“Tha‘ hardly seems the stuff o’ scandal tae me,” Archie scoffed.
“I would agree, if that were all of it, but there was a daughter who did the same, and her son and daughter-in-law—Sabrina’s own parents— who did likewise. Are you getting the point yet, Archibald? When our main concern is another heir who will continue both our lines, do we really want to take the chance that there might be any truth to this girl’s sad history?”
“Does Duncan know all this?”
“You think he confides in me? I have no idea if he’s aware of it, though he may have heard the gossip. Would it make a difference to him?”
Archibald frowned thoughtfully. “Likely it wouldna, and definitely no‘ if ye bring it up tae him.”
Neville’s lips tightened at the implication. “Haven’t we been over this before? I know you would like to think that the boy would be stubborn and go against his own common sense just to spite me, but I give him more credit than that. However, on this marriage business, he k more likely to listen to you, so find out if he knows, and if he doesn’t, apprise him and make clear that this chit simply won’t do.”
Archie actually nodded in agreement for once, though he did add hopefully, “ Tis likely nae more than ye said, that she amuses him.”
“As I also said, there would then be no problem, but the very fact that Lady Ophelia Reid is back under my roof this morning—”
Archie cut in, “The devil she is—”
Neville cut back in, “Because she happens to be a guest of the Lamberts at the moment, and they were invited by Duncan despite that fact. This either means he was smitten by her beauty after all—which should delight you—and has decided to forgive her insults and marry her anyway, or he’s serious about the Lambert girl. Take your pick, Archibald. I’m pleased with neither.”
“And I am?” Archie snorted. “ ‘Tis more likely he’s going tae be surprised himself when he sees who the Lambert women hae brought wi’ them. I’m guessing he didna ken who their guest was when he invited them. And that right there will get rid o‘ the lot o’ them.”
Neville actually chuckled now. “Wishful thinking doesn’t get you very far, you know. Sabrina Lambert would have told him last night. She may have this unfortunate scandal attached to her family, but she’s not an empty-headed twit who wouldn’t realize the ramifications of bringing Duncan’s ex-fiancée to a gathering arranged for the express purpose of him picking a bride.”
“Och,” Archie said in disgust to that as he rose to leave the room. “I’ll be finding him now and finding oout for m’self what’s what. Speculating wi‘ ye, Neville, just gives me a bluidy headache.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Duncan had avoided going downstairs this morning, after the decision he’d made last night. He had slept on it, or rather, tossed and turned on it for a while before sending a second message to the coachman that canceled the earlier one he’d sent, and added any guests on the Lambert premises to the man’s list of pickups. He’d then gone promptly to sleep. But this morning the decision was not sitting well with him at all, was turning his disposition quite sour.
Letting Ophelia Reid back into this house was a big mistake, no matter the reason. It would be an unspoken “forgive and forget” message in her mind that wasn’t at all what had been in his mind.
He could have figured out ways to visit with Sabrina every other day or so over the next couple of weeks of the party, without being unduly missed, and if he was missed, well, too bad. No one had told him that he had to be in attendance at Summers Glade twenty-four hours of every day. So why hadn’t he done that instead?
But he knew very well why. Having Sabrina at the party meant she’d be there for up to sixteen hours each day, be available if he wanted to talk, be handy if he needed cheering, be able to advise him about this major decision in his life he was expected to make within the next couple of weeks, and just be there with her calming effect. He was willing to pay for that with any misconceptions it might cause with Ophelia, which he could correct easily enough. But he had overlooked how it might appear to others, after he had ended their engagement, for her to be there again.
That was brought home to him directly when Archie tracked him down in his room to demand to know if he’d changed his mind about Ophelia. That was easily answered, but then he wanted to know what his intentions were toward Sabrina, and that was much more complicated. Not that he had any intentions, it was just that the relationship he was enjoying with her was one that Archie wasn’t likely to believe, and didn’t.
“A friend?” Archie snorted. “Men make friends o‘ other men, they dinna make friends o’ lassies.”
“Why?”
“Because sex gets in the bluidy way, tha’s why. And if ye tell me ye havena once thought aboot it where this wee lass is concerned, I’ll call ye a liar.”
Duncan didn’t take offense, he was amused instead. “So call me one. Fact is, I’ve been tae busy laughing with the lass tae think o‘ aught else.”
Archie, of course, snorted again. But then Duncan had known he wouldn’t understand. It was such a simple concept, yet Archie couldn’t see past the “natural order of things” between men and women.
He still tried to explain. “Consider this, if you will. You have a verra good friend who lives near you, perhaps e’en your best friend. You’re having a party. You’d be wanting your friend there tae share what promises tae be a good time wi‘ you, aye?”
Archie joined in the speculation. “But m’friend is otherwise committed.”
“Aye, but ‘tis a minor commitment that can be got around by bringing it tae the party as well. And you know verra well you’d arrange it just that way.”
“No‘ if the other ’commitment‘ was a viper-tongued lass who could well spoil the whole bluidy party, and I ken tha’ verra well.”
Duncan sighed. Now, that he couldn’t dispute, since it was a distinct possibility. But then he grinned. At least Archie had got the point.
“Dinna worry aboot Ophelia until there is cause tae worry. And dinna worry that my intentions toward Sabrina are other than friendship. Talk tae her yourself t’day, and you’ll see why she’s nice tae be around. She has a way o‘ making you forget your troubles.”
Archie’s frown indicated that didn’t exactly reassure him. “As long as yer no‘ forgetting the purpose o’ this gathering o‘ lassies.”
“I’ve told you I dinna object tae getting m’self a wife. Tis this hell-bent rushing I dinna like, and I’ll tell you true, if I canna make up m’mind afore the party ends, I’ll hear nae complaints o’er it. I willna pick a lass just tae be picking one.”
“We dinna expect ye tae be falling instantly in love, lad,” Archie replied in a grumbling tone. “That takes time tae grow on ye.”
“I’m no‘ talking aboot love, I’m talking aboot liking. I have tae at least like this lass I’ll be committing m’self tae. There has tae be something there tae work wi’, Archie, other than indifference.”
“Course there does, but ye willna be finding it if yer spending all yer time wi‘ friends instead. And how will these other lassies be seeing that, when they dinna know she’s just a friend tae ye? They’ll be thinking ye hae made yer choice, sae they dinna need tae put themselves forward for yer notice. Some might e’en pack up and go home.”
Duncan grimaced. Trust Archie to make his point as well, and one he couldn’t dispute.
“So I took one evening off from wife hunting, tae plain and simply enjoy m’self,” Duncan said. “You begrudge me e’en that, do you?”
“Nay, as long as it was only the one evening. But this party canna go on indefinitely, lad. And ye’ll no‘ be finding a better opportunity than this one tae make a choice. I’ve ne’er in m’life seen sae many fine lassies gathered in one place before. Auld Neville did verra well in his selection o’ who tae invite here, making it easy for ye tae do the same. Use yer time more wisely, is all I’m asking.”
Duncan agreed that he would, ye
t when he came downstairs a bit later, it was Sabrina he was unconsciously looking for as he passed through each room. Unfortunately, it was Ophelia he found instead, or rather, she found him, stepping into his path so he was forced to stop or rudely ignore her.
He would have done the latter without hesitation, since he’d said all he cared to say to her yesterday. If she hadn’t gotten the point, that was no fault of his. But she wasn’t alone, had two other girls with her, and he was keeping Archie’s admonishments in mind.
He’d met her two companions briefly, but too briefly for him to remember their names, when he’d been introduced to more than a hundred people in the last two days. Each was rather pretty, though, so worth getting to know a little better, he supposed, and that meant not being rude just now. But he changed his mind about that abruptly with the first words out of Ophelia’s mouth.
“I believe you’ve met my two very dear friends, Edith and Jane?”
Anyone who could call herself a good friend of hers, he didn’t want to know any better. Sabrina was the exception to that, but then she had never claimed to be a friend of Ophelia’s, had mentioned obligations instead.
“Indeed,” he said without sparing a glance for Ophelia. Looking at her companions instead, he added before walking around them, “A pleasure, ladies, but if you’ll excuse me, I havena eaten yet.”
“He’s awfully—” There was a pause as Jane tried to think of a word other than rude to describe Duncan’s attitude. She settled on, “— abrupt, isn’t he?” as they all watched him leave the room.
“A Scots trait, I would imagine,” Ophelia said in a bored tone.
She was actually glad that he hadn’t stayed. She’d been seen talking to him. That was all she was interested in at the moment.
“Will you accept when he asks you to marry him again—that’s if he doesn’t take the request to your father instead this time?” Edith asked.
Ophelia pretended to give that some thought. “I haven’t quite made up my mind yet. There is Lord Locke to consider now, after all.”
“Of course,” Jane replied. “He hasn’t met you yet, but that can be rectified immediately. Sabrina could introduce you if she’s still with him.”
Ophelia’s bored stance ended with amazing swiftness. “I don’t need an introduction,” she said tersely. “And certainly not by Sabrina. I will meet Raphael Locke when I am ready to meet him— perhaps tonight. You did say there was supposed to be dancing in the ballroom tonight?”
“We heard that mentioned, yes.”
“Excellent. I do have a new ball gown for just such an occasion.”
“Ah, Ophelia dear, I don’t think the dancing tonight will quite be classified as a ball,” Jane warned. “Things are much more informal in the country.”
“Nonsense, a ball is a ball, no matter where it’s held. And I do want to look my best when I meet him for the first time. A splendid new ball gown assures that.”
Jane started to protest further, but a look from Edith changed her mind. Ophelia was still their friend, they still wanted to bask in her popularity, but neither of them had liked the way she had turned on Mavis, who had also been their friend. And Mavis’s prediction was weighing heavily on them, since they could both see how easily it could come to pass.
So if Ophelia wanted to overdress for the evening, that was her business. If she was embarrassed by it, that was also her business. She’d been warned, but typically, no one’s opinion but her own mattered to her.
Chapter Twenty-five
By the time Duncan finished eating his breakfast, he was quite proud of himself. He had managed to accomplish a lot of socializing by taking his plate with him, as he’d seen others do, and making a circuit of the downstairs rooms, stopping here and there to pass out a compliment or remark on the storm that had blown in and was now battering at the windows.
If any guests had considered an outing for the day, they had now changed their minds. But then no one really cared to go out in winter, even if it weren’t raining, when there were enough activities to occupy them indoors.
Card games were already in progress, some merely friendly, but most with gambling involved—a pastime the English ton seemed to find particular enjoyment in. Charades were being enacted in the drawing room amidst much laughter. The billiards room sported not one, but two tables which kept many of the older gentlemen busy, including Archie—Neville hadn’t made an appearance yet.
A young lass was entertaining a group of ladies in the music room, a pretty girl with a touch of red in her blond hair who caught Duncan’s eye. You’d have to be deaf to enjoy her singing, though, so he didn’t stay long there.
He would have lingered in the drawing room, but that was where Ophelia was now holding court, which was too bad, since Amanda Locke was also there, and he had been thinking he’d get to know her a little better. Just because he didn’t like her brother was no reason to discount one of the prettier lasses there. She wasn’t as beautiful as Ophelia, but then it was unlikely that anyone could be. Ophelia was an oddity, too pretty and well aware of it.
He had covered all the rooms when he realized he hadn’t seen Sabrina in any of them. The only two he hadn’t checked were the ballroom, not used during the day, and Neville’s study, also unused since it had pretty much been given over to Neville’s estate manager, who’d been given leave while the house was entertaining. Sabrina’s aunt who had been with her last evening was in the music room with another woman about the same age, but Sabrina wasn’t with them either.
It occurred to Duncan then that Sabrina might not have come to Summers Glade. How ironic, that he would now have to suffer Ophelia’s presence, yet the boon he was supposed to have for it, Sabrina’s company, was going to be denied him. But why wouldn’t she come herself when the rest of her household was here, even her guest?
Before he asked her aunt that very question, he checked the last two rooms. He found the study had been locked—a wise precaution, he supposed. The ballroom wasn’t, but it was dark inside due to the storm, and empty as it should be; at least at a glance it seemed to be. A slight movement caught his eye, though, just as he was closing the door, and there she was, across the room, standing at the side of one of the glassed balcony doors. It was the lilac wallpaper behind her, which was about the same shade as her dress, that had blended her with the room, nearly hiding her.
Sabrina heard him approaching, and without looking, knew it was Duncan. There was something about his stride, so brisk, that was quite recognizable. Her pulse picked up a beat, an odd occurrence that happened each time he was near. She wondered why he was there. It wouldn’t be for the same reason she was, she was sure.
As soon as the storm had begun, she had sought a quiet place to observe the primal magnificence of nature unleashed in full fury. She loved storms as much as she did gentle rain. While some people might grow nervous at the rumble of thunder or a whip-crack of lightning, she actually found such things soothing and would as soon be out in the midst of it.
That was impossible, at least today it was. But the next best thing was to watch, and the balcony doors with their glass panes gave her an unobstructed view of the terrace and beyond, and the empty ballroom gave her the privacy to enjoy that view alone.
But she didn’t mind that she was being disturbed by Duncan; in fact, it was rather nice that she could share the view with him.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said when his step stopped next to her.
She thought she’d have to explain what she meant, but knew he understood when he replied, “Would you like a closer look at it?”
She glanced at him and smiled, but shook her head sadly. “My aunts would disapprove of a wet, bedraggled look, particularly so close to the luncheon hour when I wouldn’t have time to go home and change.”
He smiled back, but took her hand in his and, opening the balcony door, pulled her outside with him into the rain. He stopped there on the terrace and lifted his face to the sky, savoring the elements
as she might have done.
God help her, in that moment she fell completely in love with him.
Duncan thought he must be mad, to have given in to that impulse—until he looked down at Sabrina. There was such joy in her expression, such delight, that it made her radiantly lovely. Even though her hair had quickly soaked and was stringy about her face, for a brief moment he was completely mesmerized, by her incredible eyes, a raindrop on one lash before it slid to her cheek, another rivulet pooling in one dimple before dividing and rushing over her perky little chin, the suppleness of her lips when she smiled that drew his eyes to her mouth ...
He cupped her adorable face in his hands and kissed her. It was another impulse, but one he couldn’t regret once begun. The rain was stingingly cold, but he didn’t feel the cold, felt only the heat of her lips, and the steamy heat where their bodies touched. She was ambrosia to taste, a fresh breath of summer in the bleakness of winter.
Thunder rumbled distantly and he drew her instinctively closer. Lightning flashed and he parted her lips, his tongue thrusting inside. For a time there was no one else in existence, just the two of them and the elements, and the passion that had burst upon them.
When Duncan came to his senses, he was assailed with guilt, embarrassment, and something else, which he didn’t recognize immediately as fear. He could blame Archie for having set him to thinking about Sabrina as a woman, rather than just as a friend, and he would blame him if this impulse ended up costing him her friendship.
He took his hands from her and stepped back. He was too upset now to look at her, wanted only to escape before she said something that would sever their relationship, yet he had to apologize first, couldn’t leave her thinking that he was the barbarian he was reputed to be.
The Heir Page 12