Anything but Innocent

by Dayna Quince

  “Then he isn’t looking properly.”

  Chapter 2

  Dean followed Rigsby into the house, already dreading the time he would spend here. He knew the look on a young woman’s face when she had become instantly smitten with him. He didn’t want to see it on the sister of one of his closest friends. He avoided marriageable young ladies like the plague, but he couldn’t avoid her. He would have to smother those tender emotions of hers with all speed in a way that wouldn’t publicly embarrass her or destroy his friendship with Rigsby. That would involve some cold hard honesty. He knew the type of woman—nay, the girl she was. She held her privileged little world in her hands using everyone like puppets.

  She had no experience with men like him. He was a wolf, and she a helpless little lamb. But this wolf had a conscience and liked his women wicked and equally as untethered as he. Young ladies were not untethered. They had virginity, dowries, settlements, contracts… Dean wanted none of that. He was an earl, but he hated the ties of being a landed gentleman. Those things had been drilled into him as a boy so aggressively, he now loathed anything to do with it. He was his own man now, and he lived as he pleased.

  But she… He could see why she was banished. Ladies that beautiful should be betrothed and married as soon as possible. They caused trouble when left untended.

  “So what exactly did your sister do to earn banishment to York?” Dean asked as they climbed the stairs to the study.

  “Hmm? Oh, poor Lord Whippet thought to propose publicly and trap her into marriage. She shoved him in a fountain. He’s after her dowry, of course. Lucy doesn’t suffer fools, and—obviously, cares not for her reputation.”

  “She seems to be a handful. I remember the incident during the riding party.”

  “You’d do well to forget that, but yes, she is a handful. She isn’t dumb, but she forgets her place in the world.”

  “Her place?”

  “Being of the fairer sex. She hasn’t learned she can’t go about shoving lords into fountains,” Jonathan said then dropped to a whisper, “frolicking bare footed in a pond on The Heath, things of that nature.”

  “Your parents have been too lenient,” Dean remarked. He saw it often with daughters of wealthy fathers. Pampered and bored and too beautiful to refuse. He never fell for such antics.

  “Perhaps. Lucy always finds a way around the rules. Too many people, my parents included, underestimate her.”

  Dean thought about that. If she were as intelligent as her brother touted, then a simple conversation should stop the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him.

  “What of her friend?”

  “Thea? She is a relation to the gun maker, but her family isn’t well off. Lucy has taken her under her wing, though. They are the truest of friends. She’s as innocent as the day is long and a good influence on Lucy.”

  “I won’t be using your sister’s given name any more than I use yours,” Dean warned.

  Jonathan shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  They arrived at Lord Heath’s study. His stay was welcomed and Mrs. Gabe summoned to prepare a room. There was the talk of horses and hunting before Rigsby returned to take his sister riding. Dean found himself in a comfortable room in the guest wing of the house and stretched out on the bed after removing his coat, cravat, and boots. He’d declined the use of a valet offered by Mrs. Gabe. He was used to dressing himself. It was easier when he spent so much time going place to place.

  Now that he was alone, he found himself thinking of Rigsby’s sister yet again. Lucy. She was trouble, her warm brown eyes assessing and all too eager to engage him. Why wasn’t she married? Couldn’t her family see how dangerous it was to let her linger in such a way? She needed a firm husband to keep her reigned in and children to occupy her. Now, once she was widowed and seasoned by the passage of time, then she would be precisely the kind of woman he was interested in. No longer tied so tightly to social conventions and eager for physical companionship to appease her boredom. She would have men begging for her favor. None would succeed but him.

  Dean felt his body relax as he imagined a version of Lucy he could pursue. His breathing evened as his conscious mind slipped into the fuzzy beginnings of a dream.

  Lucy and Thea strolled into the conservatory where her mother was chatting with Jonathan and Lord Winchester. Lucy smiled in greeting as the gentlemen stood and held out their chairs. She had herself in control once more, determined to show Lord Winchester that she wasn’t some witless whinny. She was determined to pay him very little of her attention.

  “How was your ride?” her mother asked.

  “Wonderful, Mother. How was Mrs. Farris this morning?”

  “She is on the mend. She adored the novel you lent her.”

  “Oh, good. I shall have to bring her the next book.”

  “Splendid idea. Her son will be arriving tomorrow to tend to her.”

  Lucy stiffened and caught her mother’s eye. “How nice it will be for her to see her son again.”

  Her mother had that look again. The look that said she’d attended far too many weddings and none of them for her own children.

  The arrival of her father cut the tension somewhat, but only for a moment.

  “What are we discussing?” He asked the table at large.

  “Mother is trying to wed Lucy to Mr. Farris again,” Jonathan said before taking a bite of his chicken.

  Lucy rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to have this discussion again, not in front of Lord Winchester.

  “Mr. Farris is an amiable fellow,” Thea said.

  “His dogs have more wit than he does,” Lord Heath mentioned as he spread butter on a roll.

  “That isn’t the least bit true,” her mother said.

  Lucy wanted to get up and leave. She looked up just in time to see Lord Winchester looking around uncomfortably. “Mother, we have a guest. Let us leave talk of my prospective witless husbands for another time, shall we?”

  Her mother narrowed her eyes at her. “The gentleman should invite him on a hunt.”

  “Shall we have a hunting party?” Lucy looked around the table. She briefly met Lord Winchester’s gaze.

  “If you’ve already pushed one suitor in a fountain, I’m not about to hand you a pistol and have you facing another,” her father said dryly.

  Jonathan erupted in laughter.

  Lucy felt her cheeks burst into flame. “I…I wouldn’t shoot a man for asking to marry me. Jonathan, stop it.” She was tempted to throw a roll at him if only Lord Winchester weren’t present. “Though I am contemplating fratricide.”

  “I’m interested in a good hunt, but perhaps we shouldn’t invite this poor fellow. Mr. Farris, is it?”

  She heard the pleasant rumble of his voice and was surprised he would join her families’ antics. Perhaps he wasn’t as serious as he looked?

  “I’m willing to try. I haven’t much experience with guns.”

  “Well, I suppose we must teach our Dorothea to shoot,” Lord Heath said.

  Thea looked very pleased by the words of Lucy’s father. Thea glowed whenever she was made to feel a part of their family. Lucy wished it could be true and that they could be real sisters. Thea deserved a loving family more than anyone she knew. Lucy took a deep breath, collected her nerves, and summoned her good humor.

  “That’s settled. We will teach Thea to shoot, and I won’t shoot Mr. Farris, regardless of if he asks me to marry him.” Lucy pointedly looked at her mother.

  “I shall send an invitation.” Her mother looked pleased.

  “It will have to be in the morning,” her father said. “We’re going to the races in Newby tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Oh, may we come?” Lucy clapped excitedly.

  Her father gave her an assessing look.

  Lucy grabbed her father’s hand. “Please, Father?”

  He sighed. “Very well.”

  “So much for a pleasant day at the races,” Jonathan mumbled.

  “Thea and I will have a wo
nderful time, I’m sure. If you plan to be sullen, then stay home.”

  “Now, now.” Her father could always sense a budding sibling squabble. “Lord Winchester, do you keep a stable?”

  “I’m afraid not. I travel so frequently. I do bring my own horse everywhere.”

  “What is his name?” Thea asked.

  “Fenrir.”

  “Of the Norse legend?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes. You know it?

  “I do. I find Norse mythology interesting.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Don’t look so surprised. My governess taught me more than how to pour tea.”

  “I didn’t say otherwise. Your brother speaks highly of you.”

  “Please remember all that your governess taught you,” her mother scolded.

  “Yes, Mother.” Lucy let the matter drop.

  “It was Lucy who chose the name for Odin’s pup. We have a fair bit of Norse blood in the Heath line.” Her father then added, “Thor is the pup’s name. And she named her kitten Freya.”

  “Then my horse will be in good company.”

  “Freya stays in our London residence. The carriage makes her sick. She is a sweet little grey tabby,” Lucy added.

  Lord Winchester nodded. “I’ve yet to meet Thor and Odin.”

  “They spend their time in the kitchens begging for scraps. They’ll be glad to come hunting with us and scare up some game,” Jonathan added.

  From then on, the lunch was pleasantly amicable. Lucy and Thea had planned to sketch in the garden after while the men went fishing. Lucy didn’t like to fish. She felt awful for the worms and the fish. Although she was desperate to prove herself in front of Lord Winchester, she was glad to be alone with Thea. That was until her mother decided to join their little party.

  “I haven’t sketched in years.” Her mother sat comfortably in the shade of a tree on a blanket shared by Thea and Lucy.

  “I’m surprised you wanted to join us, Mother.”

  “Well, there was something I wanted to discuss with you.”

  Lucy gritted her teeth.

  “Your father informed me of Lord Winchester’s stay after I returned from visiting Mrs. Farris. I know little of the man and he wanted to assure me.”

  “Assure you of what exactly?” Lucy kept her eyes on the bunch of roses she was attempting to sketch.

  “Of his reputation. I know little of his family though they hail from Yorkshire. He attended school with your brother but otherwise, remains in the wind.”

  As her mother fed her these little tidbits of information, Lucy wondered what their purpose was. Was she encouraging her or warning her?

  “What exactly are you trying to say, Mother?” Lucy set her pencil down and twisted to face her.

  “I just wanted to be sure he wouldn’t be an unacceptable acquaintance for you or Dorothea. Your father assures me he is not. I thought you ought to know.”

  “Jonathan wouldn’t have invited him to stay if he were.” Lucy wondered at her mother’s strange tone.

  “That is true. Your brother fancies himself your gallant protector.”

  That was taking things a bit far. Lucy narrowed her eyes. Her mother’s glance darted away.

  “What is it you are not saying to me?”

  “Why would you think I’m withholding something?”

  “Because you have that look.”

  “I don’t have any such look.”

  “You have many looks, Mother. One of them being that you are withholding something in order to trick me into admitting something.”

  Thea giggled. “You do have a look, Lady Heath.

  Lady Heath scoffed and tossed her head. “Very well. Are you or are you not smitten with Lord Winchester?”

  “I scarcely know the man. I didn’t even recognize him when he arrived. The beard certainly changed his face.”

  “Oh yes, I remember now.” Lady Heath nodded. “It suited him, but I favor a clean shave.”

  Lucy prayed that would be the last said of it. “Do you think mauve will be a popular color next season?”

  “Lady Temple did look stunning when she wore that mauve frock with the feather tassels. She is always ahead of the season’s trends,” Thea answered.

  Lady Heath narrowed her eyes at both of them.

  “You would look lovely in mauve, Mama. Perhaps a shopping expedition is in order?”

  “Hmm.” Lady Heath focused on her sketch book once more.

  Lucy shared a glance with Thea and then returned her attention to her own drawing. All she managed to accomplish was a rough outline of a bird bath. At present, there was a small winged bug marching across the paper. She stared at it, but she didn’t really see it because, once again, her mind was wandering to thoughts of green eyes and a square cut jaw that could be envisioned with and without a beard. She preferred without. His smile was easily appreciated without the beard. Lucy wondered if he knew his smile was crooked. He often only smiled on one side of his mouth as if he couldn’t commit to a full smile. How odd. She’d made note of that at lunch while the men talked of fishing.

  He also had crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. In fact, he smiled more with his eyes than his lips. Lucy mentally paused on the mental image of his lips. She felt her own lips lifting in a smile as she stared down at her paper. She liked to watch his lips move, the way they formed words or half smiled. They didn’t match the gruff aura he presented. His lips looked soft and versatile.

  Lucy sighed. She’d give anything to know the feel of them.

  She looked up and caught Thea and her mother staring at her.

  “What?”

  “You sighed, and you’re smiling,” Thea responded.

  “Is something the matter?” Her mother watched her closely.

  “There’s a darling little bug on my paper. I can’t draw or I might squish him.”

  “Insects are distasteful.” Lady Heath shuddered.

  “We are in their domain, Mother. It only wishes to live fruitfully like us.”

  Her mother raised her brows as she began to gather her sketchbook and pencils. “I suppose that is true. I forgot I must write to my sister. Carry one without me.”

  “We will.” Lucy smiled cheerfully.

  Lucy watched her mother until she was out of sight and well out of earshot. “Let’s find something new to sketch.”

  “Like what?”

  “The lake.”

  Thea stilled. “The lake? Or the men fishing on the lake?”

  “What a lovely idea. My father would love for me to sketch him, doting daughter that I am.”

  Lucy could hear Thea grumbling as she gathered her pencils and charcoal.

  Lucy cheerily gathered their blanket, and they trekked from the garden to the lake. Lucy wasn’t so bold as to march right up to the three men. She chose a dry bank just within calling distance. She waved as the gentlemen took notice, but otherwise, paid them no attention, or at least, pretended not to.

  “What are we doing here, precisely?” Thea asked.

  “Drawing the gentlemen fishing. It’s very serene, isn’t it? The way they stand so still, I mean. The sunlight reflects off the water and creates a sort of glowing haziness.”

  Thea narrowed her eyes at Lucy but then looked at the men, and her face softened. “I dare say it does. I’ve never noticed that.”

  “See? We are expanding our artistic experience. Look at the darling dragonfly on those reeds. Its wings are iridescent.”

  Thea didn’t answer, but instead, took the blanket from under Lucy’s arm and spread it on the ground. Lucy sat and curled her legs to the side. She looked out over the water, resisting the urge to look toward the dock.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Oh!” Lucy cranked her neck over her shoulder to glare at her brother. “You frightened me.”

  He grinned. “I know. What are you doing here?”

  “We’re sketching,” Thea answered calmly.

  “The garden wasn’t inspiri
ng?”

  “Not in the slightest. I thought to draw Father fishing.” Lucy kept her gaze on her work as she idly sketched the bank upon which her father stood. She ignored the rustling beside her as her brother sat.

  “What are you drawing?” he said beside her.

  “I’ve already told you.” Lucy huffed in annoyance.

  “You’ve got that look about you.” He leaned into her and bumped her with his shoulder.

  “I shall not pretend to know what you mean.” Lucy scowled at the squiggly line she drew when he bumped her. “See what you’ve done now?”

  “I see what you’re doing.”

  Lucy turned her head and met her brother’s eyes. She kept her face carefully blank. “What precisely am I doing?”

  “I’ve got a friend visiting. A new person of new experiences. You’re going to pester us like you used to when we were growing up. You can’t stand to be left out of the fun. Winchester isn’t a new toy for you. Let the man be.”

  Lucy blinked. Her mouth slackened. “You think I’m going to be chasing your coat tails wanting you to include me in your boring activities?” She was insulted but mostly, relieved.

  “My activities are never boring,” Jonathan returned without skipping a beat. “Some things we will do together, riding, perhaps a jaunt to the river, but he is here to recuperate, not pander to your distaste for idleness.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes. “Go away, Jonathan.”

  “Do I have your word?” He stood and dusted his hands on his breeches.

  “You’re going to have my pencil jabbed into the toe of your boot if you don’t leave immediately. I care not what you and your little friend are here to do. I’ve got Thea to pander to my distaste for idleness.” Lucy glared at her brother. Lord, if he only knew the infatuation burning inside her. Her anger must hide it well.

  “God’s speed, Thea,” he muttered as he walked away.

  Thea giggled. “He hasn’t the faintest idea.”

  “He can be daft at times.”

  “Lord Winchester has looked over here many times since we’ve settled here.”

  “Has he?” Lucy had made a distinct effort to not look at him, not directly anyhow. She was truly going to draw her father. Men like Lord Winchester hated to not be noticed. The more she pulled away, the closer he would be drawn. He was experienced at fending off women, and most likely expected to have to fend off the paltry affections of a friends little sister, but Lucy knew better. If she wanted his attention, she would have to gain it though the lack of hers. Show him, not tell. At least, that’s what she hoped to do.