He leaned back in his chair, crossed his fingers on his lap and said, “It seems there is always something to learn at these events.” This was true since Genie happened to have demanded a game at the last country party Francis’ had held.
And every one before that since they were children.
But Ashwick didn’t know about the rest since this was only his second year coming.
“Teach me something,” Lorena asked.
Ashwick eyes darkened to the color of steel.
“About yourself, I mean,” she quickly stated, twisting one hand with the other.
“He’s in possession of a set of Roman dice that he won’t let anyone touch,” Calvin said as he leaned over the couch and propped himself on the back of it, his head appearing between them. His golden green gaze shifted to Lorena and he said, “Selfish of him. He’s got a whole house of things no one can touch.”
“You’re only interested in the coins and dice,” Ashwick cut in. “Anything that will make your time at the tables more entertaining.”
Lorena looked at Calvin and said, “Tell me, are you any good at the tables?”
“The best,” Calvin said, throwing a dark blond brow up.
“He cheats,” Ashwick cut in.
“Yet, I’m never caught,” Calvin said with confidence. Everything Calvin said was done with confidence. He was so sure of himself. As the son of landed gentry, one would think him a man of rank, but in his own eyes, and in the eyes of every woman who caught sight of him, he had more charm than any man had a right.
And it worked.
“One of these days, someone will catch you,” Lorena promised.
“Hope it’s you, Ren,” he whispered in a low voice. Then he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand before straightening.
Lorena touched her cheek where it still tingled and grinned because, well… it was Calvin Lockwood.
But then she met Ashwick’s hard eyes and her smile slowly faded.
The door opened, and William struck the chords to the first round.
Francis looked around the room, spotted Genie by the empty fireplace, and immediately cut a path straight to her.
William’s fingers moved just as brisk as Francis’ stride and grew into a fantastic ditty that had everyone watching to see what happened.
Francis stopped right before Genie and looked down at her.
The music was still at a run.
Genie’s eyes were wide, her hands crossed over her chest. She looked as though she were struggling to pull in breath.
Francis reached out and stopped his hand before her cheek; the music continued at the same pace. Then Francis moved his hand over toward a chair and table where Mr. Rollo Dixton and Calvin’s older brother, Frank Lockwood, sat. The music lowered just a touch. Francis’ hand returned to Genie; the music went higher.
Genie looked ready to pant.
Pant or pounce. Lorena wasn’t sure.
Francis’ hand moved up, past her hair and over the clock. The music grew and he grinned. He turned his head to look at the grandfather clock by the door then returned his gaze to the one by the mantle and set the time.
The music stopped.
Everyone cheered.
Genie cried, “No!”
Francis turned back to her, placed a hand on the mantle, leaned over her, and said with a smile, “You’re unbelievably obvious, Evie.”
Evie. Only Francis called her that. Everyone else called her either Genie or more formally. Evie was reserved for Francis and Francis alone. In fact, Lorena had witnessed another man try and call Genie that only to have Genie correct him. The other man was calling her formally now.
Genie smiled and said in a low voice, “I can’t help it.” A bright smile grew on her face as she gazed up at Lorena’s brother.
Francis’ eyes softened, and he touched her nose before strolling away. “Who's next?” he asked.
Ashwick rose.
Francis grinned at him and clapped him on the back, and Lorena watched him stroll from the room. As he closed the door, his eyes flickered to hers before the wood blocked him from her line of sight.
Genie appeared, stole Lorena’s glove, and pranced across the room before setting it on the potted plant. “He should have to find Lorena’s glove and return it to her.”
“No,” Francis stated.
Lorena’s heart skipped, believing Francis knew her truth.
Her brother went on, “That’s two tasks. He’d have to get the glove and return it to her. Ashwick is not used to games. It’s better we do not make it too challenging.”
Genie complained, Francis fought her. Genie won.
And then… only moments later, Ashwick bent before her and, while staring into her eyes, took her hand gently and slipped the glove over her fingers, Lorena felt like a winner.
* * *
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CHAPTER TWO
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The Third Day of the Valdeston Country Party
“I think he rides just to avoid her,” Calvin said as he came to stand by Lorena’s chair.
She turned her face away from the sunrise and over to look at Calvin’s profile. Then she turned back toward the field and watched as Francis raced his horse, Prince, toward another jump. Rider and beast flew in unison over every obstacle and Lorena had always thought it a magical thing to watch. Riding Prince was the first thing Francis did every morning. Though Lorena knew how much he enjoyed those moments, she did think he enjoyed them that much more because Genie avoided them.
At the moment, Lorena was certain Genie had her face pressed to the glass upstairs as she watched Francis ride, but she would never get too close to him when he was on Prince’s back. Genie was afraid of horses. She could barely get into a carriage without being reduced to hysterics. Often, Lorena had to hold her hand through moments of their journeys.
“You may be right,” Lorena decided, just before she picked up her tea and began to drink. Then she asked Calvin, “How’s your morning? Is there anything you need?”
“Ever the perfect hostess,” he murmured before dropping into a chair, his eyes steady on her.
Her stomach warmed at just the glance, and she looked away and concentrated on a tree in the distance. “Would you like some tea?” she asked him.
“I don’t like tea,” he told her, still watching her.
She knew he didn’t like tea. Still, she was out of things to say. She could ask him the question again in either Latin or French but thought that a bad idea.
“Maybe, I haven’t been doing it right,” he told her.
“What?” she asked as she dared to turn back in his direction.
His eyes were clear of his usual playfulness, but only for a second. Then he grinned, but not even that was usual. This one held a rare warmth, as if he actually cared. “I think I’ve been doing it wrong.”
Lorena had to force the words out of her straining lungs. “What are you doing wrong?”
He did a seductively slow blink and his grin went playful again. “Tea. I think I should give it another go. How do you take yours?”
Lorena blinked rapidly. “One sugar, no cream.”
He moaned, a sound that seemed to vibrate the very air, and said, “Maybe I should try it.”
She nodded and thought he’d move to one of the empty cups on the table. Instead, he started to reach for her cup. Lorena gasped and pulled it away. “No.”
He chuckled and said, “Come on, Ren. Just a sip.”
Lorena jumped, flung her cup back, and heard a curse. Then she turned around and gasped. She’d flung her tea right at Ashwick’s middle and she knew, even through his shirt, it had to burn. His expression was dark.
Lorena bit her lip. “Oh, dear. Let me help you.” She turned to get a napkin while Calvin broke into a fit of laughter.
“You two are such a disaster,” Calv
in chuckled loudly as he almost fell out of his chair laughing. “Every time.”
Lorena glared at him, then glanced around the field at the other men. They were all staring at her, trying in vain to hide their smiles. Lorena was ready to just about die. She moved to Ashwick.
“Stay away from me!”
She leaned back and stared into his cold eyes. Then shook her head.
No, not again.
She simply couldn’t do anything right with him around.
Ashwick rushed into the house and Lorena followed.
“Ashwick, I’m sorry.”
“Go away,” he told her over his shoulder.
She hurried her steps, almost having to run compared to his long strides until she rounded him and cut him off. “Here,” she whispered. “Let me help.”
Ashwick avoided her hands and backed into the yellow drawing room. “I don’t need your help.” He was holding his clothes away from him.
“Please,” Lorena said. “I won’t hurt you.”
His eyes widened, and he continued to back away from her. “I don’t think that possible.”
Lorena cringed. His words were very accurate. “Please, let me help.”
He was in a corner when she finally made it to him. He held himself as far against the wall as he could, staring at her as though it were a knife in her hands and not a handkerchief.
She pressed the cloth into where his shirt met his breeches and said, “See, no harm done.” Then she looked up at him and grinned.
Ashwick held perfectly still for a long moment and relaxed, settling onto his feet. The action brought him closer to Lorena, but she didn’t move.
Her eyes went back to his shirt and she pressed repeatedly, trying to soak up as much of the liquid as possible.
They were silent while she worked tea from his shirt, hoping it wasn’t ruined. Then she shook her head and spoke what was on her mind. “We almost made a record, you and I.” There had been no disaster of their combined making for three days. That was more than ever before.
Knowing exactly what she was speaking about, he whispered, “I know.”
Her eyes went up to him and she offered him a smile. With his body next to the window and the sun chasing away the shadows of the previous night, Lorena noticed that Ashwick had faint sunspots at the tops of his cheeks and she wondered if she’d ever seen him up close in daylight. Perhaps not.
She leaned in closer to get a better look and was amazed at how they softened his rather stern appearance. They almost made him boyish
Ashwick made a choked noise. “Oh, God,” he groaned, almost in pain.
Lorena frowned and whispered. “What is it?”
He closed his eyes. “Your hands, Lorena. They are on me.”
Lorena shook her head, not understanding. He hadn’t minded her touch just a moment ago. She looked down to discover that her hands had moved when she’d risen on her toes to look at his cheeks. They’d slid further down, and she was using his body to keep herself propped up.
Something hard rested below his stomach, thrusting toward her through his britches.
He sucked in a breath and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Lorena.”
The hairs on Lorena’s arms stood at attention, her body reacting to the way he’d called her name. She liked it.
That seemed wrong.
“Am I hurting you?”
With his eyes shut tight, he shook his head. They opened. “God, no.” His voice seemed to go heavier by the minute.
She liked that, too. She definitely liked that she wasn’t hurting him. She moved her hand further down.
“Don’t,” he hissed.
Startled, she moved them back up.
“Fuck.” The word vibrated from his lips and his body tightened, his hands pressed flat onto the wall. His eyes narrowed on her.
Lorena felt her jaw drop and her body still. “Did you just say that word?”
His hands slipped on her wrist and with a jolt, he pushed her back.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him.
He was silent for a moment, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You were supposed to be cleaning up a mess. Not making one.”
She frowned and took a step back. “I didn’t do anything wrong.” Why couldn’t she ever get anything right with him?
He had the nerve to chuckle. He took a step toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’ve no idea what you were just doing, do you?”
Lorena had some idea. “I was cleaning your shirt.”
“No.” He shook his head. His grin turned into one of his knee-weakening smiles.
Lorena sighed. “Well, then, I’ve no idea what I was doing.”
“Maybe one day, I’ll teach you.”
She lifted a brow and was reminded of their conversation in the parlor the other evening. “You never told me something about yourself.”
Ashwick took a step toward her, lowered his face next to hers, and rubbed his nose against hers. His mouth rested just above hers and he whispered, “Guess.”
Lorena’s eyes held his and continued to hold his eyes as he backed away and left the room.
* * *
The Fourth Day of the Valdeston Country Party
“Oh, wait,” Genie shouted as the maid, Charlotte, passed her, a tray laden with food in her hands. Genie put a single perennial in a small glass vase on the tray. The purple flower added a feminine and bright touch to the breakfast arrangement. Genie asked Charlotte, “Did he say anything about the flower yesterday?”
“No, miss,” Charlotte told her. “He knows very well it is always from you. He only stares at it for a bit before he begins to eat. Indeed, he’s received them so often that his friends don’t bother making jokes about it anymore.”
This seemed reasonable. Genie had been placing a perennial by Francis' breakfast since the tender age of eleven, when she'd decided she would marry him. After that first year, Constance had made the gardener plant a private perennial bush at the London townhouse and the country estate just for this very purpose. Genie was faithful in making sure Francis had one every day when she was in his vicinity.
Lorena distinctly recalled the only time she and Genie had visited Oxford. The Duke of Valdeston was going to deliver a new Spanish-bred horse to Francis on his birthday, and Lorena and Genie had been allowed to accompany him. Lorena’s father neither discouraged nor encouraged Genie’s affections for his son, but he never said anything either way.
When they’d arrived at the inn, it had been very late, but Genie had gone mad for not being able to find a perennial bush in the vicinity. As the night wore on, she’d settled for a tulip, but had been in hysterics about it nonetheless. Then she’d bribed a maid to make sure Francis had it with his breakfast the next day.
Francis had arrived at the inn the next morning, looking winded and livelier than the early morning sun. He’d not received a note announcing his father’s visit or word of their arrival. Only Genie’s flower.
It had been enough.
Lorena had thought it adorable, but Francis had only recognized Genie and Lorena with a “Good morning, Lorena, Evie,” before turning his excitement to his horse. Lorena had been disappointed, but Genie had been glad that he’d called her Evie. She didn’t mind coming second to Francis’ horses so long as she was second. And in Genie’s mind, she was second.
Lorena and Genie watched Charlotte stroll away. The sun had not risen, but the men were awake because they planned to go fishing. Therefore, at Genie’s urging, she and Lorena were up as well. Lorena did not like early mornings, but thankfully the men only fished once while visiting Valdeston Manor. The fish selection was better at one of the other men’s estates, and another’s property was known as the place to hunt. Valdeston, with its hills, peaks, and endless grass fields, was best for riding.
Genie turned to her with a wide grin. “Did you hear what Charlotte said?”
Lorena blinked. “Yes. She told you he says nothing.”
Lorena laughed and gave her friend a tight hug. “I love you, too.”
“I know you hate getting up,” Genie said.
“It’s all right. You’d do the same for me,” Lorena replied, knowing it was true. She pulled away and yawned. She was very tired.
Genie yawned as well and it seemed all their excitement drained away.
“I’m going back to bed,” Genie announced with a sleepy grin. “And you?”
Lorena shook her head. “I’m going down to speak with Cook about the menu for dinner. I knew she’ll be up packing the men their meals for lunch. It’s best to do this now so that she might rest a while before dinner.”
Genie asked with another yawn, “Do you want company?”
Lorena shook her head and pushed her friend back toward her bedchamber. “Go to sleep.” Then she started down the hall, away from the family apartments, and down the stairs. She went down another hall and right into the kitchen.
Cook looked up at her and smiled. The baskets for lunch were already packed away and the footmen were carrying them out the door. “You’re up early,” Cook announced.
Lorena nodded, coming to stand at the counter in the middle of the space. “Let’s work quickly so that we may both rest.”
The evening meal seemed to create itself, as Cook told her what items they already held in the house, and Lorena suggested what dishes would go well together. The meal planning was done in no time and Cook asked, “Would you like some tea? I know a recipe that will get you back to sleep in no time.”
“Oh, no,” Lorena said. “I couldn’t trouble you—”
Lady Lorena’s Spinster’s Society ( The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 3