Never Miss a Chance (Kellington Book Two)

by Maureen Driscoll

  “Why don’t you go rescue her, Arthur?” asked Stalford.

  “Rescue whom?”

  “Miss Rennard, of course. The poor chit’s no doubt learning more about Roman antiquities than anyone should have to know, including the ancient Italians.”

  “She’ll be fine,” said Arthur, who nevertheless couldn’t stop staring at her.

  “I must say,” said Stalford again, “that I’m surprised you’re in your sister’s pocket. You’ve scarcely left her side all day. What’s the matter? Does Lynwood keep you all on that short of a leash?”

  Arthur turned his attention to Stalford. “Have a care with my brother’s name, Stalford. Family means everything to me.”

  There was a moment of tension, broken only by Edith summoning a footman to complain about a stain on the tablecloth. Lizzie didn’t hear all of the conversation, just a “lazy, incompetent, slattern” here and a “merciless punishment” there. After tersely dismissing the servant, Edith turned to find Lizzie staring at her. “You’re not going to carry tales to Riverton, are you? I didn’t dismiss the man permanently, though he most certainly deserved it. Do tell me I’m not going to have to give him five quid.”

  They were interrupted by Mr. Marley who, in his words, “humbly begged” to join them. Edith must have remembered his royal connections, because she regally waved him to take a seat.

  “Thank you, Lady Edith,” he said as he sat. “I must once again commend you for your kindness toward my sister and me. Not that it comes as a surprise. I have heard of your generous hospitality before, of course.”

  “You have?” Even Edith appeared surprised by the compliment.

  “Oh, yes. Many a visitor to Carlton House has remarked upon it. They spoke of the manor and the exquisite land surrounding it. I even heard there’s an ornamental lake. Can it really be true?”

  Edith warmed to the idea of bragging about her ancestral home. “The lake has been there for a century or more. We’ve had any number of landscape architects seek permission to walk the lands. We tell them no, of course. Tradesmen are so very common.”

  “I agree my good lady. I agree,” said Marley. “But can you tell me anything about the lake itself?”

  Edith’s plain face blanked. “It is, I would imagine, wet.”

  Marley nodded at the great revelation. “Have you ever found any interesting objects there?”

  “Why would I want anything that had been in the lake? That is most odd. Next thing you’ll be asking about the river. The rapids are terribly dangerous, so I never go down there, although Charlotte has sent a servant to the area from time to time. The lazy ones, you understand,” said Edith, shooting a glance at a nearby footman.

  “Of course, my lady,” said Marley, bowing while seated, which brought his poorly-tied cravat into contact with the strawberry preserves. “My scientific pursuits often take me to lakes and ponds and I was just wondering if anything had washed up.”

  “What is the nature of your scientific inquiry?’ asked Lizzie.

  “I’m compiling a history of agricultural techniques from the time of the Romans onward. I visit tracts of land and look for clues to how those people lived, what they ate, the tools they used. My sister has been quite helpful in recording my work through her drawings. Why, just the other day, we made a most fascinating discovery while digging through the dung of…”

  “Excuse me, old boy,” said Stalford before Marley could go any further into his dung discoveries, “but I’m afraid this conversation might not be the sort ladies should take part in. Their delicate sensibilities, you understand.” He turned to Lizzie and gave her just the slightest impudent wink, then turned to Edith and saw her beady little eyes trained upon him.

  “Of course, of course,” said Marley. “But if you wouldn’t mind, Lady Edith, I should like to explore the area around the lake. With your permission, of course.”

  “Certainly,” said Edith, who looked like she wished to give him permission to begin straight away.

  Stalford rose from the table, then asked Lizzie if she would like to accompany him on a walk. Looking for any excuse to end the conversation with Marley, she said yes.

  * * *

  The woman was most maddening, thought Arthur as he took off in search of Miss Rennard. He ought to be at his sister’s side, but he felt the need to find Miss Rennard. She’d disappeared into the woods just as Marley had joined their table.

  She also was a fast walker. Just as Arthur was about to turn back because he doubted she could’ve gone that far, he saw her a hundred feet ahead.

  “You walk as if being chased,” he said, as he closed the distance with her.

  “Why are you following me, my lord?” she asked as she stopped and turned around.

  “To catch you, of course,” replied Arthur with the smile that had sent many hearts aflutter, but wasn’t working at all on this chit.

  “I am most displeased with you, my lord.”

  “Why is that? And call me Arthur.”

  “I returned to retrieve my…clothing from the bush near the lake, but it was gone,” she said with the hint of a blush.

  “Imagine that.”

  “I want it back.”

  “Well, if I should see a deer in petticoats, I shall pass along your message.”

  “There is no deer in petticoats, as you very well know. You must return my clothing immediately,” said Miss Rennard, whose eyes were especially beautiful when angry. Arthur longed to see how they’d look when filled with passion.

  “My dear Tara…”

  “I did not make you free with my Christian name.”

  “We’re discussing your undergarments. I assumed that put us on a first name basis.”

  “We are not discussing my undergarments.” At Arthur’s raised brow, she continued. “Well, we are, but only because you most improperly stole them.”

  “Only after you most improperly removed them.”

  “I want them back!”

  “On one condition.”

  She looked at him warily. “What is it?”

  “You tell me what you were looking for in the lake.”

  “That is none of your concern.”

  “My ruined boots prove it is at least partially my concern, but I’ll name a different condition. I’ll return your undergarments in exchange for a kiss.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “How badly do you want your undergarments returned?”

  It appeared Miss Rennard wanted nothing more than to strike him about the head and shoulders with her dainty fists. She was filled with passion. A fiery redhead. And Arthur’s blood heated just as he watched her weigh her options from behind narrowed eyes.

  “You must return them to me,” she said at last. “And stop referring to them as ‘undergarments.’ Call them clothing.”

  “Your underclothing?”

  Sapphire eyes flashed, yet it looked like she was also trying to suppress a grin. He wondered about the combination of passion and laughter. In his bed. It was a tantalizing thought.

  “I’ll do it,” she said.

  Utterly distracted, Arthur wasn’t sure exactly what she was agreeing to for a moment. But he could hope.

  “I’ll kiss you, but you must return my clothing as unobtrusively as possible. This afternoon.” She then closed her eyes, turned up her chin and pursed her lips, waiting, presumably, for him to do his worst.

  Arthur bowed his head toward hers. Just as his lips were a breath away he said, “I think I shall wait. Not to return your underclothing – I shall do that this afternoon. But for the kiss.”

  She opened her eyes, clearly surprised. “What makes you think you’ll get another chance?”

  “Oh, I will,” said Arthur, as he walked away. “You can count on it.”

  * * *

  “You really should allow me to help escort you over the uneven ground,” said the Earl of Stalford, as he tried to take Lizzie’s arm.

  “That is very kind of you, of course,” said Liz
zie, as she evaded his assistance once again. “But Lynwood Manor is filled with untold acres of uneven ground. I have very good balance, which served me well as I ran across the property while trying to keep up with my brothers. I was a bit of a hoyden growing up. Some say I still am.”

  “Not just some,” muttered Stalford as he tried to make his way over the umpteenth tree root. He wondered why the chit had such a fascination for nature. It would be much easier to compromise a frail young lady if you didn’t have to exert yourself quite so much to keep up with her.

  “Are you all right, my lord?” asked Lizzie. “You look a little off.”

  “I assure you I am perfectly fine,” he said, with a smile. “I’m just surprised you’re doing so well. You seem as though you don’t have a care in the world.”

  “I assure you I’m concerned about a great many injustices in the world, but am very fortunate to have so many blessings in my own life.”

  “So the situation with Riverton in Lords doesn’t concern you?”

  “What situation?”

  “Oh, dear,” said Stalford, shaking his head. “How like him not to have told you. Forget I said anything.”

  Lizzie stopped and took his arm. “Please tell me, my lord. Are they teasing him about his association with me?”

  “Teasing? No. But they’ve as good as told him he’ll never have a ministry office if he takes you to wife.”

  The blood drained from Lizzie’s face.

  “That…that can’t be possible. He would’ve told me.” But even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. It was the type of news Marcus would never tell her. A secret he would keep to himself, no matter what it cost him.

  “Lizzie,” said Stalford, raising one of her hands to his lips even as he tried to catch his breath from the damnable hike, “it breaks my heart to see you so upset. Please think nothing more about it. Riverton is a resourceful man, as is your brother. I’m sure something can be done for Riverton’s political ambitions. Eventually. Perhaps he may even sit on a committee or two, somewhere down the line. Now, shall we set off for the house once again?”

  In shock, Lizzie let the earl put her hand on his arm, as he led her back to the house.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  As luck would have it, the man who’d been on Lizzie’s mind continually finally arrived at Riverton Farms. But it was not as she imagined.

  When Lizzie saw Riverton’s carriage arrive, she ran downstairs to greet him. Stalford’s revelations about Lords had been most troubling, but she was sure she could find some way to make Marcus confide in her, and together they would come up with a way for him to achieve his dreams.

  She was starved for the very sight of him and couldn’t wait to see his beloved, solemn face, to hear him say her name in his quiet reserved way. So she was quite surprised that her first sign of Riverton was his laughter from inside the coach. It was a most unfamiliar sound. She’d heard him laugh on his long-ago trips to Lynwood Manor. At least she thought she had. But he hadn’t been in too jolly of a mood during the past few years when she’d seen him with her brothers. What the devil was he laughing at in the coach?

  The door opened, and a smiling Riverton disembarked. With everyone milling about the drive he didn’t see her, and it was all she could do not to run to him. Then he turned back to the coach and a slender, gloved hand reached out, along with a nicely-turned decidedly female ankle. They were attached to one of the most beautiful women Lizzie had ever had the displeasure to see. A blonde goddess with ringlets and a dimpled smile with cupid’s bow lips. Marcus had brought a woman with him. Two women, as an older version of the first got out. She looked to be the first lady’s mother and was still a beautiful woman. Where on earth did Marcus get them? And why was he laughing with them instead of broodily discussing the corn laws?

  Lady Riverton answered one of those questions as she positively floated to the carriage to embrace the older woman. “Eugenia!” she said, as the two women kissed the air two inches from each others’ cheeks. “What a lovely surprise! And you brought your divine Melissa! How I’ve longed to see you again, my dear. But however did you end up in Riverton’s carriage?”

  “Heaven must have sent him,” said Eugenia. “Our carriage broke down and Melissa and I were stranded. We were so worried that we would be at the mercy of the elements…”

  Lizzie looked at the cloudless sky.

  Eugenia continued. “…When who should happen by, but Riverton! He was so kind to offer us your hospitality until our coach can be repaired and we can be on our way again.”

  “But I shall not even hear of your leaving us, Eugenia,” said Lady Riverton. “You and Melissa will join our party. I absolutely insist upon it.”

  So caught up in the drama Lizzie didn’t notice Riverton slipping away from the goddess and coming to her side until she heard his dear, familiar voice in her ear. “I have missed you so.” But gone was the carefree, laughing Marcus. The man who spoke those words was the solemn one she knew so well.

  At least she thought she knew him well.

  She managed a weak smile, as her pulse beat erratically. “I’m so glad you have come,” she said.

  He looked like he wanted to say more, but his mother was calling him away to help dear Eugenia and Melissa. The courtyard was overrun with servants, and both Edith and Charlotte came out to hug the two ladies.

  Lizzie slipped back into the house, unnoticed by all but one.

  * * *

  After playing least in sight all afternoon, Lizzie sat at her vanity deep in thought as Betsy finished her hair before dinner.

  While Marcus had primarily been motivated by honor when he proposed to her, Lizzie believed he truly did care for her now. He wasn’t in love with her, but she’d hoped his feelings might develop further through the years.

  However, more was now at stake than whether their marriage would become a love match for him, as she was increasingly convinced it already was for her. He shouldn’t have to sacrifice his career. The man deserved some happiness in his life.

  She was also troubled by the arrival of the beautiful blonde. Stalford, who was a regular fount of information when it came to Riverton, told Lizzie she was Miss Melissa Simons, daughter of Viscount Nicholls. Viscount Nicholls had been a friend of the late Marquess of Riverton, and it had been hoped that a match might be made since Miss Simons was only five years younger than Marcus. Lady Riverton and Lady Nicholls were bosom bows and Lizzie assumed they’d not only welcome the match, but they’d do whatever it took to make it happen.

  Lizzie told herself that if Marcus had wanted to marry Miss Simons, he would have already done so. Even if he hadn’t stepped in and selflessly offered for Lizzie, there had been any number of years when he might’ve got himself leg-shackled to that pile of blonde ringlets.

  Lizzie chided herself for being unkind. Miss Simons was probably quite nice, although Lizzie did have some doubts as to whether the woman could challenge Marcus on an intellectual level, as she did.

  But, after all, no one was perfect.

  * * *

  “Did you really attend university lectures dressed as a lad?” an enchanted Arthur asked a blushing Miss Simons at dinner that night.

  “Not as many as I would’ve liked,” she said. “But I attended most of the annual seminars – and all of the ones in Greek.”

  “You know Greek?” asked Mr. Marley. While still dressed clergy-like, the man hadn’t mentioned dung discoveries all evening.

  “And Latin,” replied Miss Simons, “although I’m sure my accent is atrocious.”

  All the men laughed appreciatively.

  “I was always worried about dear Melissa on the outings,” said Lady Nicholls. “Can you imagine the scandal that would’ve occurred had she been caught? And there was always the possibility, seeing as how her figure is nothing like a man’s – if you’ll excuse my plain speaking. I’m surprised you didn’t try such a thing, Lady Elizabeth. I should think no one would’ve seen through your masquerade.
I mean that in the kindest possible way, of course.”

  “Of course,” said Lizzie.

  “I don’t believe Lady Elizabeth would’ve passed as a lad for even a moment,” said Miss Rennard. “Two things would have given her away: her figure and her intelligence. She’s much too smart to be a man.”

  “Well said, Miss Rennard,” said Miss Simons. “And I must say I would never have had the nerve to attempt it myself, had it not been for Riverton’s encouragement.”

  “Oh?” said Lizzie, looking at her fiancé. “I must say I’m surprised he would support such a non-traditional enterprise.”

  “Then you don’t know him as I do,” said Miss Simons, with a smile that highlighted her perfect teeth. “Marcus has always been up for a lark.”

  “Yes, well,” said the marquess in question as he cleared his throat. “It was a risk to be sure, but all in the pursuit of knowledge. Mansfield, is there more wine?”

  The butler bowed, then poured.

  “Speaking of pursuits,” said Lucinda Marley, “I am most curious about Miss Rennard’s fascination with the lake. It seems you spend a great deal of time down there. May I ask why?”

  “Riverton Farms is as fine a specimen of wilderness as I have ever seen,” replied Miss Rennard. “I enjoy exploring the property. It is particularly lovely.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it is,” said Miss Marley. “But why the lake in particular?”

  “Is it because of your family connections that you feel so drawn to Riverton Farms?” asked Mr. Marley. “And what is the nature of your connection, exactly?”

  “Yes,” said Charlotte. “I’ve rather wondered about that myself.”

  But before Miss Rennard could reply, Arthur interrupted. “While I’m sure the Riverton family tree is endlessly fascinating, I must confess to an abhorrence of ancestral history. Most likely it’s the result of tutors who pounded the Lynwood line into our heads mercilessly. Did they not, Lizzie?”

  “Lud, as a child I prayed Lynwood would never have sons because I could not stand learning the name of even one more heir.”

  “But Lynwood will marry, will he not?” asked an alarmed Charlotte. “It is his obligation and moral duty. He positively owes it to England. If not the world.”