by Alice Gaines
When the captain cleared his throat, the gentlemen all rose, the disheveled one getting to his feet abruptly enough that he almost overturned a nearby table. The man he’d been speaking to took the opportunity to step away.
Introductions came and went in a blur of misters and misses and lords and ladies. The one who stuck out was the unusual fellow, Viscount Hadleigh, the captain’s brother. Obviously an older brother because he claimed the title.
“Yes, yes, this lady will do quite nicely,” he declared as he approached her, his arms outstretched. “You’ve just come in from outdoors where the air’s cooler, what?”
“Why, yes, I have,” she said, leaning away from his hands.
“Nothing to worry about. I don’t need to actually touch you.”
“Thomas,” the captain said softly.
“Only take a minute.” The man scuffed his shoes back and forth on the carpet a few times and then stuck a finger toward her hair. A shock jumped from him, crackling between them.
“There, you see?” he proclaimed. “The cold air’s the trick. It wouldn’t work as well as with . . . say, you, Jason.”
Before Bess could explain that she’d spent some time in the hallway and had lost any chill she might have brought into the house, Captain Northcross intervened and caught his brother’s arms. The whole family had a penchant for grabbing people, it seemed.
“You’ve made your point, dear brother,” he said. “No more demonstration needed.”
A look of concern crossed Lord Hadleigh’s face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I, madam?”
“Of course not.”
“Splendid. Then do come and sit by me,” the viscount said, indicating the seat the less adventurous man had just vacated.
Captain Northcross gave her an entreating glance. By now, the others had all averted their gazes, and a few of the young girls were tittering behind their fingers. The usual polite scorn.
She straightened to her full height. “I’d be very happy to sit with you, Lord Hadleigh.”
He led her to the settee and waited until she’d sat to take his own seat next to her. A lovely woman sitting in a chair on the other side of him smiled at both of them. Her belly was slightly rounded with child, and the softness in her eyes when she looked at the viscount suggested she was his wife.
“You’ve met my dear Grace, I take it,” he said.
“Not before now,” she answered.
“A pleasure, Lady Rushford.”
“The pleasure’s mine, Lady Hadleigh.” At least she could be truthful about that.
“All that’s settled, then,” Lord Hadleigh said. “So, Lady Rushford, you understand electricity, I take it.”
“Not a bit.”
“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” the captain said. “Perhaps Lady Rushford could tell us about local sights we should visit, pleasant outings, that sort of thing.”
“There’s an ancient circle of stones on your property,” she said. “Have you seen it?”
“Oh, my. Druids and the like,” one of the women said. “They could bewitch us all.”
“I don’t know that Druids and witches are the same thing,” Bess said.
“Whether they are or not, we could all picnic there and make up fantastical stories of goblins and spells,” the woman said.
“Oh, mummy, could we?” one of the young girls burbled. She turned and gazed shyly at the captain. “Captain Northcross, let’s please do.”
“If you’d enjoy that, Miss Swan, we shall.” He smiled at the girl, but Bess saw something in his eyes that suggested hesitation. He wasn’t enjoying himself as much as he let on.
For heaven’s sake, why should she think such things? She didn’t know the man. How could she tell whether he was having fun or not? She’d probably attributed her own unease to him. Sitting rooms full of polite strangers weren’t her normal fare, thank heaven.
“It’ll be a wonderful outing,” Lady Deauville said. “Harriett has taken an interest in antiquities. Haven’t you, dear?”
A lovely slip of a girl sitting next to Lady Deauville brightened. She had the same honey-colored hair and amber eyes. No doubt her daughter.
“Oh, yes. Ancient things are fascinating,” she said. “Don’t you agree, Captain Northcross?”
“Fascinating,” he repeated.
Aha. She should have seen this for what it was immediately. A marriage market, with Captain Northcross the prize. Of course, a wealthy young man from a noble family needed a wife. And mothers had brought their eligible daughters to compete for him. And most of them had also brought their husbands. Lady Deauville’s was very pointedly absent.
“Would you be willing to serve as our guide, Lady Rushford?” Captain Northcross said. “Perhaps tomorrow. A picnic at the circle of stones.”
What a prospect. Spending the day with this assembly of the haute ton. And now they were all staring at her, and if she couldn’t think of some excuse—and quickly—she’d look positively boorish for not agreeing.
At that moment, another trio appeared. Two more young ladies and a tall fellow in the uniform of Captain Northcross’s regiment. One of the young ladies went directly to Captain Northcross and kissed his cheek. “We had the most wonderful walk down by the river. There’s a quay. We can all go boating.”
The gentlemen rose again, and Captain Northcross took the girl’s hand. “We have a new guest, pet.”
The girl glanced in Bess’s direction and put her fingers over her lips. “Pardon me. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Not at all,” Bess answered.
“Lady Rushford, this is my sister, Miss Lily Northcross,” Captain Northcross said. “Lady Rushford’s our neighbor.”
Miss Northcross curtseyed. She was a lovely thing, with her brother’s green eyes and an expression that suggested intelligence beyond that of the rest of the party.
“Miss Harper and Lieutenant Weston,” the captain said, concluding the introductions. By now, everyone had seated themselves except for the lieutenant, who bowed crisply and then found an open chair.
Oh, good. Another bout of small talk would follow. On top of that, she’d hardly find eligible men for Rose and Anna here. Aside from the captain and his friend, the rest of the male members of the party were married. This whole enterprise had accomplished nothing but to trap her into an outing with the lot of them when she could better use the time for other things, like working on the next novel or riding her horse. Picking aphids off her roses would be preferable.
Just as she was about to rise and make her excuses, an army of maids appeared, each bearing a tray. Tea had arrived, and she wouldn’t be able to leave for an hour or more. Perhaps the viscount could shock her a few more times to keep her awake.
*
Warmth bloomed in the vicinity of Jason’s heart every time he looked at his little sister. As he sat on the edge of her bed and watched her maid do up her hair for dinner, he let his mind drift to how she’d glow on her wedding day. She’d make a glorious duchess. He only needed to invite her young Will here to see what a beautiful woman she’d become, and they could have a dual wedding. Of course, first he’d have to settle on one of his young female guests. That could take a little more doing.
“Do you have everything you need, pet?” he asked.
She laughed. “Dear brother, is there anything you haven’t bought me?”
“This is your special time. I want you to enjoy it.”
“Let’s see. Before we left town, you had half-a-dozen dresses made. New shoes, bonnets. Everything I could possibly need.”
“That doesn’t mean you won’t want something else.”
“You found me Mary, and see what a wonderful job she does.”
The maid smiled, and a blush of excitement colored her cheeks. “Thank you, miss.”
Lily caught Mary’s hand in her own. “You truly are a gem.”
The maid’s face reddened further. “Not at all.”
“Yes, you are.” Lily turned toward him
. “May I keep her when we leave here?”
“Whatever your heart desires,” he answered.
“There. Would you like that, Mary? You could see London and go to Hadleigh with us.”
Mary curtseyed. “I’d like that very much.”
“That’s settled. Why not choose a dress for me?” Lily said.
The maid curtseyed again and moved to the wardrobe. After turning in her chair, Lily studied Jason for a moment. “Are you having fun?”
Fun? As lighthearted as the whole party appeared on the surface, it dealt with serious matters. His sister’s marriage would determine her future happiness. And his marriage would assure that she made a good match.
“I’m enjoying watching you,” he said.
“Hollyfield’s magnificent. The house, the gardens. We can ride and boat and then dance until dawn.”
“Not quite that late, I hope,” he said.
“Lieutenant Weston’s a wonderful partner,” she said. “And so handsome in his uniform.”
“And if he touches you, I’ll cut off his hand.”
She laughed. “Jason, you’re so transparent.”
“I only want the best for you.” In fact, the idea of anyone knowing his sister in that way twisted his gut into a knot. He’d have to tolerate someone, but he’d have to be worthy of her. Her childhood sweetheart, the duke, would do. He only had to lure the fellow here and somehow keep his brother out of sight.
“What about you?” Lily said. “Who’s best for you?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
She glanced back at the mirror, meeting his gaze in the reflection. “You spent a great deal of time looking at Lady Rushford.”
“I did no such thing.”
“You did,” she said, glancing back directly at him. “Whenever you thought no one would notice, you practically stared at her.”
“I did not stare.” Good Lord, had he? He hadn’t begun to recover from the shock of seeing her name on her card when he’d been confronted by the woman herself. All the shame of writing that blasted note to her had washed over him, followed by the memory of that kiss and no small amount of joy at simply seeing her again. She brought an energy with her wherever she went, like the shock Thomas had given her, but all her own.
“I like her,” Lily declared. “Thomas did, too. I could tell.”
“At least she kept him occupied and out of trouble. More or less.”
“You shouldn’t speak of Thomas that way,” Lily said. “He loves you.”
“And I him, but he’s an inconvenience in polite company.”
“Then blast polite company.”
“Lily, your language.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I’m not ashamed of my brother, and I don’t think you should be, either.”
“I’m not.” He huffed. “It’s complicated.”
“I don’t see why. Something is either right, or it’s not,” she said.
For a moment, her jaw lifted at a stubborn angle, and her eyes took on a determined gleam. Not at all unlike the way Lady Rushford had looked standing in the entryway of Hollyfield that afternoon. He shouldn’t like that expression, but after hours of empty smiles, it refreshed. And challenged. He couldn’t help but smile at her.
Mary approached with one of Lily’s dresses draped over her arm. “Would you like to wear this one?”
“Oh, yes. Perhaps with the lavender ribbons.”
“Very good, miss.”
“Do you think you could work some ribbons into my hair?” Lily asked.
“Certainly,” Mary answered.
“My cue to leave.” Jason rose and walked toward the door.
Lily caught his hand as he went by. “Lady Rushford’s taking us to the stone circle tomorrow.”
“She said she would, yes.”
“I’m going to enjoy myself.” Lily stared up at him with that same gleam in her eyes. “You will, too.”
“I’m sure I will.” He bent to kiss her, but she shooed him away with her hand.
“Don’t muss my hair,” she ordered.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” After kissing her hand, he let himself out of her room and stood in the hallway for a moment. Another dinner to get through.
*
Bess scanned the ground for scraps of paper as the throng descended on the place where she’d torn Captain Northcross’s apology into shreds and scattered the pieces to the wind. She’d done that weeks ago, of course, and anything that survived the weather would have been taken by birds for nesting material. Still, if the man were to discover a bit with his own handwriting on it and realize what he held, her humiliation from the note would only grow.
She found nothing, of course, but that did little to ease the discomfort of having them all here at her special place. Granted, she didn’t own it, but neither did any of them. Even the captain was only renting the property.
The chattering of all those cultured people came through clearly from where she stood, at a bit of a distance and behind one of the stones. She leaned against it, savoring the coolness and the tickle of the lichen against her cheek. The people would go away again, and the site would remain as it always had.
“Lady Rushford,” a soft female voice said from behind her.
She straightened and turned. “Miss Northcross.”
The captain’s sister curtseyed.
“You needn’t do that,” Bess said. “I’m not really so old or so forbidding.”
“Heavens,” Miss Northcross said. “I didn’t mean to suggest you were.”
“Forgive me. I’ve been out of sorts lately.” Mostly caused by having to face the girl’s brother. And his friends.
“Do you know much about the stones?” Miss Northcross asked.
“They’re very old, from before the Romans,” she answered. “Everything else is a mystery.”
“I think they’re enchanted,” Miss Northcross said. “I think they can make magic.”
How fanciful, and yet, on mornings when wisps of fog rose from the wet grass to cloud the base of the stones, one could almost believe they’d risen from the ground under their own power and could shoot messages up into the heavens.
“It stands to reason,” Miss Northcross went on. “People wouldn’t put so much effort into creating something mundane, would they?”
“I suppose.”
Miss Northcross went to the center of the circle, held her arms out to her sides, and turned slowly all the way around. “I think that if you stand right here, you’ll get everything you want.”
“I doubt it. I’ve stood there many times.”
Miss Northcross cocked her head. “Did you get what you wished for?”
What a question. What would she wish for? She had everything anyone could possibly want. What she didn’t have already, she could buy.
Before she was forced to ponder that question any further, Miss Northcross’s elder brother, the viscount, appeared. He had something in his hand. Something that squirmed.
“I say,” he declared. “Look what I found just over there.”
“It’s a snake,” his sister said, going toward him to study the creature more closely.
“He was sunning himself on a rock,” the viscount said. “He was still a bit sluggish, so I caught him easily.”
The thing slithered up his arm, revealing itself in all its . . . well, not glory exactly. Scaliness was about the best you could say of it.
Miss Northcross scooped it gently into her palms and held it out toward Bess. “Isn’t it cute?”
She shuddered and took a step backward. “Does it bite?”
“All snakes bite if you frighten them,” the viscount said.
“Then let’s hope he feels safe,” Bess said.
“He’s not slimy at all,” Miss Northcross said. “Touch him, Lady Rushford.”
The beast flicked its forked tongue at her, and another shiver went down her spine. “I’m as well acquainted with it as I hope to be.”
The viscou
nt took the animal back from his sister. “I’d better show it to the others.”
“No, Thomas.” Miss Northcross put her hand on the viscount’s arm. “I don’t think they’d appreciate him.”
“He’d probably be happier if you put him back where you found him,” Bess added.
“Hm.” The viscount stared at the snake for a moment. “Right you are. I’ll go do that.”
He left them, taking his discovery with him. Miss Northcross went back to looking like the most normal young woman imaginable, lovely in her day dress with tiny roses embroidered on the bodice. The whole family must be eccentric, although the captain seemed ordinary enough. No, not ordinary. Not him. Sane. Perhaps not that, either.
Lieutenant Weston appeared next, looking almost as splendid in his uniform as Captain Northcross did in his. “Your friends have arrived, Lady Rushford.”
“Thank you.” Anna and Rose must have finished the chapter they’d felt so determined to write before they joined the party. She’d discover when she got home if Anna had managed to work a vampyre into it.
She and Miss Northcross followed the lieutenant away from the stones and down to where gentlemen lounged on blankets laid out on the grass and ladies milled around, their faces shielded from the sun by bonnets.
Rose and Anna were just pulling up in a pony cart as Captain Northcross went over to greet them. Both women climbed out and curtseyed to his bow, but when Bess and the lieutenant arrived, Rose took one look at him and paled. All the color drained from her face, and she clutched Anna’s arm as if she’d faint.
Bess quickly went to support her. “What’s wrong?”
“The Eighth Dragoons,” Rose said in a whisper.
“Why yes,” Captain Northcross said. “Both of us are members.”
“That’s my husband’s regiment.”
“I don’t understand,” the captain said.
“Rose—Mrs. Thornton—is a widow,” Bess said.
“Edward Thornton?” The captain glanced at his friend, and a silent message went between them.
“You knew my husband?” Rose said.
“Yes, ma’am,” the lieutenant said. “We’re very sorry for your loss.”