by Farr, Diane
“I do not enjoy confrontation.”
Spineless, thought Lilah in disgust. It was clear from the look of reserve on Eugenia’s face that she had frequently disagreed with Drake, but had never asserted her own opinion. She disliked confrontation so much that she would rather knuckle under than oppose a more forceful personality. Just like Papa!
Still, Lilah would try to be diplomatic. “No one enjoys confrontation,” she said soothingly. “But people like you—and my father, for that matter—are suited by nature to avoid it. Drake and I cannot control our tempers and must, therefore, marry someone who can.”
Eugenia’s lips tightened. “How pleasant it must be,” she said tartly, “to have that luxury.”
Lilah was startled. Perhaps Eugenia had some spirit after all. “What luxury do you mean?”
“Do you feel no obligation to consider the feelings of others? I call that a luxury. I, for one, cannot afford it. I have never had the privilege of living with my will unopposed, my opinions unchallenged, and my every whim indulged.”
Lilah sank back into her chair, intrigued. The worm, it seemed, was turning. “Is that the way Drake and I seem to you?” she asked.
“Frankly? Yes,” said Eugenia. Her voice was still well-modulated, but two spots of color had appeared high on her cheekbones and her backbone was very straight. “A man who has enjoyed high rank since infancy, and a cherished only daughter, are apparently reared with similar notions of their own importance.”
“That may be,” said Lilah, nettled. “Or it may be that we are born with our temperaments and cannot change them.”
“Forgive me, but I think you believe that because it is more comfortable. If you convince yourself that you cannot change, you feel no obligation to try.”
Lilah frowned. She must not let Eugenia goad her into losing her temper. “We are wandering rather far from the point,” she said crisply. “Whatever the reason, whether a forceful personality is natural or induced by childhood indulgence, I think you will agree that some people are more fiery than others. More impulsive. Less controlled. But that is not to say that they are monsters. I have not known Drake long, but I see many virtues in him.”
Amusement relaxed Eugenia’s features. “By all means, let us talk of Drake,” she offered. “What virtues do you see in him? Tell me, and I will let you know if you are near the mark or not. I have known him all my life.”
Lilah smiled a little. At last, the conversation was heading in a direction she could steer. “I am not convinced that long acquaintance makes you see him more clearly,” she said, assuming a worldly-wise expression. “In fact, I would not be a bit surprised to find that it has blinded you to his best features.” She studied Eugenia for a moment, head cocked to one side. Eugenia was a little too sure of herself, Lilah decided. A little too placid. A little too remote. “Would it surprise you to learn that you have overlooked his virtues? You might very well be carrying about, in your head, a picture of Drake formed in your childhood—a picture he no longer resembles at all.”
“A case of familiarity breeding contempt?”
“Something like that,” said Lilah, pleased that Eugenia understood her. “For I cannot imagine a young woman who wishes to marry, wishing to marry my father—when she could have a man like Drake.”
Eugenia appeared surprised. “Does Drake seem, to you, a superior choice?”
Lilah’s eyes widened in amazement. “Vastly superior! Beyond comparison. Eugenia, for heaven’s sake—you are not blind! All other things being equal—which they are not!—surely you would rather marry a young and attractive man.”
A very odd look descended on Eugenia’s face. “You consider Drake attractive?”
On this subject, Lilah could speak with authority. “Excessively attractive,” she said fervently. “Extraordinarily attractive.” Eugenia’s expression was so strange, Lilah felt she should elaborate. “I know my father is reckoned a handsome man, but he cannot compare to Drake! Drake must turn heads wherever he goes. I can’t imagine women seeing him without being struck by it. His style is distinctive. Unique. His features are strong and powerful—but aristocratic, too. There is nothing coarse or common about him. One can tell at a glance that he is a man of breeding. His coloring, too, is so extraordinarily striking—that marvelous chestnut hair! And there is something so compelling about his face—”
“You would not call his features harsh?”
“Harsh? By no means! He scowls more often than he should—”
“More often than not, some would say,” mused Eugenia.
“But his eyes…” Lilah shivered. “Those deep-set, amber eyes. In some lights, they look golden. His eyes are unforgettable.”
“They are certainly unusual,” Eugenia admitted.
“And there is something about a very large man that appeals to one,” Lilah confided. “On some primal level.”
“You do not think his size is intimidating? A bit overwhelming?”
“Certainly not. He is not a giant,” said Lilah indignantly. “And you are taller than I, so if he does not strike me as too tall he should seem just right to you.”
“Logic rarely applies in these matters,” Eugenia murmured.
“But Drake’s qualities go far beyond his physical attributes. He is more than merely handsome. And I am not speaking of material considerations, such as rank and fortune! I am speaking of the man himself.” Lilah’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm. “It is rare to meet a man of such keen intellect, don’t you think? He has strong passions, sharp intelligence, a sense of humor—and, I think, high principles. Pray correct me if I am wrong.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.
Eugenia shook her head. “No, you are quite right. Drake is all these things and more. He does, in fact, have a strict sense of right and wrong and is a bit of a stickler for principle. In his way. And he does follow the rules…so long as the rules are of his own making.”
“Admirable,” said Lilah promptly. “All admirable. After all, no one respects a man who slavishly follows the rules of others.” She began ticking points off on her fingers. “He can be elegant—when the occasion warrants—but he is never overdressed or fussy. He is extremely observant. Witty. An excellent conversationalist.”
“Oh, yes,” Eugenia agreed. “Drake is never at a loss.”
“And there we come to the crux of the issue.” Lilah feared she was gushing like a schoolgirl, but could not help it. How else could she make Eugenia see Drake as he really was? “Drake is the most exciting person I have ever met. Whatever difficulties might arise in your married life, you would never, ever, be bored! Perhaps you do not appreciate this about him, having known him so long, but he is truly a remarkable man. It is rare indeed to meet with such stimulating company.”
Eugenia’s expression had become thoughtful again. She seemed to be studying Lilah with great interest. “I had not realized,” she said mildly, “that Drake’s entertainment value might prove an asset to married life. Might it not be exhausting, to be forever in the company of such an exciting person?”
“Oh, no!” said Lilah impulsively. “It would be wonderful.”
“Even if he continually tried to assert mastery over his wife?”
“He wouldn’t mean anything by it,” Lilah assured her. “It’s just his way. He tries to assert mastery over everyone. Just put him in his place from time to time. It’s good for him.”
“I see.” Eugenia seemed to be biting back laughter. “Well! Thank you, Lilah. You have given me something to think about.”
Chapter 14
Lilah flew down the passage, eager to share the news with Drake. She had made Eugenia think! That was progress. She hoped he had had similar luck, talking to Papa. If Eugenia reached a point where she was willing to break the engagement, but Papa was unwilling, the situation could become even more complicated than it now was.
When she reached the entrance hall, still running, she collided with her father. Lilah gasped and grabbed at his coat. Despite her surpr
ise, Papa’s guilty look did not escape her. Neither did the fact that he was dressed for travel.
“Papa! Where are you going?”
“Hallo, hallo, Lilah,” he said hurriedly. “No time to discuss it, I’m afraid. Must be off! Pressing matters, my dear, pressing matters. I’ll see you again in a day or two.”
“What! Am I to stay here without you?”
“Only for a couple of days, kitten.” He patted her anxiously. “Miss Pickens will take good care of you. And Mrs. Peabody, of course. An excellent hostess; most attentive. Yes, yes, you’ll be fine. And I won’t be gone long, my dear. I promise you that.”
Lilah’s expression darkened ominously. “Papa.” She placed her fists on her hips. “I have a few things I particularly wish to say to you!”
Sir Horace blanched. “Yes, of course, dear child. I’m sure you do,” he said earnestly, backing toward the door. “Later!”
“But, Papa—”
“Can’t keep the horses waiting, chickadee. We’ll talk when I come back. You can say whatever you wish to say, then; we’ll have a nice, long chat. But not now!” He dashed toward the door, then halted, turning round to point an accusing finger at her. “And mind, now, Lilah—behave yourself while I am gone! I do not entirely trust Lord Drakesley. He seems a most peculiar young gentleman. Making advances to my Eugenia, directly after pawing you—which I saw him do with my own eyes! I didn’t care to say anything in front of the Peabodys—he’s a near relation of theirs, you know—but I shouldn’t wonder if he’s deranged.”
And with that Parthian shot he was gone, racing outside like a rabbit fleeing hounds. Lilah stared after him, mouth agape.
She had never seen her father in such a state. On the other hand, Papa had never done anything like this before—contract an engagement, and keep it secret from her! Knowing how he shrank from confrontation, she supposed he must be quaking in his boots at the thought of the fireworks in store for him—if Lilah ever got him alone. No wonder, then, that he was going to extraordinary lengths to keep his distance from her.
Behind her, Drake suddenly dashed into the hall. His scowl was black as thunder. “Was that Sir Horace, going out the door?” he demanded.
“Yes, it was.” Lilah was fuming. “Only fancy! He is leaving us for a few days. Did you ever hear anything like it?”
“Blast!” Drake strode past her and flung open the door. Lilah joined him. Together, they watched her father’s berline bowling swiftly down the drive. “I’ve been chasing your wretched father all over the house,” said Drake grimly. “He’s too fast for me.”
Lilah gave a little cry of dismay. “Then you haven’t had speech with him at all?”
“No, confound the man! Not a word.”
“Kindly watch your language,” said Lilah stiffly. “It is my father you are abusing.”
“Sorry! But of all the crazy starts I ever witnessed—”
The Peabodys’ butler stood on the steps below them, having just closed the carriage door on Sir Horace moments before. He now coughed discreetly. Two pairs of angry eyes swiveled to look at him. He bowed. “May I be of any help, my lord? Miss Chadwick?”
“No,” Drake growled. “It seems you’ve done enough.”
“Very good, my lord.” The butler moved to go back in the house.
“Hold a moment! There may be one thing you can do for me, Fimber.” Drake bent a fierce glare on him. “Do you know where Sir Horace has gone?”
Fimber cast his eyes discreetly down. “I’m sure I couldn’t say, my lord.”
“Hell and the devil blast it!” Drake pulled out a coin and tossed it to the butler, who deftly caught it. “Information, man! And quickly.”
The butler palmed the coin without looking at it, as if the exchange of sordid cash for his services offended his delicate sensibilities. He fixed his disinterested gaze on the middle distance. “It is my impression, my lord, from a word he dropped to the driver, that Sir Horace is en route to Uxbridge.”
Drake stared blankly at the butler. “Uxbridge. What the devil for? What’s in Uxbridge?”
“His sister lives in Uxbridge,” supplied Lilah, tugging insistently on Drake’s arm. “For heaven’s sake, let him go! What are we to do—send runners after him? We will have to wait, and speak to him when he returns.”
Grumbling, Drake returned to the house with her. “I’ve no wish to keep ragging on your father, Lilah, but—” He clamped his mouth down as if biting back the end of his sentence.
“I appreciate your restraint, but I assure you it is wasted on me,” she said darkly. “If you are thinking what I am thinking, we are in perfect agreement. This trip to Uxbridge arose rather suddenly, did it not?” She shook her head in disgust. “Aunt Jane will welcome Papa without question, whether he warns her of his arrival or not. It’s my belief he is running away. What did you do to frighten him?”
“Nothing, upon my honor!” He raked his hand through his hair. Lilah was becoming rather fond of the gesture. “I asked if I could speak to him privately for a moment. On a matter of grave importance.”
“Did you glower at him while you said it?”
“What do you mean?”
Lilah stifled a laugh behind her hand. He was glowering at her now, with his hair standing all on end like a maniac. She could just imagine the terrifying effect he must have had on poor Papa. “Never mind,” she said kindly. “You cannot help terrorizing lesser mortals. At least I was able to make a little progress with Eugenia.”
He shot a keen glance at her. “Were you, by Jove? What happened?”
She folded her lips demurely. “The correct response is, ‘Thank you, Lilah. You’re a marvel.’”
“That remains to be seen.” His grim tone was belied by the glint of amusement in his eyes. “Did she agree to marry me?”
“Not quite,” admitted Lilah. “But she said she will think on it.”
Drake looked skeptical. “Sounds to me like she fobbed you off.”
“No such thing! I sang your praises, and she told me I had given her something to think about.”
He looked both startled and appreciative. “You sang my praises? I’d have given a monkey to hear that. What did you say?”
Lilah felt her color change and looked away from him, trying to hide her face from his scrutiny. “For heaven’s sake, try for a little conduct,” she scolded. “What I said to her is neither here nor there. The point is, I made her think.”
Drake scratched his chin, pondering this. “Well,” he said at last. “I hope that indicates progress. Eugenia’s a dark horse, though. She’s often told me she’ll think about something, but I’ve learned that unless she tells you what she’s thinking, you generally discover at the end that your arguments have had no effect on her.”
Lilah frowned. “Really? How vexatious. In fact, I call that a bit filthy.”
“It’s no more filthy than bolting off to Uxbridge,” he said cynically.
Lilah sighed. “That’s our problem in a nutshell,” she agreed. “To be perfectly frank, Drake, we are dealing with two persons who are afraid of us. One hesitates to put it as baldly as that—”
“No, one doesn’t. Not this one, at any rate. You’re quite right. And they’re winning the game, brat.” He almost grinned. “Their avoidance of disputes is so alien to you and me, we are finding it hard to anticipate their next moves.”
Lilah decided to overlook his choice of epithet, since he said it in such a friendly tone. She regarded him, chin tipped sideways. For a man who had been thwarted in love, he appeared remarkably relaxed. “You speak of defeat, but I am not deceived,” she remarked. “You expect to win.”
“I do indeed.”
For some reason, this annoyed her. “Well, then?” she said challengingly. “Why don’t you go and speak with her? Papa is out of your way now. It seems to me the time is ripe.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think I should let the ideas you planted in her brain take root?”
“To what purpose?
You have already told me that arguments have little effect on her. If she is inclined to accept you, she will accept you now.” She looked at him from under her lashes. “Are you afraid?” she purred.
The provocation in her voice made him look at her. Their eyes met and clashed, and, to Lilah’s dismay, the treacherous heat returned to flash and simmer between them. He actually moved to touch her, and she was sure, for half a heartbeat, that he was about to take her in his arms. He immediately seemed to recollect himself, however, and she saw his fists clench at his sides. “I would dearly love,” he said evenly, “to take you over my knee someday.”
His words were shocking enough on their own merits. The hidden meaning she sensed behind them made gooseflesh rise on her arms—whether from anger or something else, she did not know. “If you ever so much as think of such a thing,” she said through her teeth, “I’ll make you rue the day.”
He leaned over her, so close she could feel warmth radiating from his body. “I have thought of it,” he informed her, “almost continually since the moment we met. And I do, in fact, rue the day.”
She bristled. “You rue the day you met me?”
“Does that surprise you?”
“I never heard anything more uncivil! If merely being acquainted with me is such a thorn in your side—”
“It is. Believe me, it is.”
“—I suggest you propose to Eugenia without delay. If she takes you, you can hide behind her skirts. Marriage to a plaster saint ought to cure you of your violent impulses. Of every kind.”
Soundless laughter shook him, but there was anger in his face. “You little witch. That’s exactly what I’ll do. I’m sick to death of violent impulses.” And then, with three quick strides, he was gone.
Lilah stood in the hall and stared at the doorway through which Drake had vanished, furious. How dare he threaten her with bodily harm? How dare he threaten her with humiliation? A spanking, no less! As if she were a naughty toddler!
She realized she was breathing through her teeth, panting with rage. She struggled to calm herself, pressing one hand against her rib cage and breathing deeply.