by Laura Landon
“You’re excited about the party, aren’t you?” Lilly asked fussing with her gloves. “I mean, you don’t hate the idea, do you?”
“Of course I don’t. I know how important this is to Harrison and the boys. And to both of you, too.”
“Perhaps in the future we can convince you to come to London with us.” Lilly’s tone was hopeful. “We’d all be with you. We’d make sure you had a wonderful time.”
The short, uncomfortable silence that engulfed the room indicated Lilly had entered forbidden territory.
“We’ll see,” Elly said as if she were considering the possibility of going.
A knot tightened in her stomach, the uncomfortable memories gnawing at her insides.
They didn’t understand. The twins had been too young to remember what it had been like for her.
“There are some very handsome gentlemen among the friends the boys invited,” Patience said with a glimmer in her eyes.
“I know.” Elly answered before she could stop her words from escaping.
Both her sisters gaped at her, their dainty eyebrows arched high. “You do?”
Elly hoped her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Actually, I met one of our guests when I was riding.”
“Which one?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t get his name.”
“He didn’t introduce himself?” Patience asked.
“No. I don’t think he considered I might be a relation. I wasn’t dressed as I’m sure he thought one of the Duke of Sheridan’s offspring would be attired when out of the house.”
“What did he look like?” Lilly asked.
Elly’s cheeks turned a degree warmer. “Oh, I can’t honestly say.” She tried to pretend the laughter in his midnight-blue eyes hadn’t haunted her since he’d ridden away from her. Or that she hadn’t studied every item of furniture in her bedroom trying to find just the right piece to match his dark, sable-brown hair. Or that she could stop the strange swirling in her chest every time she remembered the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes or the deep creases on either side of his mouth when he smiled. And oh, how easily he’d smiled.
“Was he tall?” Lilly asked.
“I don’t know. But he was riding the most magnificent Arabian I’ve ever seen. He must have nearly as fine a stable as Harrison.”
“Leave it to you to notice the horse instead of the rider,” Lilly said on a laugh, but she was the only sister who found any humor in Elly’s answer. The serious expression on Patience’s face gave Elly pause.
“What?”
“I think you made the acquaintance of the Earl of Charfield,” Patience said. Her hushed tone contained more than a hint of both awe and warning.
“Charfield?” Elly said, trying to remember if she knew the name. She wasn’t sure. “Which one of our brothers invited him?”
“Harrison. But I really wish he hadn’t.”
“What do you mean by that?” Elly’s sisters shared a glance she couldn’t interpret. “Is there something wrong with Charfield’s character?”
“Not his character...exactly,” Patience started to explain.
“We really should warn her,” Lilly said, making eye contact with Patience.
“Warn me about what?”
“About Lord Charfield,” Patience added. “He’s a...a...a rake!”
“Oh,” Elly laughed. “Is that all?”
“Is that all!” both sisters squeaked at the same time.
“You have no idea the hearts he’s broken,” Patience started.
“Or the scandals in which he’s been involved,” Lilly added.
“Is he shunned by Society?” Elly suddenly wanted to know.
“Shunned?” Patience said in a mocking tone.
“Shunned?” Lilly echoed in the same tone. “Not only is he not shunned, but every matchmaking mama is doing everything in her power to trap Charfield into marrying her daughter.”
“If he’s such a horrible choice, why is everyone trying to push their daughter off onto him?”
“Because he’s one of the richest, most eligible men in London, of course.”
“Yes,” Lilly added, “and one of the luckiest. None of the gentlemen at his clubs stand a chance of winning if he’s at the table.”
“Does he cheat?”
“Of course not,” Patience said. “Someone would have called him out by now if he did. He just never loses!”
“Oh, how inconsiderate,” Elly said, desperately trying to hide her laughter.
Patience propped her fists on her hips in obvious frustration. “There’s not a social affair held where his name isn’t at the top of the guest list. Even Lady Pomeroy, who only invites a select few to her annual ball, is rumored to have changed the scheduled date because Lord Charfield was unable to make her first choice.”
“Well, if Lady Pomeroy went to such lengths to include him I can hardly see why the two of you are concerned that he’s attending our small country party.”
Lilly wrung her dainty hands. “We just don’t want you to be hurt.”
“Hurt? I don’t see how I can be hurt.”
Patience stepped closer. “He’s broken countless hearts, Elly. It’s rumored that once he turns on his charm, women fall at his feet.”
Elly laughed. “Are you afraid I’m going to make a fool of myself over someone who will probably not even notice that I’m there?”
“Of course not,” Patience said. “It’s just that you haven’t had all that much experience with men.”
“I see,” Elly said, trying not to show her emotions.
“I mean,” Patience continued, using her words as a shovel to dig a hole even deeper, “we know you’re far too sensible to lose your heart to such a scoundrel.”
“Thank you for that.” Elly placed her hand over her heart. She tried to pretend she agreed with them even though she wasn’t sure the twins were complimenting her. “I’m glad you have such confidence in me.”
“We do,” Lillian said. “We both know that when you fall in love it will be to someone with a stellar reputation.”
Elly laughed. “Can you see that in your crystal ball?”
Lillian giggled. “Of course. It’s perfectly clear.”
“And Harrison? What do you see in his future?”
Sad expressions covered their faces.
“You know Harrison will never risk falling in love again,” Lilly said. “Not after he was hurt so badly before.”
“I doubt he’ll ever marry,” Patience added. “It’s been nearly five years and he’s never once shown interest in another woman.”
“It’s not Harrison we’re concerned for,” Lilly said. “It’s you.”
Elly smiled. “Well, don’t be. You have nothing to worry about. You forget. I’ve already met the man of my dreams. I’m sure Lord Charfield can’t hold a candle to my secret admirer.”
Patience and Lilly’s faces paled.
“But you’ve never met the man you’ve corresponded with,” Patience said. “Perhaps he’s exactly like Lord Charfield. Or worse.”
Elly laughed. “Don’t concern yourselves. Lord Charfield won’t give me a second glance.”
Lilly flapped her arms in the air in a graceful sign of frustration. “Don’t be so confident, Elly. No one is safe from his charms. Not even you.”
The temperature of the air in the room dropped and Elly struggled to keep the smile on her face from faltering.
After an uncomfortable silence, Lilly stepped closer and put her arm around Elly’s shoulder. “Oh, Elly. I didn’t mean that like it sounded.” Her rosy cheeks turned a blazing scarlet.
“Of course you didn’t. And I didn’t take it that way.”
Elly put on a brave face and gave her hair a final pat. She knew the twins had nothing to worry about. Charfield wouldn’t pay her a moment’s attention once he saw her make her way across a room.
“Have you come to escort me down?” Elly asked, scooting to the edge of her chair.
&nb
sp; Both sisters moved closer to assist her, Patience on her left and Lilly on her right.
Elly slowly stood then steadied herself before taking the cane Patience held out to her. With an uneven gait, she walked across the room. Her limp was pronounced and forced her hip to swing to the left. Her left arm had a tendency to move outward, making her appear clumsy.
She hated how her body shifted unnaturally with each step, how even her shoulder dipped, but at least most of those present at the party were familiar with her awkwardness. Her inelegance wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for them to be around. At least for one night.
She stepped out the door and hobbled down the steps.
Tonight would be the worst. After he saw her and...knew, she could go back to being an invisible part of the gathering. It was only two weeks, after all. Surely she could survive that.
And there was one positive aspect to Harrison’s party. Even though she wouldn’t be the female on whom the very handsome Earl of Charfield chose to shower his attention, she’d at least be able to look at him and...dream.
Chapter 4
Brent gave his shirt sleeves a firm tug beneath his black evening jacket, then left his guest room to make his way to the drawing room where everyone would meet to socialize before dinner was served. His part in this two-week play was about to begin. And if there was anything Brent knew how to do, it was play a part.
In fact, he’d played the role of the rake and carefree rogue so long he wasn’t sure he knew the real Brentan Montgomery, Earl of Charfield, any longer.
Even though no one in Society would ever believe it, his dream had always been to settle down with a woman he loved and raise a houseful of happy children. But after years of unsuccessful searching, he’d given up all hope of finding any such woman. And he refused to marry a woman he didn’t love and be miserable for the rest of his life.
Oh, his name was still at the top of every matchmaking mama’s list, and he was considered one of the most sought-after bachelors in London. But when not one of the hoards of beautiful young ladies he’d met over the years roused even a hint of desire, he’d turned his attention to adding to his stable of Arabians instead of finding someone with whom he could be happy.
His role at Fellingsdown’s party was just another part he had to play to add another treasure to his collection. And for such a magnificent prize, Brent was willing to endure anything. It was only two weeks, after all. He’d survived years of courting the dullest, most dim-witted females Society had to offer. Fellingsdown’s sister couldn’t be any worse.
Could she?
He bolstered his resolve and stepped confidently down the right side of the winding double staircase with a long-perfected smile on his face. Even if she were the most hideous creature imaginable, the prize at the end of two weeks was worth any amount of boredom he’d have to endure. He couldn’t wait until next spring for Danza to present him a colt sired by the magnificent El Solidar.
His smile broadened and he stepped down the stairs with a jaunty air. The closer he got to the bottom, the louder the laughter and the buzz of conversation grew. By the time he reached the drawing room door, he was prepared to play his part.
Armed with the ease for which he was known, he stepped inside the room and looked around. There was laughter and conversation aplenty and Brent felt a momentary sense of relief that the two-week party hosted by Fellingsdown seemed to be on its way to becoming a pleasant affair.
He stepped into the room and to the side, thankful no one noticed his arrival. His obscurity would give him an opportunity to observe the guests and hopefully spot the woman he’d been hired to entertain for the next fourteen days. She would no doubt be easy to find.
From the number already gathered, he assumed most of the guests had already arrived. But he didn’t see a female so lacking in physical attributes that Fellingsdown had to bribe someone to escort her.
He stepped further inside and scanned the perimeter of the room a second time. Fellingsdown stood by an open window with his brother George. There were two very striking women in their small circle that he recognized from several of the balls he’d attended. Neither was the sister he’d been hired to accompany.
Fellingsdown’s other brothers, Jules and Spencer, stood on the opposite side of the room talking to another group. One of Fellingsdown’s twin sisters, Lady Parkridge, he assumed, moved from one small cluster of guests to the next, but no one she stopped to talk with looked like he imagined Fellingsdown’s on-the-shelf sister would.
Brent reached out to take a glass of brandy a footman held out to him and lifted the glass. His arm stopped midway to his mouth and his breath caught in his throat.
The magnificent rider he’d met as he’d arrived sat on a velvet sofa in the center of the room looking as elegantly regal as if she were holding court. A younger woman sat beside her, the Countess of Berkingham, he thought. But how could one be sure when one twin looked so much like the other? It didn’t matter. The dark-haired beauty was the one from whom he couldn’t take his gaze.
Her rich auburn hair was pulled loosely from her face in a seductively becoming style and fastened with tiny pearl pins. Delicate wisps framed the perfectly shaped face he remembered from this afternoon. She wore an inviting smile as if that expression was a part of her.
Her gown was of dark scarlet, the bodice revealing enough to hint at the perfection hidden beneath. He couldn’t imagine a shade that would compliment her coloring more perfectly or a style that flattered her more.
This afternoon she’d been beguiling and beautiful. Tonight she was breathtaking.
He stared at her for another long moment but wasn’t content just watching her. He had to talk to her. For a few minutes before he began his charade of pretending to be enamored of Fellingsdown’s ugly sister, he had to spend just a few glorious seconds in her company.
He took a sip of Fellingsdown’s excellent brandy and noticed Lady Berkingham rise to greet two new guests who’d entered the room. Before anyone could occupy the empty seat beside her, he moved toward the sofa as if a magnet pulled him in that direction.
“Good evening, my fearless horsewoman,” he said when he reached her.
She hadn’t been looking in his direction. When he spoke she snapped her head toward him and looked up.
Time ceased to move forward. A warm blanket settled inside his chest.
Her eyes opened wide and sparkled with recognition. At the same time the corners of her mouth tipped upward in a slight smile, then broadened to a wide, welcoming grin.
“Oh, it’s you.” Her voice was as deep and rich as he remembered from earlier.
His heart took another tumble in his chest.
“May I?” He pointed to the chair beside her.
“Of course. Please, sit down.”
Brent lowered himself to the chair opposite her. “Have you recovered from your excitement this afternoon?”
She gave a sideways glance in both directions then leaned forward. “I can’t ever remember enjoying myself so.”
Brent laughed. “Neither can I.”
“I’m afraid, however, most of the people in this room would be shocked at our behavior.”
“Including our host?”
She smiled broader. “Oh, especially our host.”
Suddenly, Brent remembered the purpose for this party. Was it possible that this elegant creature was the Marquess of Fellingsdown’s special guest? She was, after all, the most fascinating woman Brent had ever met. The thought that she was linked to Fellingsdown disturbed him more than he cared to admit.
“Does our host’s opinion matter to you?”
The exquisite beauty’s gaze traveled to where Fellingsdown stood among a circle of a half-dozen males and females.
“Of course,” she answered and the warmth Brent heard in her voice sent an uncomfortable niggling he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t jealousy. Of course it wasn’t jealousy. He hadn’t known her long enough to have formed any feelings for her.
> But when she looked back at him, the blood in his veins heated several degrees.
“So, unless you intend to tell him about our adventure,” she said with a gleam in her eyes, “I can almost guarantee he’ll never find out.”
Brent laughed again. Only this time the laughter came from deeper inside him. A place that hadn’t felt any laughter in a long time. “You really are a little minx.”
“Oh, I assure you I’m not.”
She batted her long, dark lashes, and donned the most innocent expression he’d ever seen.
“But...” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “If you feel inclined to accept another invitation, I happen to know another jump that is not nearly as...elementary as the one we took this afternoon.”
“Are you issuing another challenge?”
She leaned back and studied him with an appraising eye. “You look like a man who is always ready to accept a dare.”
“And you, my minx, look like a woman who enjoys issuing a challenge.”
She laughed. “Oh, I am.”
“Then I accept.”
“Good. Tomorrow, perhaps?”
Brent nodded. “Will you be racing the same horse?”
Her delicate brows lifted. “Regalia? Of course. It would hardly be fair, otherwise.”
Brent took two glasses from the tray a footman held out to him and handed her one.
She took it with a smile and a word of thanks, then held it to her lips and took a sip.
The knot in the pit of his stomach dropped even lower and he wondered what it would be like to feel those lips against his own.
“Are you sure Fellingsdown won’t mind you riding his Arabians?”
“No, he won’t mind. He’s given me permission to ride any horse I choose.”
“You and the marquess must be on very good terms. I can’t imagine him permitting just anyone to ride one of his magnificent Arabians.”
“Oh, we are. On very good terms. And he trusts me to take excellent care of them. I love and appreciate them as much as he does.”
Another disturbing wave rushed through him and this time he could no longer avoid putting a name to it. He was jealous of Fellingsdown.