“Very little—or perhaps too much, depending on the point of view one takes.” He looked up at the house and again experienced a sense of strangeness. Lowering his voice, he said, “My scribbled hand will have cued Hester to my haste and how anxious I was for your well being. Given the Parisian postmark and our simultaneous return to London, I fear she may also suspect we traveled together.”
She chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe we could tell her that I wrote to you from here. Did you specifically mention that I was with you?”
He shook his head. “Only that you are the daughter of my late mentor and that you need a respectable place to stay while you wait for your trust to be closed. I didn’t even indicate how you’d come to be without a home.”
“Then we can say that I was living with Felicity in London until she moved to Italy. Clearly, we needn’t allude to the count; she and Tess could have as easily gone on their own. I’ll say that I spoke to you about my trust before you left for Paris, then contacted you when she decided to move.”
“Yes...I like the idea. The rest of our story can be tailored to fit that premise.” He looked to the door of the house and then back at her. “Well, are you ready to go inside and meet her?”
She sighed. “I don’t know if ‘ready’ is quite the word, but I think it’s time we do.”
Nearly as soon as Tristan dropped the knocker, the butler answered the door and showed them in. Within seconds Hester rushed into the hall, patting her always-unruly auburn hair. Since he had last seen her she’d had it coiffed short, but the locks around her ears still found a way to look puffy. She beamed at both arrivals, her fair cheeks tinged pink. Though Tristan knew she loved entertaining, she appeared even more excited than he’d expected.
“Tristan! What a delight to see you.” She stood on tiptoe, obliging him to bend down and kiss her cheek. Turning to Lila, she curtsied, her face still radiant. “You must be Miss Covington. Lord Poinsett and I are so pleased to have stay you with us.”
“Thank you, my lady.” She returned the curtsy, lowering her gaze with uncharacteristic sheepishness. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality.”
“‘Tis nothing. I’m always glad to have company. This house gets quite lonely during the day, when my husband is often out. Please, come through to my sitting room.” She gestured for them to follow her. Looking back at Lila, she said, “I’m sorry Lord Poinsett is not here now to greet you.”
“I’ll look forward to meeting him later.” Her tone seemed stilted, and Tristan suppressed a smile. He didn’t think he had ever before heard her sound so formal.
“Yes, he will be here for dinner.” Hester directed him a pointed look, eyebrows raised and eyes bright—an expression he read as one of approval. A passing maid caught her attention and she called, “Digby, bring tea around.”
As they entered the sitting room, he shook his head at the sight of his sister’s desk. Papers, cards and envelopes littered the surface, some scattered and others sorted into stacks. No doubt she had been writing out invitations to her next rout or musicale.
“This is a cozy room,” Lila said, gazing toward a cluster of seating around the hearth.
“‘Tis my favorite. Please, make yourself comfortable.” Hester led Lila to the armchair that Tristan knew she usually reserved for herself. Taking a place on an adjacent settee, she looked to him and patted the spot next to her.
As he lumbered over, she turned back to Lila again. “My brother mentioned that you are the daughter of his late mentor, Sir Francis Covington. If I recall correctly, your father had quite a reputation as a philosopher, did he not?”
“Yes, my lady. Mr. Wyndam has been kind enough to advise me about the trust my father left me.” Lila seemed not to notice Hester’s curiosity about her family. She must have been nervous indeed. “He even left me an address where I could reach him in Paris, which, as you know, turned out to come in handy.”
Tristan grimaced. The information she granted seemed a bit excessive to him, and he noticed Hester raise an eyebrow, too. But the next moment his sister shifted back into conversation. “I am always glad to hear good of my brother, not that the occurrence is rare. He’s quite dedicated to his profession—too dedicated, I’m inclined to believe. I should like to see him tend more to his personal life.”
He recognized this as a muted reference to his continued unmarried state, but Lila wouldn’t know Hester enough to understand the hint. As a result, she again dropped her gaze into her lap. “It’s true that Mr. Wyndam has spent too much of his time tending to my concerns. He even accompanied me to the bank this morning. But if all goes well, I should receive my trust money this week. I shan’t have to impose on either of you much longer.”
“Goodness, I didn’t mean to imply that you were imposing!” Hester clapped her hand against her chest, spurring Tristan to smirk. Served her right to be misunderstood when she tried to pry into his business.
“Why, dear, you are a personal concern to this family,” she continued, “being the daughter of Tristan’s mentor. Isn’t that right, brother?”
“I believe I follow you, Hester.” He gave her a wry look. “You’re suggesting that I should dedicate more time to Miss Covington’s concerns?”
“Don’t be daft.” Waving a hand at him, she turned back to her guest. “Ignore him, dear. But rest assured that you are no trouble to Poinsett and me. Indeed, we consider it a treat to have you. You may stay as long as you like.”
Lila blinked, apparently a bit stunned by the cascade of words. “Thank you, my lady.”
“Please, call me Hester.”
“Hester then.” She smiled but looked downward yet again. “And you must call me Lila.”
Tristan watched on, noting the satisfied smile his sister wore. When she volleyed the look between Lila and him several times, he suddenly realized its significance: She had already resolved to make a match of them.
The grin he’d been wearing fell from his mouth. Though he had figured Hester might conclude he and Lila would suit, he had hoped she’d show a little more discretion and take at least a week to decide. By that time he had planned to remove himself from the scene. The last thing he needed was someone telling him how happy he and Lila could be together. He knew it too well on his own.
While he stewed over these thoughts, the maid appeared with tea and confections. Hester poured, tending first to her guest. Though Lila accepted the cup and saucer, she averted her gaze when offered a plate of scones.
“Just tea for me, please,” she said. Her paleness caught Tristan’s attention.
“You’re not hungry at all?” he asked, concerned. He himself could have devoured the entire selection of cakes and biscuits. “Are you still feeling under the weather?”
She nodded. “A little, I’m afraid.”
“I didn’t realize you were unwell, Lila.” Hester broke off pouring in the middle of a cup and set the teapot down. “Tristan, why didn’t you say something? I would have sent her to bed directly.”
“‘Tis nothing, really.” Lila took a minuscule sip of tea and gulped as if swallowing an egg. “In all likelihood, I’m simply tired. The last few weeks have been trying.”
“Even so, you shouldn’t risk growing ill in earnest. You need your rest.” Hester handed Tristan the half-filled cup and looked to the maid, who had just turned to leave the room. “Wait a moment, Digby. Miss Covington will need you to show her to her chamber.”
Lila set down her tea. “I’m truly not so badly off, but perhaps I ought to lie down, anyway. If I have by chance caught something, I wouldn’t want to spread the illness to the rest of household.”
“There is a stomach bug going around,” Hester said, rising at the same time as her guest. “A mild one, however, nothing to worry about. Poinsett and I had it a fortnight ago. ‘Twas gone in four-and-twenty hours. If that is what you’ve picked up, I pray your case will be no worse than ours.”
Tristan stood as well, wondering if the same bug could
be overrunning France as well as England. He supposed it were possible and hoped, for Lila’s sake, that nothing more serious had affected her. “Is there anything you’ll need, Lila?”
“Don’t worry, Tristan, we’ll take care of her,” Hester said. Her gaze lingered on him an extra second or two before she turned to the maid. “Digby, take Miss Covington’s tea for her and show her to the Yellow Room. Make sure she’s comfortable before you leave her alone.”
“I’ll check with Higginbotham near the end of the day,” Tristan said to Lila, stepping closer to her. “I’ll report back to you tonight what progress he makes.”
“Thank you, Tristan.” She gave him a warm smile, then turned it upon his sister. “Thank you, Hester. I am certain I’ll feel better in no time.”
As he watched her leaving the room with the maid, he could feel Hester’s gaze on him again. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and could tell that she was smirking at him. Rolling his eyes, he turned his back on her. “Don’t even start, Hester.”
“Start what?” she asked in a high-pitched tone that clearly rang false.
He felt his whole body tense. He was in no mood to listen to whatever praise for Lila his sister might come up with. Letting go of her pained him quite enough without Hester rubbing salt in the wounds.
“I noticed that you two are on first-name terms,” she said from behind him.
“And is that so remarkable?” he asked without looking at her. “I know Miss Covington through her father. I am a friend of the family.”
“I haven’t heard you speak of her family this decade.” Her footsteps indicated that she was walking back toward the hearth, then the settee squeaked under her weight. “She is beautiful—a diamond of the first water. Her manners are everything that they should be. She is friendly but not too forward. I quite like her. And I’m sure I sensed an attraction between the two of you, on both of your parts.”
“Good God, Hester.” He swung around to face her. “I’ve told you a hundred times I’m not in the market for a wife. When I am, I promise you’ll be among the first to know. As for now, I’m concentrating on my career. I have no time to humor your little machinations.”
“‘Machinations’? La, Tristan.” She pursed her lips and waved a hand at him. “I’ve never heard such exaggeration. I’m doing nothing surreptitious. And I’m tired of hearing that irrelevant excuse about your career. You’re well enough established to support a wife and, indeed, have been for several years.”
“But I am not looking for a wife,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Why not?”
“I’ve already told you that I don’t have time for this conversation.” He yanked his gloves out of his pocket. “I have to go. I have business to tend.”
She stood again and walked up to stand directly behind him. “I don’t understand you, Tristan. Why all this resistance? There’s clearly a magnetism between you and Lila, and she’s a highly suitable match.”
“How would you know?” he asked, struggling to pull his glove on. “You’ve barely even met her.”
“Why, it’s obvious how sweet she is. Besides, I made a few inquiries as soon as I received your letter.” She put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a sly grin that only served to feed his ire.
He shrugged away from her and started toward the door.
Following him, she said, “I learned that not only is Lila the daughter of a baronet, but the trust fund coming her way is quite sizable. Word has it that she’s a bit bookish, but, matched with your studying, I think that quality will go rather nicely.”
“Enough, Hester. I will hear no more of this nonsense.” He marched into the hall, but a sudden thought stopped him. Turning back around, he nearly caused his sister to barrel into him. “And don’t bring this up with her, either.”
She put her hands on her hips, the suggestive smile finally fading from her face. Frowning up at him, she said, “I don’t understand your attitude, Tristan. “Why is your nose so out of joint over this?”
“I don’t like your matchmaking.”
“You have never condemned it so before. There’s something more to this, and I want to know what it is.” She studied him closely, her fine eyebrows crunched together. “Why are you so upset?”
The butler chose this moment to glide past them, his nose pointed stiffly forward in a plain attempt not to react to their conversation. Wise to him, they both stopped and waited for him to continue into the kitchen.
“Drop it,” Tristan said quietly when the door had closed behind him.
She shook her head. “No. I care about you too much. I’m your sister. Explain to me what the problem is, and I’ll help in any way I can.”
“If you care about me, you’ll leave me be.” He opened the front door and started down the steps.
Hester remained silent while he untethered the horses and climbed up on the box of the carriage. As he picked up the reins, he looked over one last time and saw that she was still standing on the front steps, frowning at him.
“I’ll see you for dinner at eight,” she called.
Reluctantly, he nodded. He couldn’t imagine staying away. He would want too much to see if Lila was feeling any better.
“Don’t forget that you promised to check on Lila’s trust,” Hester shouted. “You won’t want to disappoint her.”
He twisted his mouth and gave the reins a sharp tug. How right Lila had been when she predicted his sister’s presence would add no ease to untangling themselves from each other. With Hester attempting to throw them together, these next few days were going to be hell.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
When Lila woke, her stomach felt almost back to normal. She sat up slowly and dragged herself to the washbasin. As she splashed her face with cool water her body still felt heavy, but she didn’t quite feel ill.
A glance at the clock told her it was nearly six. She wondered if Tristan had returned for dinner. Though he’d been gone only a few hours, she wasn’t used to being without him. It had been weeks since they’d been apart for so long. Anxious to see him, she dressed to go downstairs.
On coming out of her room she met up with her hostess, walking with a black-haired man of medium height. With Hester’s arm curled so tightly around his, he could only be Lord Poinsett.
“You’re out of bed!” Hester beamed at her. “How wonderful. Your color looks a hundred times better.”
Embarrassed by the fuss, Lila looked downward. “‘Twas nothing, really. I must have simply been tired.”
“No wonder, with all the uproar in your life lately. Oh, I’m sorry. Allow me to present my husband, Philip, Lord Poinsett.” She gazed at him with eyes that sparkled. “Poinsett, this is our guest, of course, Lila Covington.”
“A pleasure, Miss Covington.” His lordship grinned and swept her a bow. With a slender build and longish hair, he barely looked of age. “I’m relieved to find you recovered. I was afraid I wouldn’t get to meet you tonight.”
“Thank you, my lord. I assure you I’m quite well.”
“Please—call me Philip,” he said as the three of them started down the stairs. His easy manner added to his air of youthfulness.
Lila had a feeling she would like him. She reciprocated his invitation, urging him to use her first name.
As they passed through the main hall, Tristan was entering the front door. He gave Lila a brief nod in greeting, then spent several minutes exchanging salutations with his brother-in-law.
When the four of them turned toward the dining room, she still couldn’t catch his eye. His aloofness made her heart constrict. What could be wrong? She prayed that no further problems had arisen with her trust.
“Did you talk to the banker?” Hester asked—as if reading her mind—while the party took their places at the dinner table. “I hope he’s got matters in hand.”
He nodded, skimming Lila’s gaze before looking back at his sister. “All is well. Mr. Higginbotham has already heard back from one of his conta
cts. He needs only one more confirmation of Miss Covington’s identity before he can close her trust.”
“Wonderful.” Philip grinned. To the passing butler, he said, “Jepson, bring us a bottle of champagne.”
“Oh, my.” Again, Lila felt shy about the attention. “Isn’t celebration premature at this point?”
He shrugged. “If so, we have enough other happy matters to observe with a new friend staying here and a visit from Hester’s brother.”
Before the meal started, Philip led them in several toasts along these lines. Still more tired than usual, Lila paced herself with tiny sips so the alcohol wouldn’t put her to sleep. Tristan, on the other hand, had started a second glass by the time the bread was served. Judging by his avoidance of her gaze, she guessed she had something to do with his mood.
The first course consisted of a delicate pumpkin soup. Philip balanced a steaming spoon above his bowl, still chatting between blowing to cool it. Watching his aim, he asked seemingly in general, “So, how was your trip to Paris?”
She and Tristan exchanged a startled glance before realizing only he had been addressed.
Looking away quickly, Tristan cleared his throat. He lifted his champagne and said in a sardonic tone, “Paris was as Paris always is...full of diversion and indiscretion.”
Hester cocked an eyebrow in a way reminiscent of her brother. “And ennui, judging by your manner. For my part, I think you’re far too embroiled in business. Can’t you ever join in the diversion?”
He twisted his mouth. “As well as the indiscretion?”
“Of course not!”
“Well, one often follows the other.” He downed the remnants of his drink, never meeting Lila’s gaze during the exchange.
“Tristan, what is the matter with you tonight?” Hester asked. “You’ll make a bad impression on our guest. Lila, dear, he’s not usually so cynical. He must be fatigued from traveling so recently.”
“I understand,” she said, and she did—too well. “I know your brother enough to realize that this is a rare instance of ill humor.”
For the Love of Lila Page 19