The Archaeologist's Daughter (Regency Rendezvous Book 3)

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The Archaeologist's Daughter (Regency Rendezvous Book 3) Page 7

by Summer Hanford


  Lanora relaxed at the sight of them. In her experience, city folk baulked when confronted with a swarm of scruffy country dogs. Some of the ladies who’d visited when Lanora and Aunt Edith first arrived in town had even screamed. Lanora smiled at the memory.

  Her anticipation turned to surprise as Lord William tossed the book to the table and dropped to a knee in the middle of the parlor. He pulled off his gloves then rubbed unkempt ears and patted shaggy heads. Stubby terrier tails thumped. There wasn’t a single growl. The pups were entranced. Only Aunt Edith’s Skye Terrier, always reserved, remained at her side.

  “I heard you’ve prize stock, Lady Edith,” he said. “They don’t disappoint. Irish, Scottish, Welsh and, of course, some fine English lads.”

  Wonderful. He liked terriers, and they apparently adored him. Her aunt would take that as a sign.

  “And lasses.” Aunt Edith smiled benignly down at her pups. “You are correct, Lord William, Lanora should learn to waltz. I hear it’s all the thing with you young folks. I believe she’s been teaching several of the girls to play. I’m sure one of them can manage a waltz. Come, the pianoforte is in the large parlor.”

  “Splendid,” Lord William said, a hint of surprised flickered across his face. With a few more pats for the pups, he stood, then grinned down at her.

  “Fine,” Lanora snapped. She frowned at his smile. He thought by winning over her aunt and the pups he could win her, did he? But…why? What on earth possessed a man like Lord William to wish to win her over?

  He gestured for Lanora to precede him as Aunt Edith led the way to the large parlor. Not bothering with London manners, Aunt Edith raised her voice as they walked and called for the maid who was most accomplished on the piano. Lanora squared her shoulders, refusing to be embarrassed by her aunt’s behavior.

  The maid came scurrying as they entered the parlor.

  “Ah, there’s a dear girl,” Aunt Edith said. She settled into a highbacked chair. The ancient fabric of her riding habit rustled as her terriers arrayed themselves at her feet, several laying on her hem. “Be a good girl and play a waltz. Lord William is here to teach Lanora to dance.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The girl curtsied, hardly able to drag her eyes from Lord William as she crossed to the piano.

  He looked about the cream and blue parlor, his gaze skimming across the furniture. “May I reposition the chairs?”

  “As you see fit,” Aunt Edith said.

  “I can call a footman,” Lanora offered, watching him approach a sturdy armchair.

  The look he cast her was amused. “That won’t be necessary.”

  Lanora couldn’t help but watch as he easily lifted the chair and carried it to the side of the room. Several more followed. His shoulders bunched under his well-fitted coat, but he showed no strain. He cut an impressive figure, but then a rake must, for his charms were his weapon.

  He turned back to her, the emerald color of his vest glinting under his coat, and held out a hand. “My lady.”

  Lanora pressed her lips closed. There was no winning an argument against her aunt, the terriers and Lord William. She crossed to him, then she took his hand, belatedly realizing neither of them wore gloves. The warmth of his palm, skin slightly rougher than her own, sent a heat through her that threatened to reach her face.

  “I’m afraid I’m not dressed for dancing,” she said, relieved her tone held steady.

  “Nor am I. We must make do.”

  Did he have to speak in that low, rumbling tone, his gaze locked on hers as if they shared some secret? He took her other hand, raising it to his shoulder. He dropped his hand to her waist. Her heart beat at an unacceptable rate, making her lightheaded.

  “You begin with your right leg,” he continued. “I shall step forward with my left and you shall retreat.”

  He pressed his leg to hers. Lanora stepped back quickly. His hands braced her.

  “Now across, then together,” he said, moving them through the steps. “The basic step is despairingly simple. The key is to move in harmony. This is aided by music.” He looked toward the pianoforte.

  With a start, the maid turned from them. She began to play.

  Lord William returned his attention to Lanora, his smile warm. “Now, on my count, we’ll begin.”

  Lanora was stiff at first, more because of how disconcerting it was to have him clasping her hand, his other pressed firmly to her waist, than because of the dance steps. She hadn’t properly realized how thin the material of her cream-colored day dress was. She could feel the heat of him through the fabric.

  She attempted to concentrate on the steps, but his nearness flooded her senses. The scent of shaving soap and clean linen. The intensity of his blue-green eyes. His crooked smile under artfully disarrayed curls. How could she learn a dance in such conditions?

  “I read that the gentleman must look over the lady’s shoulder except during a turn,” she said. She suppressed a grimace at her breathless tone.

  “You mean, if I’m to look at you, we must turn?” He swung her about, her feet skimming the floor as a strong arm pulled her against his body to make the turn.

  Lanora’s face heated. She firmed her arms, opening space between them. “I most certainly do not mean that, and I do not believe that’s how I’ve seen other couples dance.”

  His smile widened. “So we are a couple?”

  “What is it you want from me?” she whispered. He couldn’t possibly imagine she would dally with him, nor could he have honorable intentions toward her. His presence in her home was baffling.

  “I want you to agree to a ride in the park tomorrow.”

  “My lord, I can’t imagine—”

  “Where we may speak with more discretion.”

  His eyes darkened with entreaty. Lanora was dismayed by how moved she was to accept. Lord William’s reputation was well earned. He was a dangerous man. That still didn’t explain what he required of her, a duke’s daughter and a virgin.

  “Agreeing to a ride will put an end to today’s meeting?”

  He winced slightly, but nodded. “My company is so terrible?”

  “Your company is confusing and unwarranted.”

  “I shall not agree to the second, for you are indeed waltzing.”

  Lanora blinked. In her distraction, she’d fallen into easy step with him. They flowed across the room, as if they’d waltzed together many times, as if she knew the dance well.

  The music stopped. He stepped away, bowing over her hand. “It has been my pleasure, my lady.”

  Lanora curtsied. “Thank you for the instruction, my lord.”

  Lord William turned to her aunt with another bow. “Lady Edith.”

  “Lord William.” Her aunt offered a nod. “My old eyes appreciated the display. Lanora improved markedly under your tutelage.”

  “It was her natural grace, my lady, and little to do with me.” With a final bow, he strode from the room.

  Several of the pups rose to follow him. Lanora stood, rooted to the spot. She frowned, then hurried out. She must know more. This was absurd. Why was Lord William giving the impression of a man courting her? She, who all knew didn’t wish to be courted, being pursued by a man all knew didn’t wish to wed. Ridiculous.

  Remembering Grace’s earlier mention of spying on gentlemen, Lanora used the servants’ stairs to retrieve a purse of coins from her room. Quick steps brought her to the footman just returning from opening the door to Lord William’s carriage.

  “Joseph, did you hear where he instructed his driver to go?” she asked.

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Lanora held out the purse. “Follow him. Discreetly, of course. I want to know everywhere he goes today.”

  Joseph bowed. “Yes, my lady.”

  Later that day, when Grace returned with Mrs. Banke’s coin, Lanora listened to her tale of bargaining at the Times and then imparted the details of Lord William’s visit. That evening, they both sat up in the parlor, waiting for Joseph’s report on Lord Willia
m’s doings. It was late when he finally came in, but not so late as Lanora expected.

  “My lady. Grace,” he greeted.

  “I hope your day was not too long, Joseph?” Lanora said. “Please sit.”

  A London servant, Joseph failed to hide his shock at the offer. “No thank you, my lady. I prefer to stand.”

  Lanora doubted that, but didn’t press him. “What have you to report?”

  “Lord William went to Whites and another, less savory club. Gambling, I believe.”

  She nodded. That was to be expected.

  “He took a ride in the park. Fine horseflesh he has, handles it well, too, my lady.”

  “Well, that’s good news,” Grace said, looking pleased.

  “As if riding well makes a man a worthy husband.” Lanora rolled her eyes toward the intricate plaster molding on the ceiling.

  “You’ll want to live in the country.” Grace folded her hands in her lap, her words crisp. “You want a man who can ride.”

  “Do not marry me to the rogue yet, Grace. Continue, please, Joseph.”

  “I returned because Lord William went to, ah, visit a friend, and I don’t think he’ll be out anytime soon.”

  “A friend?” Lanora asked sharply, alerted by Joseph’s tone.

  Joseph rattled off an address, dropping his gaze.

  Lanora went cold. “I see.” The street was so notorious for housing the mistresses of the wealthy, it was colloquially called Mistress’s Row. “And you believe he will remain for some time?”

  “I watched for a spell, my lady. He was still inside when I left.”

  Lanora nodded.

  “It doesn’t have to mean what you think,” Grace said, her tone tentative.

  “Doesn’t it?” Lanora shook her head, surprised by the strength of her disappointment. “Was that all, then, Joseph?”

  “There was one other thing, my lady. I followed Lord William all day after he left here.” Joseph’s face was perplexed. “Thing is, some other bloke was following him too. I stayed out of his sight. He was still watching that house when I left.”

  Lenora hesitated. That was strange. “Thank you, Joseph. You’ve done well. I’m sorry to ask you to make such a long day of it.”

  “It’s no trouble, my lady. We all want you to marry well.”

  Lanora forced a smile. “Thank you.”

  Joseph bowed, then left the parlor.

  Grace turned to Lanora. “Who do you suppose was following your Lord William?”

  “You know he is not, nor ever will be, my Lord William. Really, Grace, of all the men to pin your hopes on.”

  “He did come to teach you to waltz and asked you to ride in the park. That’s romantic.” Grace let out a dreamy sigh.

  Lanora shook her head. “As to who else followed him, I’m sure it was the footman of some other poor, besieged lady, or a jealous lover, or an even more jealous husband. Nothing we want to involve ourselves in, certainly.”

  Grace’s sigh was more forlorn this time. “I suppose you’re correct. Still, coming here to dance with you was romantic, and I know you, Lanora. You aren’t as disinterested in him as you wish me to believe.”

  Lanora pressed her lips together, considering her answer. Grace did know her, and she was correct. “He’s very charming. Too much so. It’s difficult to ascertain if any emotion one feels toward him is real, or if anything he says is.”

  “Then there’s nothing for it. Before this gets out of hand, you shall have to kiss him.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Lanora stared at Grace, shocked.

  “It’s the only way to know for sure. If you kiss him, you will know if you care for him and if he cares for you. I’m certain of it. Then you can plan accordingly. A man can always be separated from his mistress, after all.”

  “You’re daft.”

  “It’s true. He can be weaned from her, as well as from his gambling. Men are malleable creatures. How do you think women manage? Men have all the power, yes, but we slowly mold them to our will. It’s for our own survival.”

  “Grace, that’s so…mercenary.”

  “I didn’t shape the world, Lanora.” Grace’s expression softened. “For all your learning, you’re terribly naive about some things.”

  “Well, naive or not, I will hold out for a gentleman I actually care for, just the way he is. Your way sounds like an awful lot of trouble, and has the chance of failure.” It also sounded rather unfeeling.

  “All the more reason to kiss him. Only once, mind you. Don’t permit it to get out of hand, and don’t forget you’ve hairpins for a reason.”

  Lanora shook her head. “I will not kiss Lord William.”

  “So you say now, but I know you would rather have questions answered than not.”

  “If someone saw, I would be made to wed him.” Grace’s vague promise of an answer seemed hardly worth the risk of being forced to marry him should they be caught.

  “He’s a rake. He will arrange for you to be unobserved.”

  Lanora shook her head. She turned the topic to other things. Soon, they retired for the night. Try as she might, though, as she lay in bed seeking sleep, she could not dispel from her mind the idea of kissing Lord William.

  Chapter Nine

  William contained the urge to whistle as he maneuvered the light, open carriage down Lady Lanora’s street. The day was fine, sky blue, sun bright. It was a day made for charming a lady in the park.

  Lady Lanora was too intelligent to simply be charmed, however. He hadn’t missed the suspicion in her, in spite of the effect he knew he had. And that book. Anyone who could read that jumble of archaic Greek had quite the head on their shoulders.

  He might, as a last resort, need to offer her some truths. Not all, by any means. Knowledge gave a person power, and he wasn’t ready to let anyone have that much power over him. Even Cecilia didn’t know he’d never been to Egypt. Only the marquess knew all, and often wielded the knowledge. He held William under the constant threat of defamation, and now he’d added losing the Greydrake fortune to his arsenal. William grimaced, wishing reputation and coin held less sway in his life.

  Fortunately, arrival at the Solworth London home revived his spirits. Lady Lanora appeared, slipping out a narrowly open door. She pushed several terriers back inside with a slipper-clad foot, offering an enticing glimpse of a slender ankle. Her gown was pale yellow, similar to all young ladies’ gowns, save for the splendidness of her figure. Her shiny black locks were neatly arranged, her green eyes once again as cold as the gems they resembled.

  “My lady,” he greeted as a footman helped her into the carriage.

  “Lord William.”

  Her tone was excessively cool. She didn’t look at him. Surely, she wasn’t that angry over a single waltz with her aunt and a maid in the room?

  William maneuvered the carriage back into the light street traffic. By the time they reached the park, he’d become uncomfortable with her determined silence. Her smile was so tight as to appear pained. Anyone looking on them, and there were many about, would think he held a pistol to her side to make her remain in the carriage with him.

  Out of respect for the woman he thought her to be, he decided to take a direct approach. “You do not seem happy to ride with me.”

  Her eyes darted toward him and away. “I cannot fathom your intention in taking this drive.”

  “You cannot? Is it not obvious I’m courting you?”

  Her eyes widened slightly. Her jaw clenched. She cast a look about, at the numerous other occupants of the park. “You jest.”

  “I do not.”

  A line marred her brow. She turned to him with a frown. “Why would you court me? Have you a wager going?”

  He kept an affable expression, though taken aback by her accusation. He’d known convincing her would be difficult. “There is no wager. I wish us to wed.”

  She blinked several times. “You hardly know me. Did my aunt put you up to this?”

  “Your aunt?” He shoo
k his head. He’d hoped for a slightly more enthusiastic response. “Lady Edith has nothing to do with my courting you. As for knowing you, I have watched you from afar. I’m quite smitten, I assure you.”

  “Smitten?” She gave him a cold smile. “I think perhaps your definition of the word differs from mine. Were I smitten with someone, I wouldn’t spend the evening with my mistress.”

  This time, William couldn’t hide his surprise. He recovered quickly, knowing many eyes were on them. “You had me followed.”

  She shrugged. “Of course. I wished to gauge your sincerity.”

  “And you found it lacking.”

  “Obviously.”

  She might believe she’d put him in his place, but William was pleased. A woman with no interest would never have him followed. It said much that she’d gone to the trouble. He was glad to learn his effect on her was more than physical.

  “I can explain.”

  “I’m certain you can offer all manner of excuses, but I’ve no desire to hear them.”

  He grinned. She could be so cold, her tone infinitely condescending. It was an art. Lady Lanora was a work of art, from her flawless features to her well-modulated voice. He wondered if she could manage other facades as readily as she did ton diamond-an- devout widow.

  “You find my lack of interest entertaining, my lord?”

  No. He found the banked anger in her green eyes irresistible. What would that heat be like, unleashed? He knew better than to ask. “You will not hear me out? I thought you a lady of intelligence.”

  “That is an artless tactic, my lord.”

  “I am an artless sort of fellow.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Lady Lanora.” He lowered his voice to a husky murmur, leaning toward her. It wasn’t fair, but he made no claim to be. “Please. Permit me one opportunity to explain myself. Is that so much to ask?”

  She swallowed. Her pulse raced in her slender neck. “Very well.”

  “Excellent.” He flipped the reins, angling them toward a flower garden constructed of blooms and walls of carefully trimmed evergreen. He knew well the garden’s discreet paths. When they reached it, he brought the carriage to a halt and jumped down. One of the street boys lingering there ran up. William gave him a coin to watch the carriage before walking round to Lady Lanora’s side. She was looking straight ahead, her posture rigid.

 

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