never to darken her door with his ridiculous compliments or poetry again, and then there would be absolutely no reason for Robert to stay with her at all.
When Davis left, Robert would, too, probably with a tip of his hat and a shake of his head, marveling at the complexities of life in the country. Perhaps they would go back to writing to each other, starting up another chess match as they had so often in the past. She would ask about London, and she would tell him about the slow rhythm of the country, the small things that kept her occupied and that filled her dreams.
Would he think of her often? No, she decided, he likely wouldn't think of her at all, beyond to chuckle a little about what he had done one holiday in the country.
The thought made her heart feel as if someone had taken it in both hands and wrung it hard, but what in the world could she do about it? Sometimes, Lacey wished that she had never made this desperate ploy for freedom from Davis. Then she remembered Robert's lips on hers, his touch, his smile, and she knew that no matter what came after, she would never regret this. She couldn't.
The maids finally declared themselves done, and they led her to the tall mirror in the corner. They didn't get many chances to dress her for an event, and they had gone all out. The dress she wore was of thin lavender silk, as fragile as a daydream and shimmering like a distant star. The spencer they'd chosen to go over it was a deeper violet, nearly a perfect match with her eyes, and trimming the edges of the gown and the hem of the spencer were tiny delicate ribbon roses. It rather cunningly created the effect of a spring garden, and despite her low spirits, Lacey smiled a little to see it. Her hair was piled up in the Grecian style, with two pretty ringlets hanging over her ears, and as long as she kept her mouth shut, she would do quite well.
“Thank you both so very much. You did a wonderful job.”
When she glanced at the clock, she decided that she might still have a quarter of an hour to read in the library. Her mother would likely use up every spare moment to dress herself to her exacting standards, and there was no reason to stand around looking lovely for no one at all in her room.
Lacey had scarcely left her room when she saw Robert approaching with a grin on his face. He was dressed in her father's formal wear, but that association faded as she realized how very handsome he looked. The jacket had been altered to fit his athletic form like a glove, and the stark black of the jacket and the blazing white of the shirt underneath gave him a rather sterner air than he usually sported. However, there was a wide grin on his face when he approached her, and Lacey felt herself smiling in return.
“I'm not sure it's entirely appropriate for you to come into the family wing, my lord.”
“It's Robert, and we're engaged. I feel like I have certain privileges to take advantage of.”
Her blood stirred a little when he mentioned taking advantage, and she could feel her cheeks color a little. “Really?”
“Really. Here. Something to get us off on the right foot for the evening.”
She blinked as he offered her a flat wooden box. It was heavy in her hands, and she looked up at him uncertainly.
“For me?”
“Of course, for you.”
A beat passed.
“It's appropriate to open gifts when you receive them, Lacey.”
“Oh! I'm sorry. I've been dressing for what feels like hours, and my mind has only just caught up with me.”
She felt a strange sort of trepidation as she opened the box, and when she realized what was inside, she gasped.
A set of earrings and a necklace glinted in the soft light of the hallway. At the center of the necklace was a sapphire the size of her thumbnail, gleaming in a frame of diamonds. Two smaller sapphires served for the earrings, and the color, a deep oceanic blue, was perfectly matched, each to each. The set was stunning in its beauty, and Lacey felt a sinking deep in her heart.
“Robert, what are these for?”
“I assumed that when I handed you a box and told you to open it that you would understand that it was a gift. If you think I was just taunting you, I should probably take the time to be nicer overall.”
She looked up into his face, and he was so handsome that she could barely stand it. Inside her heart, something dark and greedy rose up, wanting this in truth and not just as a game. Robert seemed to be enjoying the game aspect of it, treating the country girl like a London heiress.
She backed away from him, the jewelry box still in her hand.
“You can't be serious. This is too much. I certainly can't accept it.”
“Of course, you can. I had it sent from London especially for you. It's a good gift, don't you think, for a girl from her betrothed?”
“But we're—”
The secret nearly spilled out of her in a shout, and Lacey forced herself to take a deep breath.
“I can't accept this.”
“Of course, you can. The jeweler told me that all of London is mad for sapphires this season, and I don't see why Westchester would be any different.”
“No, you don't understand. This is a precious gift. You shouldn't just be... be handing it out as if it were candy?”
Robert shrugged. “Why not? It will look beautiful on you.”
Finally, Lacey thought she understood. She was well-off, and when her mother died, she would be titled. However, that was nothing compared to the wealth that Robert commanded. She looked down at the jewelry in her hands, something so precious and rare. To Robert, he might as well have bought her candy, and now he couldn't understand why she was making such a fuss.
“Robert...”
“Take them.” He sounded monumentally indifferent. “They'll suit you, and if you don't care for them, I'll do better next time. It's all one to me.”
Lacey felt a pang in her chest at how little he cared, how a gift that would have been a courtship gesture from another man was only a joke to him. She wanted to throw the box at him, but that wasn't fair of her, was it? She was the one who had come up with this damned plan, and he was simply a part of it, doing his job and doing it well.
“It's lovely,” she said woodenly. “Please, will you help me put it on?”
“Of course.”
Carefully, Robert helped her thread the earrin
gs into her ears, and then he took out the necklace.
“Turn around, please.”
Lacey wondered if she heard something strange in his tone, at once tender and wistful Then she felt the chill of the necklace around her throat, making her gasp and forget all about foolish dreams. Robert fastened the necklace with a deft touch, but when she went to turn around, he wrapped his arms around her instead, his lips nuzzling her neck from behind.
“Are you well?”
“Quite well, my lord.”
He chuckled, and there was a slightly sad sound to it. “Will you never stop calling me that?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she shouldn't, not when their arrangement was so very temporary. Instead, she whispered his name, and he pulled her closer to his body.
“God, you have no idea how very sweet you are, do you? You are just pure loveliness.”
He brushed his lips across the tender skin of her nape, making her sigh with pleasure. She had never realized how very good it would feel just to be so close with a man, to feel his strong arms around her body, and to feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back.
God, say something. Say something or you will lose your mind and start to think that this is real.
When she finally found her voice, there was something tremulous about it, but she took care to keep her tone happy and bright. “We do make a very good semblance of a betrothed couple, do we not, my lord?”
For a moment, Robert was so still she thought he hadn’t heard her. Then he stepped back from her, letting her turn around. He was smiling, but there was a chill in his eyes that made her shiver. She wanted to take it back and to tell him exactly what was in her heart, but then he spoke and her words died on her lips.
“We most certainly do, Miss Lacey. Shall I escort you down to the foyer where we can await your mother?”
Lacey was momentarily shocked. She had never heard Robert speak so formally, and she knew he had never spoken so very formally to her.
“I. Well. Yes, please.”
He offered her his arm with all due courtesy, and she took it with a certain amount of caution. She told herself she was just being foolish. There was no reason to feel as if she had lost something.
None at all.
* * *
8
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CHAPTER
EIGHT
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Robert hadn't expected Lacey's rejection to sting quite so badly. He had been rejected before, by both noblewomen and inn girls, and he'd never let it worry him for more than a moment. When Lacey turned back to him with that bright smile and told him what a very convincing false couple they made, however, that all changed.
He'd immediately felt cold, and then a raging tide of anger had spilled over him. He wanted to shake her, to make her see what was truly between them, what could be between them if she only opened her damned eyes.
In a flash, though, he realized that was the worst thing he could have done. It would have made him no better than Davis, and while he could accept many things from Lacey, he wasn't sure he could accept her pity or her contempt.
It'll be fine. I have time. As long as Davis is here making an ass of himself, I have a reason to stay at Baling House. I can talk with Lacey. I can convince her that we might have something wonderful together.
Constance Welton appeared in the foyer, tastefully dressed in blue silk trimmed in cream, and she looked around with a slight frown.
“I had thought Lord Exter would be here ahead of me.”
“I am sorry, Lady Baling. I seem doomed to disappoint.”
Robert turned toward the voice on the stair and raised his eyebrows. Davis looked a fright, hair stuck up as if he'd been running his fingers through it, and he was in his shirtsleeves, certainly not dressed for a ball.
Constance frowned. “You have not been a disappointment, Lord Exter.”
“Ah, but I have. I have pressed my suit when it was not wanted, and I have made a pest of myself.”
Oh, no. Really? Now?
Davis came down the stairs and offered Robert a short bow. “I spoke with Lord Dellfield last night, and he helped me see the light. I need to leave. Tonight.”
He shook his head, forestalling any protest. “The ball seems to have been a godsend. I will pack my things and depart with no need for a long or irritating farewell. Thank you very much for your courtesy, Lady Baling. Miss Welton. Lord Dellfield.”
He turned before any of them could say anything, striding back up the stairs with the gait of a determined man.
Constance frowned after him, shaking her head. “Well, that was a surprise. I suppose there is no arguing with him. Lacey, for goodness' sake, don't look so upset. You were practically driving the man from the door this entire time.”
Even as he took her arm and led her to the waiting carriage, Robert couldn't help but notice Lacey's shocked expression. Surely, she hadn't developed some feelings for Davis? The thought made him want to growl, but instead, he handed her and her mother into the carriage like a gentleman should before joining them.
The ride to the Winsteads was quiet, every person in the carriage deep in thought. Robert, who had never really had a mind for military matters, was going over his options, coming up with desperate plan after desperate plan to stay at Baling House after Davis departed, but time and again, he kept coming up short. There seemed to be nothing that would allow him to stay next to Lacey without being tantamount to begging her to keep him, and that, Robert's pride would not allow him to do.
When they alighted from the carriage at the Winsteads' manor a short time later, Robert still didn't know what to do. He helped first Constance down from the carriage, and then Lacey, but as she descended the last step, Lacey stumbled, as far as he could tell, over nothing.
“Oof, Mother, could you go ahead? I just need to retie my slipper. My lord, if you would stay for a moment and lend me your arm?”
Constance gave them both a suspicious look, but since they were engaged, there was nothing much to be said about it. She swept up to the lit house before them, leaving Robert and Lacey alone on the now empty drive, as the carriage driver guided the horses away.
“I take it your slipper doesn't need to be tied.”
“They don't even have laces. I just wanted to...”
She trailed off, looking down.
“For God's sake, Lacey, don't beat around the bush.” Robert’s nerves were frayed and he spoke more harshly than he’d intended.
She straightened as if he had jammed a steel rod down her back, raising her eyes to meet his. Even in the dim light from the lamp posts, her violet eyes shone. A man could drown in them if he was unwary.
“I wanted to say thank you. For everything you've done for me. I know that it didn't come without a cost, and that I have likely delayed you from many things that you wanted to do.”
Robert did his best not to flinch. “Perfectly my pleasure, I am sure.”
“And, of course, now that Davis is leaving, I will no longer trouble you for your services as my fiancé. Truly, Robert, I have been a pest and a bother, but I know that—”
“I should think you ought to go back to calling me by my title, don't you think?”
The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. They were spoken hastily out of a desperate need to hurt her, to make sure that she was as hurt as he was by what was happening. A part of him shouted at him to stop this, to simply pull her into the darkness and talk with her until they figured out exactly what it was between them. What happened when there were no rules, no strictures, no silly game that would keep them apart and together at the same time?
Robert was proud, however, and the words would not come. Lacey looked at him for a long time, and he couldn't say what she was thinking.
My God, she should have played cards and not chess. S
he could make a killing at the tables.
At last, as if she had come to some kind of inward understanding, she nodded.
“You are very right, Lord Dellfield. I am grateful for your aid over the last little while, and I hope that if I can ever do you any service that you let me know at once.”
She dropped into a perfect curtsy, her eyes lowered and as perfect a demure young lady as might be hoped for. Robert had to close his eyes against the urge to shake her because he knew that wasn't her. Automatically, he offered her his arm, and with a calm grace that he admired even as it infuriated him, he led her into the ball.
* * *
Three hours later, Robert wanted nothing more than to climb out the window, find a horse, and ride it all the way to London, where things made sense. The Winsteads put on an excellent ball, with fine musicians and plenty of punch to keep the proceedings merry, but Robert felt a dark tide of depression tugging at his elbow no matter how good the company.
He had been relieved when Constance had claimed her daughter, saying it had been ages since she was properly out in company. He had decided then and there to make himself scarce for at least a little while, but unfortunately, as the new man in the area, he was a figure of constant fascination.
Robert had been attending balls and galas since he was a teenager. He could smile, laugh, and make polite conversation while keeping his own thoughts private. About an hour into that, however, and he didn't even know why he bothered.
Well, as far as I am concerned, I am a free agent. I may do as I like, speak to who I like, and enjoy myself, same as everyone else present.
If Robert were honest, the punch might have had something to do with his decision. The rum in it was sweet and strong, and it wasn't long before he realized how utterly delightful the women of Westchester really were. He chatted with one girl and then another, promised a third and a fourth a dance, and was just looking into getting more punch when he saw a familiar face in the crowd.
The Marquess' Angel_Hart and Arrow_A Regency Romance Book Page 26