by Brown, T. J.
An errant fly buzzed around him and he rolled up the newspaper and swatted at it. So what if he rather missed her? Having a woman best friend had been an experiment that had not worked out, that’s all. He hadn’t expected it to, really.
He swatted at the fly again. Women were too bothersome, and Victoria was the worst of the lot, the way she was always going on about wanting some kind of accomplishments. Ladies didn’t work. They were decorative. Hell, gentlemen didn’t work, either. They hired solicitors to manage their money and give them enough to live on every year.
It wasn’t his fault that Victoria made him feel rather . . . idle. He was doing what he was supposed to do. What his parents, who were “new rich” by anyone’s standards, had brought him up to do. He lunched. He attended all the right functions, had his clothes made at Peel’s, and flattered the right people. He’d even had the right affairs with the right women, women unattainable enough to make him seem rather the rake. He was an important man in their world. Young, yes, untried, yes, but up-and-coming.
He swatted again at the fly and almost upset his tea. Stupid thing. Where was Peter, for God’s sake?
Except Victoria judged him through different eyes. Lovely, critical blue eyes that wondered about a man who didn’t wake up excited about his work. It was her father’s fault. A highly successful man who’d studied plants, of all the bloody things. He’d ruined her, the way he’d brought her up among intellectuals, artists, and captains of industry. Incited her to believe that every one had a talent and a passion and a God-given edict to find it and nurture it. He’d produced a daughter who looked like a goddess, with the mind of an intellectual, the imagination of a sprite, and the temperament of a harpy. She’d been brought up to have absolutely no respect for men at all.
He found himself hating Sir Philip Buxton and he hadn’t even known him.
The fly bombed him again and Kit stood, swatting wildly. Bloody pest. What kind of place was this anyway?
“Is this some kind of new modern dance?” a voice asked from behind him.
“Where the hell have you been?” Kit asked. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”
A dark-haired gentleman raised an eyebrow. “That’s not my fault, pal. I’m only five minutes late.”
“Felt like forever.” Kit tossed a coin on the table.
“Someone’s in a bad mood. A few games of tennis and supper at the club will knock that right out of you. Are you saving that for later, for our match perhaps?” He looked meaningfully at the rolled-up paper still in Kit’s hand.
Kit threw it onto the table. “No,” he said rather more viciously than was warranted. “I’m damn well finished with it.”
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Rowena closed her eyes as Jonathon planed downward. She savored the sensation of weightlessness and the cold wind whipping about her cheeks. Droplets of mist stuck to her goggles and she wiped them away impatiently. They were flying low, beneath the cloud cover, and Rowena watched the fallow patchwork of fields as they moved lazily past.
They were testing a new aeroplane. Usually, Jon didn’t let her up in anything except a tried-and-true model, but she had insisted and he had given in, a tribute to her increasing knowledge and bravery. The new aeroplane seemed slower than Lucy, the plane he usually took her up in, but steadier, moving through the air smoothly, like a ship cutting through water. Jonathon dipped to the right and her stomach hit her ribs in that free-floating feeling she knew so well. Then he banked deeply back to the left and Rowena leaned with the aeroplane as she would a horse.
Then the nose tilted up in the air as Jon took the aeroplane steeply upward. Soon the cloud cover obscured everything, but Rowena could sense the aeroplane straining as it gained altitude. Within no time, they broke through the clouds and the world sparkled blue and white.
He leveled it out and Rowena wanted to scream in exultation. Tears came to her eyes, steaming up the corners of her goggles.
The change that flying had made in her life was irrevocable.
She would never return to the depressing grayness that had consumed her for too many months. Flying might not be considered a ladylike activity, but she would fight anyone who tried to ground her, because she had finally found something that completed her.
There must be other women like her. She would meet them, emulate them. Learn from them. She would stop Jonathon’s and Mr. Dirkes’s lollygagging around about her flying solo. It was time for her to find a way to break off the engagement with Sebastian and stand up for what she believed in: her future as a pilot. Her future with Jon.
She flung her arms out to embrace the sky, not caring whether Jon thought her gesture silly or foolish.
She would make her father proud.
* * *
“How did you say you broke your arm again?”
Kit glared at Sebastian. “Do I detect amusement in your voice? What kind of person would laugh at a friend with a broken limb?”
“No laughter here. What you’re hearing is disbelief and curiosity. How does the club tennis champ not only lose to Peter Tremain but break his arm while doing so?”
The two men were eating breakfast in the formal dining room of Eddelson Hall. The buffet had been set up to one side and a footman stood next to it in case they needed anything. Kit stared at the clumsy cast on his right arm. The only thing he truly needed was to learn how to eat with his left hand, and that was something the servant couldn’t provide.
“I was distracted,” he snapped. He didn’t tell Sebastian that he had seen a fair-haired woman walking by the lawn and for a moment thought it was Victoria. Before he knew it, he had pitched headlong over the net, busting his arm in the process.
It shouldn’t surprise him. They weren’t even on speaking terms and she was still ruining his life.
Kit had driven down late last night, unable to stand his mother’s meddling. Besides, he needed a distraction from his constant thoughts of Victoria. “If we wish to talk about something amusing, let’s move on to the topic of your engagement to Rowena. I turn my back for a moment and suddenly you are engaged? Are you out of your mind?” Kit’s arm ached and he knew he was being grumpy, but he couldn’t help it. Besides, Sebastian deserved it. Who got engaged without first telling his best friend?
Sebastian stared at him. “Good God, man, settle yourself. You’re worse than an old woman.”
Kit shrugged. “I thought I would be the first to know if you had fallen head over heels, that’s all. I could have saved you from yourself. What happened to our agreement?”
Sebastian suddenly looked tired. He leaned closer to Kit and said under his breath, “I’m not in love with her. It’s a fake. A sham. She’s in love with someone else. It seems as if a scandal would have broken concerning her and her young man and, through a very opportune misunderstanding, I saved the day.” He looked distantly out the window. “It’s all rather comical, really.”
Kit blinked. Sebastian didn’t look amused but rather sad. Kit lowered his voice. “So you’re not in love?”
“Not anymore,” Sebastian said so quietly that Kit barely heard him.
He was confused. “Had you been in love with Rowena?”
Startled, Sebastian glanced up and smiled. “No. Of course not. Though the more I get to know her, the more I respect her.”
“You’re pretending to be engaged because you respect her?” Kit felt as though he was missing something elemental, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
Kit studied his friend as Sebastian busied himself with his breakfast. “Of course not. I just wanted someone to have a chance at love. Call me an old-fashioned romantic.”
This wasn’t his forte. Kit’s specialty was witty repartee, not serious discussion concerning matters of the heart, but the quiet desperation in Sebastian’s eyes moved him. “What happened with the woman you were in love with?”
“Her name was Prudence and she married someone else.”
Kit sat back in his seat. “Victoria’s Prudence?”
<
br /> Sebastian nodded, then cleared his throat. “How is Victoria anyway? I haven’t seen her since she got back from visiting her friends in London.”
Kit’s mind still reeled from Sebastian’s confession, but he could tell his friend no longer wished to discuss it. And no wonder. “I suppose Victoria is fine. She’s like a cat, always lands on her feet. I haven’t seen her since then either.”
Sebastian looked at him, curiosity evident in his eyes. “I thought you two were thick as thieves. What happened?”
Kit’s mind blanked. What had happened? Nothing, except he had been a cad and she’d called him out on it. Of course, if she had been like most girls, she would have forgiven him sweetly the moment he had apologized. But then, most girls bored him to death.
And Victoria did not. Ever.
He drummed the fingers of his left hand and then finally glanced up at Sebastian. “Difference of opinion.”
Sebastian whistled. “She got to you.”
Kit slammed his hands down on the table and then groaned as the pain shot up his broken arm. “She did not get to me,” he said through gritted teeth. “She’s a friend. That’s all.”
Sebastian raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? Because you were a much nicer person when she was around.”
Kit bristled. “I resent that remark.”
“All right. All right. She didn’t get to you. If she walked in the house right now, you would be unaffected. I get it.”
“Good,” Kit said shortly. “I would hate to beat you up with my cast.”
Sebastian pushed his plate away and the servant jumped into action, clearing it. “I suggest you make yourself scarce today. Mother’s taking calls all afternoon and I will no doubt have to pay my respects to her guests. You can convalesce in the library if you like. I’ll have a maid check up on you periodically to keep you in hot tea.”
Kit gave a shudder that was only partially put on. The thought of spending the afternoon with Sebastian’s mother and her cronies was chilling. He’d cozy up to the fire like an old man and read. His arm throbbed with pain and Kit hated taking the laudanum the doctor prescribed. He’d seen too many people become dependent on it.
But Kit couldn’t concentrate on the book once ensconced in the library. He had a crackling fire, all the fine literature he could read, and a hot cup of tea, but thoughts of that spoiled minx Victoria kept creeping into his mind. When had that argumentative, spoiled, selfish little chit of a woman gotten under his skin?
And more important, how could he get her out of his mind?
* * *
If Lady Summerset was surprised to find that all three of her young charges wished to go on calls with her that day, she didn’t show it, but then, Rowena reflected, her aunt wouldn’t stoop so low as to show her surprise.
Rowena was going because she desperately needed to confer with Sebastian about how they were going to break off their engagement. Elaine was along for moral support and because she didn’t want to miss anything that might be scandalous or exciting, and Victoria was going . . . Rowena frowned at the back of her little sister’s head. Why was Victoria going?
As if summoned, Victoria turned around in her seat. Because so many of them were going in the motorcar, one of them had to sit up with the driver, and Victoria had been the first to volunteer. “Who all are we going to see today, Auntie?”
Aunt Charlotte took a list out of the handbag she had tucked next to her. “The Kinkaids, the Honeywells, the Winthrops, and, of course, the Billingslys. We will go there last and stay for supper. It’s just going to be a few friends and family. We have so many wedding plans to discuss.”
She smiled at Rowena and Rowena smiled back weakly.
Wedding plans.
“Well, I think this is going to be such fun,” Elaine gushed from the seat next to her. “Everyone will make such a fuss over you.”
Rowena jabbed her surreptitiously in the ribs. Sometimes Elaine’s teasing got to be a bit much.
“Oh, don’t start nattering on, Elaine, or this drive will take forever,” Aunt Charlotte snapped.
Rowena could feel Elaine’s hurt and she wished she hadn’t poked her. She laid her head back against the leather seat. The slight throbbing in her temples told her it was going to be a very long afternoon, indeed.
She let the talk flow around her and concentrated instead on Jon. She remembered how he had kissed her before he had left, his lips seeking an answer to something unasked. Let Victoria worry about an engagement if she wanted to. Rowena knew Jon loved her. Things were more complicated than Victoria knew. It would all work out eventually.
She heard Victoria’s voice, talking to her aunt in an animated way. What was she speaking of? She opened her eyes.
“You know, Auntie, I am so excited about this season and not just because of the extra fun of Rowena’s engagement festivities. I’ve never done a full proper season before, did you know that? Do you think I have enough dresses? I know I should wear dark dresses for most of it, but Father wouldn’t want me to stay in mourning forever. Do you think I should order some new clothes?”
Rowena’s mouth fell open. Her sister hated the season and thought it a complete and utter waste of time. She tried to catch Victoria’s eye, but her sister was staring fixedly at her aunt.
Aunt Charlotte greeted this barrage in the same even manner with which she greeted everything. “Why don’t you and I go through your dresses tomorrow? Surely you will want at least four new ball gowns if you are going to do a proper season. Elaine ordered two more last fall and all her new accessories, so she is ready, and of course Rowena will need an entire trousseau.”
She frowned. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before. They will charge a fortune to have everything made up so quickly, but you will both need new gowns for the season.”
Victoria smiled as if excited by the prospect of endless fittings, but Rowena knew better. Though they both loved pretty things, fittings were their special pet hate, to be avoided at all costs, and now her sister was practically begging for them. Rowena narrowed her eyes. Something was going on. First Victoria’s excitement about coming to do calls and now this? She would corner her to ask the first moment they were alone, Rowena decided. Find out exactly what was going on in her sister’s head.
That moment was more difficult to find than she’d anticipated. Everyone wanted to see the antique family engagement ring Sebastian had given her. She’d balked at wearing it at first, but Sebastian had insisted, to keep up the ruse. “You might be the first Billingsly woman to wear it who was actually in love,” he’d joked. The thought depressed her.
While Rowena was swept away into a sea of wedding conversations at the first call, Victoria mingled with an intent that puzzled her sister. Before Rowena could get a chance to corner Victoria, Aunt Charlotte hurried them all back into the car for the next visit, where the sequence were repeated. She might have to wait until she got to the Billingslys’. Perhaps she could ask for some time to rest before supper and take her suddenly social sister with her.
Sebastian met them at the door and kissed her hand warmly. “And how is my beautiful fiancée today?” he asked with a teasing smile.
She wanted to hit him. He was enjoying this. But then, remembering how sad he had been the first time she’d come to Eddelson, she decided she’d much rather see him smiling.
As before, Rowena was rushed off into a whirl of wedding discourse, but because the groom’s mother was involved, everything seemed to take on a greater importance. Her every opinion, no matter how thoughtlessly given, was taken as gospel and commented on by either her aunt or Sebastian. After Rowena had been told, in no uncertain terms, that orange sherbet was absolutely not the same color as orange blossom, Elaine took matters into her own hands.
“I’m sure Rowena is getting a bit tired, as am I. Could we rest and freshen up before dinner?”
“That would be wonderful.” Rowena tried to look pathetic and wan.
“Of course. Larson wi
ll show you both to one of the bedrooms.”
“Victoria, would you join me?” Rowena asked over her shoulder as she turned to follow the butler.
Victoria, who’d been chatting up one Lady Worthington, raised her eyebrows. “But I’m not really tired, Ro, and I’m having such a lovely chat.” She flashed the woman in the lavender tea gown next to her a beatific smile.
The woman patted her knee. “Go ahead, my dear. Your sister probably wants to talk about the wedding.”
Victoria gave way reluctantly but not before she surreptitiously passed the woman a card. The trio followed the butler to a large bedroom overlooking the same sculpture garden she and Sebastian had walked through the first time she was here. A large ornate bed decorated the middle and there were several comfortable sofas and chaise lounges in front of a cheerful fire.
Elaine lay down on a striped chaise and waved her hand at the others. “Relax, for God’s sake. It’s not even my wedding and I feel like I’m being hounded to death. Everyone thinks I know more than I’m telling. Of course, I do, but I can’t tell them that. Can you imagine?”
Rowena reclined on a sofa and pulled a throw over herself. “It’s not even a real wedding and I feel the same way.”
Victoria glared at her and then plopped down into the chair closest to Rowena. “I don’t understand why I had to come. I was having a perfectly fine time.”
Rowena flipped over on her stomach and eyed her sister. Victoria’s health had improved since she’d moved to Summerset, but she had become quieter and more thoughtful. Now she had a secret, which wasn’t that unusual. Victoria had always harbored secrets like they were pearls to be treasured, but this one was different. She suddenly seemed self-assured, almost adult.
“And that is exactly why I wanted to see you. Where is all this love for polite society coming from? If anything, you’ve hated doing your social duty even more than I have, and now you’re going on calls and asking Aunt Charlotte to introduce you around? Ball gowns and fittings? The season? Really?”
Victoria’s eyes shifted away from hers. “We all have to have something, Rowena. You have your flyboy and a fake engagement and I have a newfound love of gaiety. The Coterie will be at most of those functions, right?” She looked at Elaine, who nodded in confirmation. “See, my new set is going to be going. Why wouldn’t I want to spend as much time with them as possible?”