She touched the glass. She had to get to know this woman.
The dress, one she’d never worn before, hardly stood out.
The plan was that she could wear something she was comfortable in and its basic design would accentuate many different styles of jewellery.
She swirled, testing the dangling emerald and pearl earrings as they bounced against her jawline.
She wondered if butterflies ever longed to be a caterpillar again and decided they must. To grow wings and be buffeted about by the winds would be more taxing than squirming about attaching to stems and the underside of leaves. But butterflies were made to land on the flowers and fly into the blue above.
Again, she pulled at the top of her sleeves, arranging them to their full puffiness. She’d liked being hidden, but it wouldn’t bring the results she needed.
* * *
When she walked into the soirée, the uneasiness in her stomach was the only thing about her that didn’t feel perfect.
She clamped her teeth together, gave herself strict instructions to smile, not to catch on fire and to live until the end of the night. If she completed those three tasks, she would consider the event a success.
The bauble on her wrist sparkled, a woman decked in stones instead of munitions. She smiled. She must not even take a sip of wine. Well, she decided, one more and pretended being at ease, only letting the drink moisten her lips. The bracelet slid from her wrist almost to her elbow, and she lowered her glass slowly, enjoying the reverse glide of smooth metal against her skin.
Then she touched the necklace and interlaced her fingers through the chain before dropping the warmed links.
So much better than chainmail to wear into this battle.
She saw another wallflower. She would introduce herself to the woman and then find another person to meet. It didn’t matter if the woman liked or disliked her. This wasn’t about making friends. It was about survival. About battle.
And being able to conduct herself at a soirée successfully. Which she could do. She saw Devlin. She would prove it. And she could demonstrate it to him. She would flutter around like a butterfly without an attachment to any one flower. She would introduce herself to the wallflowers and older women and any woman who stood alone. She would dance with her father and with Payton, and she would practise being at ease.
She reduced her aspirations. She stood still to avoid spilling her wine.
Devlin looked so confident, relaxed and laughing, and so were the people around him. She envied his composure and then he glanced around the room, saw her and, with just the smallest nod, welcomed her.
She wanted Devlin to be proud of the strides she’d made, because he had helped her. Encouraged her.
She didn’t mind being a wallflower any more because Devlin understood her true purpose. She was there to showcase her jewellery and again she lifted a drink to her mouth, pretended to sip, and let the bracelet slide. She had to admit, most of the ladies had more elegant dresses, but few could match her in gemstones.
* * *
The night meandered on and, during a lull between the dances, she felt a presence at her side and knew without turning that it was Devlin.
‘I barely untied my cravat in time to attend,’ the rich baritone teased, causing sparkles of pleasure.
‘I’m happy I didn’t tie it in two knots then.’
‘You seem more relaxed,’ he said.
‘An act.’
‘Acting is not all bad. Payton and I both became fascinated with the stage once. Not so much the plays, but the actresses. When they spoke of their trade, I realised that some of them were in a performance at all times they were with me. Perhaps in their lives. I accepted it as a ritual of society that is necessary for us all. That’s why I tell you to do it at the soirées.’
‘It’s tiresome. Pretending to be happy when you weren’t born to flutter about.’
‘You were never born a creature to stay hidden.’
‘Perhaps that is why it didn’t happen. Perhaps the accident was fortunate all the way around. It saved me from Tenney.’ Their eyes locked. ‘And you from mindless chatter. It gave you a project. Me.’
He raised his glass slightly in her direction. ‘A gamble with the same odds Payton accepts at the gaming table. An assured win.’
* * *
Devlin watched the guests, aware that the woman his father had once courted was in attendance.
He’d been surprised that his father had fancied her. Her gown was dull and made her look older than her years and she had woebegone jowls. Not at all the spitfire his mother could be.
‘A woman my father once courted is here tonight. He led her to believe they were going to marry, but didn’t propose. He decided he’d made a mistake and asked my mother to wed that week. He married within days.’
He’d heard the ever so polite but still vitriolic mentions when his mother spoke of it to his father. She’d not been aware he’d been courting the other woman and found out within days after their wedding. The former sweetheart had called on his mother to offer felicitations.
He’d not known about it until he’d heard his father laughing with a few friends about the error of his ways and the explosion the Countess had unleashed on him when he’d returned home. The insouciance had startled Devlin. ‘My uncle told me about it when I asked him. I’d heard Father’s side and I didn’t want to ask Mother.’
His uncle had said the bungled proposal was merely a ripple in the pond of the Earl’s indiscretions.
‘Father has had many mistresses, but only one wife.’
‘Spare me the nobility of that one,’ she said. ‘I now detest your father.’
‘So did Mother for most of my childhood. But they seem to have reached an agreement of sorts. They never have hot-tempered discussions now. He’s mellowed. And I rarely have a cross word with Father either. We have mostly left our own angry shouting matches by the wayside.’
‘You’re his son. That’s the way it should be.’
‘A title bestowed by birth.’
‘You should value those titles.’
‘Some come with estates. Some don’t. I’m far better off to look at them as they are than to try to wish them into what they’re not. And I don’t.’
‘That’s cold, when it’s family.’
‘Depends on how you comprehend it.’
‘How do you find me?’
‘Your betrothed treated you badly and I want you to show everyone that he was a dolt.’
‘Are you trying to absolve your father’s indiscretions when you assist me? Or are you atoning for the women who expected more than a friendship from you?’
‘Or a third suggestion. You fascinate me.’ He gauged her reactions to his words. ‘But we both could be playing with fire.’ His gaze locked on her. ‘And you know how it burns.’
Music started. He asked her with a flick of his brows if she wanted to dance and she held out her elbow for him to lead her forward.
She spoke as they waited for the dancers to line up. ‘Fire makes swords stronger.’
‘You escaped it once. I wouldn’t want you to be hurt a second time.’
The dance started, bringing them closer. She spoke. ‘But artillery is usually iron, or steel—metal stronger than flesh and bone.’
‘Not yours.’ He gave her the elaborate bow the dance required and as they raised their hands to touch, he led her in a circle. ‘If you only ever listen to one bit of advice in your life, then listen to this one. You shouldn’t play with fire when your heart is involved. It’s not a gamble, it’s a jump from a place of safety into an abyss.’
* * *
Rachael was no longer aware of the others at the dance. Devlin took so much space in her mind that it couldn’t comprehend anyone or anything else at that moment.
‘I commend you for the wa
rning,’ she said. ‘But I expect you to know that people rarely heed cautions.’
‘I’m not interested in how other people react. Only you.’
‘What’s one more gamble?’ she asked. ‘When I am undertaking a struggle to learn the multiplication tables.’
‘I would hope I rate higher than that.’
‘You do.’
He waited until they were at the end of the line and kept his voice low. ‘Might I call on you again? As I did last time? The same time? Tomorrow night?’
‘Yes,’ she answered softly.
They parted in the steps and when they were at the end of the line again, he spoke. ‘Did you notice that the Duchess of Pendleton is here? The woman you mentioned when you were thinking of someone to emulate?’
‘Yes. I noticed. She is an inspiration. You cannot miss her.’
Then he glanced at the Duchess, unsmiling. ‘I knew her when she was just plain Meg.’
When the dance ended, Devlin deposited her near some of the other couples he knew and managed to get her included in the conversation before he left.
* * *
Rachael didn’t say a word, but followed her mother up the stairs after they’d arrived home. Her father had taken a detour by the kitchen.
At the top of the stairs, the older woman turned and interlaced her arm through Rachael’s. ‘I saw you dancing with Devlin. I trust you to be sensible. If he is anything like his father, he isn’t at all reliable. Do take care with your reputation.’
‘I know. I know the risk I take.’ They stopped in the hallway and Rachael pulled away from her mother.
‘Then why do you take it?’
‘He may have saved my life once.’
‘A nice thank-you letter to his mother would suffice. I took care of that for you.’
‘And he’s giving me support as I put Mr Tenney behind me and he’s helping me feel comfortable among the ton so I can be an ambassador for Father’s undertakings.’
‘I’ve never regretted marrying your father.’ Her mother reached to Rachael, combing an errant lock behind her daughter’s ear. ‘But if I had wed differently, you might have had a stronger place in society.’
‘I’m completely happy with the way things have worked out.’ Except perhaps she might have liked to have been in Devlin’s social world. Someone he’d known all of his life and might consider like he’d—he’d thought of plain Meg.
Her mother put her hands in a prayer-like clasp and touched her forefinger against her lips. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m reading Grandfather’s book.’ That was true. And the life she was destined for. The life she promised herself she would have.
‘You should not be reading that. It is not for women. Besides, your grandfather didn’t approve of me and the man noted I was too high-born for his son. Perhaps that is why I can’t discourage you with Devlin. You belong in that world, Rachael, even if you don’t know it.’
‘If Grandfather had lived longer, been as wise as everyone says, and known you better, he would have thought you perfect.’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘I have a duty to continue his legacy.’
‘Your duty is to follow in my footsteps. To have children and to be a mother. What could be more important than that?’
She didn’t want to tell her mother that providing for her parents could be foremost in her mind. ‘I will always have your example in my heart.’
‘Then surely you don’t want to spend one second thinking about the drudgery that Grimsley handles?’
‘I do. Our largest sales are to people who live in the best houses, but I think we can get many smaller ones by also creating a welcoming place for people of middling fortunes.’
Her mother grimaced. ‘You sound like your grandfather. I used to hate when he would visit and all he would want to do is talk with his son about the shops. Your father put up with it out of duty.’
‘I wish I had known my grandfather.’
Her mother put a hand on Rachael’s shoulder. ‘He rather liked his own way. Much like the rest of us. Even you. That may have been why you accepted Tenney. He didn’t disturb your life.’
‘I seriously considered Mr Tenney and concluded he wanted the same goals for us that I had. So, I erred tremendously. I tried to do everything exactly right and did as I believe I was destined. And that ended in a heap of nothing.’
‘He thinks you were scarred by the accident. I’ve heard the rumours. I have tried to quash that, but everyone believes I am merely defending my daughter.’
‘Oh, please, let them believe that.’ It would keep others from speculating on her family’s finances.
‘I would like to have discovered that Tenney would have placed me above everything else in life...at least before marriage,’ Rachael continued. ‘I have been fortunate to discover how shallow he is.’
‘But now you’re acquainted with the Viscount. He may not be any more substantial than Mr Tenney.’
‘He’s far more aware than Tenney. He sees me as a person. Not a wife.’
The room was silent.
Her mother answered slowly, ‘A wife is such a bad thing?’
‘I didn’t mean it that way. I only meant I waited years expecting marriage. I don’t want to fall into a mire a second time. I like the Viscount. He is a friend.’
‘If he just wants companionship, he should get a puppy. But do as you wish.’ She shook her head. ‘You will anyway, I suspect. Again, you are like your grandfather. My husband’s family concluded I would beggar him and my family perceived him beneath me. But we loved each other and have had so much happiness. So, I can’t tell you what to think. If either your father or I had taken our parents’ advice, we would never have married.’
‘Don’t worry.’ She put her arms around her mother’s shoulders and drew her close for a second.
Her mother patted Rachael’s elbow.
‘I know the risks,’ Rachael said.
‘I hope you tread carefully and know I will always be here for you. I like the Viscount much better than Mr Tenney and not only because he saved your life. But I fear he is not as insincere as he lets on and that, perhaps, is what worries me. Perhaps he is deep enough to make you love him, but not deep enough to return the feelings as you deserve.’
‘Would you think less of me if I told you that I wish to be selfish? If a man can leave his feelings behind, then I should be able to also.’
‘You aren’t like that.’
She paused. ‘I want our family to be a financial success more than ever before. That is what I want more than anything. That will give me purpose and make me proud to be a spinster.’
‘Don’t use him to get more business for your father.’
‘Devlin is agreeable to it. We may meet at some point to discuss it.’
‘Rachael.’ Her mother gasped the word.
‘I like him, Mother, and he is straightforward with me and I am honest with him. Perhaps we are two of a kind.’
‘Now I will not sleep a wink.’
‘You can sleep peacefully.’
‘Plubbt...’ her mother gasped. A garble. ‘I’m not that forgetful. I know what it is like to be young.’ She turned, her face hidden. ‘But I understand.’
‘Don’t worry.’
Her mother dotted a handkerchief to her forehead. ‘I’ll worry. His father has a chipped tooth.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The next night Rachael crept down the stairs, holding a lamp and a plate of biscuits, and a pencil and paper were tucked into the book under her arm. She’d left her book of Byron’s poetry behind.
She unpacked her bounty and sat by the entryway in the overstuffed chair, prepared for a night of reading.
The butler heard her and appeared, giving her one of those I know what you’re about glances and she
tried to answer with a so do I, but it had more of a waver in it. ‘I will be fine.’
He hesitated.
‘I expect to inherit this home some day,’ she said. He left.
Rachael lifted The Complete English Tradesman, but couldn’t concentrate on it.
She hoped she knew what she was doing. For the past two days she had studied ledgers and multiplications and cosmetics. The new understanding of the ledgers had jarred her and she needed comfort and couldn’t find it in a pot of lip stain.
She needed to feel Devlin’s strength and assuredness that everything would work out. And it might not. If her father lost everything, she and her mother would as well. Then she would have to marry for money and whoever she married would always wonder if she’d have chosen him if her fortunes hadn’t changed.
The business had to succeed.
She considered whether she would have liked to have lived in a way that the words mad, bad and dangerous to know could have applied to her, even if they were exaggerated, and decided she wouldn’t.
She was reserved, restrained and asleep before nine.
But it was well past nine.
She’d eaten one and a half biscuits and read part of a chapter when she heard the pattern of raps.
A knock sounded and echoed in the empty entryway. She paused. It would change the course of her life for ever if she didn’t move. It would be the safest thing. And she could endeavour to get invitations through her mother’s relatives.
But then it was as if her heart had stopped beating.
She leapt to her feet and opened the door. He stood there, a dark shadow with an emotionless face that told her more than if he had smiled.
Her pulse pounded and her mind raced so fast everything else slowed by comparison. Her body responded to him, every feeling heightened—from the tips of her toes to her fingers to her breathing.
His eyes—the ones she thought lacked emotion—didn’t.
He stood, strong enough to hold the ribbons of two horses going opposite directions and keep them steady, a man whose body had been naturally created for strength, and who was so used to it that it couldn’t be imagined any other way. She could have spent all her life imagining a man built to perfection and her mind would never have been able to conjure Devlin.
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