An Heiress at Heart

by Jennifer Delamere

  “Tell me, which of the displays have you enjoyed most?” Freddie asked.

  She turned to see Freddie’s dark eyes upon her. “I suppose the gems,” she replied, still disturbed by the sight of Molly and saying the first thing that came to her mind.

  “The gems, of course,” he said with a satisfied smile, looking as though she had just thrown him a prize. “The Hope Diamond is quite spectacular, is it not? It was in France for many years, until it disappeared during the revolution. It finally resurfaced in England some years later. No wonder you favor it, Mrs. Somerville. It seems you and the diamond share similar histories.”

  Again the look, the eyes boring into hers. Memories of their time together in France flashed, unwanted, through Lizzie’s mind. They had spent two weeks in Paris, before moving on to Vienna. What an irrevocable step she had taken there, in that elegant hotel near the Opéra. But she had been so in love with him then. Swept away by desire and ignorance.

  Lizzie forced her breathing to stay even, tempering the panic. She sighed elaborately and shook her head. “I do hope to see Europe one day. Perhaps Grandmamma and I will go there together.”

  “You would find Paris delightful. I know I did.” He took her hand in his. “Perhaps sometime you will tell me the real story of all that you did since leaving London.”

  Her pulse thrummed against the pressure of his hand. “The real story?”

  “This little game is… interesting. But we both know you have been to France.”

  She pulled her hand away and sniffed haughtily. “Are you calling me a liar, sir?”

  Amusement flashed in his cold eyes. “I would never accuse a lady of such a thing. Let’s just say that women are known to, shall we say, forget aspects of their past that they would rather not remember.” He leaned back in his chair. “Come now, my dear. Let us have the truth out between us.”

  She regarded him steadily. “The truth is that you are forward and rude,” she said with indignation. “Since you are James’s friend, I cannot ignore you. But I must ask you to behave in a more gentlemanlike manner.”

  He bowed his head. “I humbly beg your pardon, my lady, if I have offended. It certainly was not my intention. I do hope this can be forgotten, and that we can be friends.”

  His swift reversal took Lizzie off guard. He was a nimble opponent, always keeping his adversary on uncertain ground. What was he up to?

  She did not have to wait long for the answer. Freddie looked over her shoulder and remarked drily, “What a pleasant surprise. It appears we may be joined by Lord Somerville.”

  Chapter 25

  I believe I see Mrs. Somerville seated under that elm tree,” Lucinda remarked.

  She and Geoffrey had just completed a tour of the new display from France. Her parents had separated from them, and they had all planned to meet by the fountain in one hour’s time.

  Geoffrey’s joy upon seeing Ria again was almost immediately doused by his annoyance that she was sitting with Freddie Hightower. Ria had said James planned to bring her here, and yet he was nowhere in sight. Geoffrey would have to give James a serious lecture about allowing Ria to go out unchaperoned with such a man.

  He would not have kept away from Ria if he’d known Hightower would worm his way into her life so rapidly. The man had a knack for finding vulnerable women. As a widow with high social standing, Ria would be an appealing target. Geoffrey thought he had given her ample warning about Hightower, and yet here she was with him. Was she really so utterly lacking in common sense?

  No, he decided. He could tell at a glance that she was not enjoying herself. She looked exceedingly uncomfortable. Whatever Freddie was trying, Geoffrey would make sure it went no further.

  “Shall we go and speak to them?” Lucinda enquired.

  “Yes,” he replied with determination. “Most definitely.”

  As they made their way through the crowd, Lucinda said, “I will enjoy talking with Mrs. Somerville again. She came to call last week. She is a kind woman, and has such a good head on her shoulders.”

  This was high praise indeed, for Lucinda did not open up easily to strangers. Ria must have done something to win her over. He felt an unaccountable surge of pride for Ria’s sake. It would be good for them to become friends, he reasoned. After all, they might one day be related, if he married Lucinda. The thought ought to give him satisfaction, but it merely left him with a hollow, unsettled feeling. Ria always left him in an upheaval. He was going through it again now as they drew nearer. She always exceeded his richest remembrances of how beautiful she was.

  Ria greeted them warmly and extended her hand to Lucinda. “Miss Cardington, how nice to see you again.”

  She appeared calmer now, having only small red stains on her cheeks to signal the agitation Geoffrey had seen moments before. Her apparent composure was the only thing that kept him from immediately confronting Hightower about his intentions.

  Hightower rose from his chair. He was polite as all of the formal greetings were gone through, but Geoffrey saw that he was irritated by their presence. He was glad of it.

  Ria extended her hand to Geoffrey. He grasped it, bringing him just close enough to catch the scent of roses in her hair. He had an urge to close his eyes and breathe in deeply. Realizing Freddie’s sharp eyes were watching, he quickly let go of Ria’s hand. He set his face into a stern expression. “Where is James? You said he would be bringing you here.”

  “He did bring me,” Ria replied. “He has gone in search of drinks for us.”

  At least James hadn’t entirely thrown her to the wolves. Or in this case, wolf.

  Hightower offered his chair to Lucinda. There was an awkward moment while she was being seated, when her dress caught on a chair leg. Geoffrey was sorry to see her embarrassment at having a bit of leg exposed. But Hightower’s wily charm somehow managed to set her at ease. He even whispered a few words that brought a tiny smile to her face.

  “I’ll just tell James we will need two more lemonades,” Hightower said. “I trust I may safely leave the ladies in your care, Lord Somerville?”

  “You need have no worries on that account,” Geoffrey replied. He did not bother to hide his dislike of the man. It would have been impossible anyway.

  Hightower gave him a sardonic grin before going off in search of James.

  As the three of them discussed what they had seen during the course of the morning, Ria kept looking back and forth between Geoffrey and Lucinda. She had heard the gossip, then. Was she already picturing him and Lucinda as a couple? How did she feel about it? Geoffrey would have preferred it if she had not seemed so open to the idea. But there was presumably no one in England who did not think it was an excellent match.

  Geoffrey noticed that Ria kept glancing over at the fountain. He tried once or twice to follow her gaze, but could see nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps she was simply enjoying how lovely it was.

  James and Hightower returned, each bearing two glasses of lemonade.

  “Here we are!” James announced. “Compliments of the Messrs. Schweppes.” He handed a glass to Ria, and Hightower gave his glasses to Geoffrey and Lucinda.

  “But Mr. Hightower,” Lucinda objected, “you are left with nothing to drink.”

  “Do not concern yourself, Miss Cardington,” Hightower said. “It appears I am the odd man out today. But no matter. I must be going. I have another appointment.”

  “Surely it can wait?” James asked.

  “I’m afraid not.” He took Ria’s hand. “I look forward to seeing you at Lady Thornborough’s dinner party next week.”

  “It will be a pleasure,” Ria replied.

  She and Hightower locked gazes, and Geoffrey had the feeling that some intense private message was passing between them. He did not think it was attraction; something in Ria’s look made that abundantly plain. Whatever messages they were sending, Geoffrey did not like it. He would not allow Hightower to make inroads of any kind. He could not resist saying, “It appears we shall all be
at the dinner party.”

  Hightower turned to assess him. With a knowing look and a nod toward Lucinda, he said, “You will be escorting Miss Cardington, I presume?”

  This remark only flustered Lucinda, so Geoffrey answered, “All of Miss Cardington’s family will be there.”

  “Really? How fortunate,” Hightower answered without enthusiasm. He gave them all a bow and took his leave.

  *

  It was with no small amount of relief that Lizzie watched Freddie go. Geoffrey’s fortuitous arrival seemed to have hastened his departure. Although she could not forget she would be facing Freddie all too soon at the dinner party, she was grateful for today’s reprieve.

  Lizzie tried to think of something congenial to say to Miss Cardington, but her mind was filled with less amiable thoughts. Geoffrey had made no effort to see her since the night of the ball. She knew there were many demands on his time, and yet she was foolishly irked that he had managed to find room in his day to escort Miss Cardington on a pleasure tour.

  How many times had she returned to thoughts of that night! His look, his words, his touch—these memories sustained her as she kept reaffirming to herself that she was taking the best possible course of action. She was desperate to spend as much time with Geoffrey as she could, to share every possible moment before she must take the steps that would change everything.

  Had he been thinking of that night at all? She couldn’t tell. His face bore the maddeningly controlled expression she’d often seen on him. Had that moment of deep connection they shared been only a figment of her imagination?

  Surprisingly, it was the normally reticent Lucinda who spoke first. “Have you seen the photography exhibit?” she asked. When Lizzie answered in the affirmative, Lucinda’s face lit up. “It’s one of the most exciting things here, is it not? I believe photography is the next great art form.”

  James had been idly scanning the crowd, but his attention now settled on Lucinda. “Art form?” he repeated, intrigued. “It is the technical processes that I find so captivating.”

  “It is a perfect blend of art and science,” Lucinda replied. “The ideal metaphor for our scientific age.”

  Lizzie thought Lucinda looked much handsomer when she was engaged on a topic that interested her. James must have perceived this, too, and he regarded Lucinda with a newfound fascination. In no time, the two of them were ensconced in a discussion that Lizzie found impossible to follow. It seemed to baffle Geoffrey as well, and he gave Lizzie a bemused smile.

  “How naughty of James to waylay Miss Cardington’s interest from you,” Lizzie whispered.

  Geoffrey nodded. “We are left on our own, it seems.”

  He looked more than a little pleased at this prospect, however, and Lizzie took a sip of lemonade to hide the burst of pleasure this gave her. “I am glad you will be coming to Grandmamma’s dinner party next week. I have missed—” She pulled up short. “That is, I shall look forward to seeing you again.”

  Geoffrey guessed what she had been about to say. “Have you missed me? I am sorry I have not been able to call. I have a clerk who has been helping me organize my business affairs, and unfortunately he seems to have overestimated the actual number of hours in a day.”

  His manner softened as he said this, the hard control she’d seen earlier easing up a bit. Lizzie took a moment to savor looking at him, to drink in the joy of being here with him, one of the few precious moments she was storing away for a much more sorrowful day.

  “May I surmise that you were not offended by the things I asked you—about my brothers, I mean?”

  “No,” she said. “I wanted to share those things with you. However, later I became worried that perhaps they had been unhelpful, stirred up unhappy memories—”

  “Quite the contrary,” he interrupted. “They helped me very much.”

  Their conversation seemed like nothing on the surface, within earshot of James and Lucinda. But Lizzie knew the current running beneath their words was deeper than anyone else could imagine.

  Geoffrey took her hand. “I think, I hope, we are friends still, Ria.”

  Friends. Given who she was, both in her real and pretended identities, she could expect nothing more. Something in her heart twisted and tumbled, knowing even this would not last. “I—yes, of course we are friends.” She licked her suddenly dry lips and tried again. “I am honored.”

  Something of her disappointment must have come through in her voice. Geoffrey gave her a quizzical look. He sent a quick glance to James and Lucinda, but they were still deep in discussion. He opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he had been about to say was preempted by the sudden arrival of Lord and Lady Cardington.

  “There you are,” Lady Cardington boomed. “We have been looking for you this half hour or more.” She fanned herself. “The crowds! I did not think there were this many people in all of London.”

  James helped Lucinda to rise. She extended her hand and said warmly, “I so enjoyed this time together. Perhaps we might talk more at Lady Thornborough’s dinner party?”

  James gave her a regretful smile, as one might give a child to whom he must deny a requested sweet. “It would be lovely, I have no doubt. However, it is entirely possible Miss Emily will decide to carry the conversation in other directions.”

  The mention of her sister, who was seeking James’s interest for far different reasons, brought a look of annoyance to Lucinda’s face. “Emily will be quite cross to discover she missed seeing you here today.”

  James leaned in and said, as if they were sharing a secret, “Perhaps you ought not to tell her.”

  “Quite right,” Lady Cardington asserted. “It will only put her in a pout, and then she will be insufferable for days.”

  Geoffrey offered his hand to Lizzie. “Until next week, then.”

  Lizzie nodded, trying not to dwell too much on the warmth of his hand or the way she felt oddly unmoored when he released it.

  Geoffrey took Lucinda’s arm, and they followed Lord and Lady Cardington back through the crowds toward the entrance. Lizzie was struck with a pang of remorse as she watched the familiar way Geoffrey leaned in toward Lucinda to catch something she was saying.

  “What a charming interlude that was,” James remarked.

  “Yes,” Lizzie agreed, unable to repress a sigh. “It was.” One of the few short interludes that were left to her.

  She glanced over to the fountain. Molly was still there. She sent a tiny smile in Lizzie’s direction, but did not approach. She seemed only curious, not intent on doing Lizzie harm. Lizzie was relieved the girl kept her distance. But as Lizzie and James left the area to continue their tour of the building, she gave Molly the tiniest nod as she passed by. Perhaps, Lizzie thought, she might be able to seek help from the Weathers family if she ended up on the streets after her big unveiling. Assuming she did not end up in jail—or worse.

  Chapter 26

  James informs me that you play beautifully, Mrs. Somerville.” Freddie Hightower’s voice carried over a lull in the dinner conversation. “I hope you will favor us with a tune after dinner?”

  Ria blanched.

  It was not the first time Geoffrey had seen her look uncomfortable this evening, and he was certain Hightower was the cause of it. Lady Thornborough had seated Hightower at the opposite end of the polished mahogany table that easily accommodated the twenty guests in attendance. Despite this, he had been peppering Ria with questions all evening. If this was his way of winning over women, it was clearly not working with Ria. She answered his questions politely, but often attempted to turn the topic of conversation toward himself or someone else.

  She took a sip of wine before replying to Hightower’s latest salvo. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I cannot play this evening. I am too much out of practice. I did not play a note in Australia. I have forgotten the finer points of the instrument.”

  “Surely it will come back to you,” Hightower urged.

  Ria set down her glass and gave ano
ther of her giggles, the kind that emanated from her only when James or Hightower was around. This kind of behavior seemed to come and go, as though now that Ria was home in England, her younger, sillier self was trying to reassert its dominance over the woman she had become in Australia. “Now that you have put me on the spot, I shall have to practice. But I would spare Grandmamma’s guests this evening.”

  “A wise decision,” Lady Thornborough said. “There is nothing I abhor more than badly played music.”

  “I am disappointed,” Hightower told Ria. “However, I will hold you to your promise to play for us soon.”

  Geoffrey found himself irked at this exchange. Why should Hightower be so intent on hearing Ria play? Only sheer politeness kept Geoffrey from ordering Hightower to stop barraging her with questions. He’d lost count of how many times he’d been required to suppress this urge since the dinner began.

  “Perhaps Lord Somerville will read to us?” This suggestion came from Lucinda Cardington. She sent an admiring glance in his direction. “You have a splendid reading voice.”

  “Thank you,” Geoffrey said, grateful for anything to turn the attention of the guests away from the way Hightower was distressing Ria. “You are most kind.”

  Lady Cardington nodded with approval at her daughter’s suggestion. “What a wonderful idea! I am sure we would find Lord Somerville’s reading morally uplifting.”

  “Do not ask Geoffrey to read from one of his old sermons,” James said. Smiling at Lucinda’s sister, Emily, who was seated on his right, he added, “I refuse to think about weighty matters at a dinner party, when there are livelier subjects to contemplate.”

  Across from James, Miss Edith Shaw tittered and turned her large eyes to James. “Then what on earth shall we do?” she asked, as though only James could have the solution to such a difficult problem.