Valor of Love (Scandalous Scions Book 2) Page 4

  Anna turned to her daughter as Sadie smiled. “First, we must have your father agree to this. You know he wants what he thinks is best for you, which doesn’t always match what you think.”

  “I can talk him around. I know I can,” Sadie said, her smile growing warmer.

  Lilly wisely kept her mouth closed on that matter.

  * * * * *

  Jack and Will brought Ben a fresh glass of brandy and turned to watch the dancing, one on either side of him. Jack nudged Ben’s arm. “Your mother and your sister are having a rather intense conversation over there in the corner.”

  “That’s Lilly, behind them,” Will added, craning his head to watch them. “Then it’s probably not family business they’re discussing, if Lilly is there.”

  “I wouldn’t wager money on that,” Ben said, smoothing down his beard. “Sadie thinks Lilly is marvelous—an independent woman turning her back on society. Mother most likely pulled Lilly into the conversation to talk sense into Sadie.”

  “I heard Sadie cleaned out Forthegill’s wallet in three rounds of whist, last week,” Jack added.

  Ben winced. “That’s why I’m staying away from the conversation. If Mother knew we took Sadie to that party, she would flay us all down to the meat.”

  “Sadie was perfectly safe with the three of us,” Will pointed out. “Although I thought the point of taking her was to demonstrate how boring card parties are and how much she would hate it.”

  “That worked out marvelously, didn’t it?” Jack finished dryly.

  All three of them grinned.

  “I can see why your mother is getting impatient, though,” Will said, staring into his brandy. “Sadie is older than Sharla and Jenny and she still hasn’t come out.”

  “Why should she?” Ben said shortly.

  The other two raised their brows. “What do you mean?” Will asked.

  “It’s all very well for you two. You have titles and lands.”

  “You know that is all quite meaningless to us,” Jack began.

  Ben held up his hand, then drank deeply, maybe for courage. Jack and Will always said they understood, yet there were moments when they clearly didn’t, like now. “Sadie has no inheritance,” he said bluntly. “Oh, some small amount that Mother and Father will scrape together for her, enough to get by if a man doesn’t come along who will marry her without a dowry. So why should she be paraded among the upper class as if someone would seriously consider her?” His voice came out harsher than he intended.

  The other two swiveled in unison to look at Sadie, who was smiling now.

  “Hadn’t thought of it that way,” Will said gruffly.

  Jack cocked his head and pointed at Ben with the hand that held the snifter, his gloved finger extended. “That is why you’re skulking around the corner, drinking all the brandy, isn’t it?” he said. “You think no woman of the ton would consider you for the same reason.”

  Ben thought he’d come to terms with the ugly fact. Hearing Jack say it aloud hurt, though. “It is an undisputable truth,” he made himself say.

  Will nodded. “That’s why you behave the way you do. Flitting and flirting and never taking a single woman seriously.”

  Ben turned and put his glass down on the nearest horizontal surface—in this case, a tall column holding up a stiff green plant of some kind. “Exactly,” he told the other two. He tugged his gloves into place, for the current reel was coming to an end. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to dance with the belle of the ball and congratulate her.”

  “Which one?” Jack called after him.

  “Don’t be silly. Both of them,” Ben called back.

  He had claimed a waltz with Sharla first. She was easy to find amongst the dancers, for the purple of her dress stood out. So did her hair. Ben could remember rubbing ends of her hair together when he was a boy, to see if the ends would burst into flame, while she had tried to yank her hair out of his hands and kick his shins. Now it was coiled and pinned, gleaming warmly.

  Sharla smiled as he reached her. “Just in time, Ben,” she said. “Oh dear, I must stop doing that. I mean, my l—” Then she bit her lip. Her smile vanished.

  “I don’t mind. You can say it,” he told her. “Mister Hedley to you.”

  The music began. They stepped together and picked up the beat smoothly.

  “Actually,” he added, his chest tightening, “To be perfectly correct, it would be merely ‘Hedley’, for one of your rank, wouldn’t it?”

  “Don’t, Ben.” She said it so quietly he barely heard it. Rich emotion in her tone made him study her more closely than usual.

  “Why do you say it that way?” he asked, working to sound indifferent and failing.

  Sharla’s eyes met his. They were blue, which offset the purple of her dress as much as her hair did. Astonishingly, her eyes glittered.

  “Are you…crying?” Ben asked, alarmed.

  She blinked and shook her head. “You always jest about being a common man, only it stopped being amusing to me a long time ago.”

  Ben was so astonished, five beats of the dance passed before he could think of a response. “Sharla, are you angry?”

  It was her turn to not speak. When she did, her voice was remote. “If I am anything, it is afraid.”

  Ben nearly stumbled, which never happened to him, normally. “Of what could you possibly be afraid? You will be the toast of the season and men will trip over themselves to court you.”

  Her smile was bitter. “The man I want won’t be one of them.”

  This time, he forgot to dance. They stood among the dancers, his hand on her waist, where he could feel the heat of her through the satin, while he stared at her. His heart was thudding and it wasn’t from the dancing.

  “Sharla…” he began. Then he cleared his throat. “You can’t possibly know what you want. You are…young.” It was better to risk hurting her feelings than insulting her with the raw truth.

  “I know what I want. I always have,” she said. Her gaze would not release him.

  It forced him to the truth he had been avoiding. “You can’t marry me,” he said softly. “No one in this world would ever let it happen. I won’t let it happen. It would be the ruin of you.”

  He made himself turn and walk away, even though it left her abandoned in the middle of the dancefloor. After what he’d just said, he suspected she would prefer it that way.

  Chapter Four

  The guests kept everyone busy. Thomsett monitored his staff, as Paulson and Stamp did theirs. Having three households of staff on hand made the job easier, for it split the work between the three butlers. Thomsett knew Stamp tolerably well and judged him to be a competent man. Paulson, as old as he was, was a force to be reckoned with. One day, Thomsett would get the grizzled man to smile at him in approval. On that day, Thomsett would consider himself good at his job.

  Because supervision of the staff was spread across the three of them, it made it possible to pause every now and again and watch the dancing, the flash of beauty as another charming woman swept by, or the shift of a redcoat on the dancefloor. More than one officer was among the dancers, their wool coats distinctive.

  The waltz was nearly at an end and Thomsett was considering preparing more iced drinks for the dancers, when a thin voice issued from the other side of the palm tree he was next to.

  “I don’t care what your plans are, John. I can only stay in England for a short while and I insist on seeing both of you safely situated before I leave. You are old enough now to settle down and secure the titles.”

  Thomsett had only heard her speak once, yet he recognized Lady Laceby’s nasal voice immediately. She was talking to Jack, in the corner provided by the potted palm.

  “Mother, you can’t simply arrive in London and insist that such things happen according to your schedule.”

  “You’ve had more than enough time. Wardell and his wife have introduced you to the cream of English society. Their friends are related to royalty. Did you not
think we took this into account when we fostered you with them?”

  “You want me to marry royalty?” Jack asked. His voice was strained. Thomsett thought he detected a note of incredulity in it that he tended to agree with. “I haven’t inherited the titles yet. I’m only the son of a Marquess. No princess is going to look at me twice.”

  “This is the modern age,” Lady Laceby replied calmly. “Look at the Princess Annalies. She married a commoner. Queen Victoria has five daughters. There are all the cousins that Princess Annalies is related to, as well. It behooves you to marry well, John. It is your responsibility.”

  Silence.

  “And you want this done before you return to India?” Jack asked, his tone one of utter politeness.

  “Who is that dancing with Patricia?” Lady Laceby demanded, her tone sharp. “What is he doing to her?”

  Thomsett looked for himself, his senses alert.

  Ben Hedley stood with Sharla. They were not even pretending to dance. Alarmed, Thomsett stepped over to the table and quickly poured from one of the decanters there, snatched up his tray and put the glass on it. Then he rounded the palm and faced Jack, who had a pinched look about his eyes.

  Lady Laceby was watching the dancers, her nostrils flared in anger.

  “Lord Guestwick,” Thomsett said, addressing Jack formally in front of his mother. “I found the whiskey you asked for. At least, I believe that this is the one. Would you mind tasting it to make certain?”

  The music halted and applause sounded.

  Lady Laceby gripped Jack’s sleeve as he reached for the glass. He left his arm hanging and used his other hand to grip the glass and drink deeply.

  “You must stop that association at once,” Jack’s mother insisted, in a low, hissing voice.

  Jack flinched. He hid it well, yet the strained look around his eyes deepened.

  Thomsett knew that Lady Laceby would pretend not to see or hear him until she needed something. It left him free to say to Jack, “Perhaps I did select the wrong bottle, my Lord. I’m sure I can arrange the correct drink for you if you wouldn’t mind pointing out the label you prefer?”

  Jack understood. He put the glass back on the tray. “That’s a fine idea,” he said. “Lead the way, Thomsett.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?” his mother demanded.

  “The cellar, Mother. Don’t follow me. There are spiders down there,” Jack lied with a straight face.

  * * * * *

  Lilly could see Jack’s stress from across the room. She believed she was the only one to notice, until Thomsett almost skidded around the palm in his haste to offer the drink on his tray.

  Lilly knew Jack had not asked for the drink. She had been watching him and his mother argue with polite expressions since Sadie and her mother had left to find Sadie’s father. She couldn’t hear Jack and Lady Laceby from across the room. Thomsett had clearly been able to overhear them.

  He’d interrupted the conversation and after a few seconds, both he and Jack left Lady Laceby by the palm, moving around the dancers, most of whom were fanning themselves and talking, or gulping water and other refreshments while the orchestra rested.

  Thomsett had drawn Jack away from his mother. It made Lilly smile.

  As the music had stopped and the first set of dances were over, Lilly thought it was time for her to make her way through the public rooms, find her mother and father and bid them goodnight, before going to her room. Surely no one would notice she was even gone.

  She slipped around the clusters of chatting dancers and into the hall beyond. Cian was standing on the first step of the big staircase, surveying the thick thongs of people moving through the hall and the groups standing and talking to each other.

  Lilly stepped up beside him. “You are smiling. I think you are the first of the family I’ve seen smile tonight.”

  “I’m enjoying this.”

  “Enjoying what? The ball?”

  “This. All of this. Look at it, Lilly. Really look at it. Look at us. The Great Family. We are, all of us, such wonderful people.”

  Lilly laughed. “You should stop drinking, Cian. It’s going to your head.”

  “I’m quite sober, thank you.” He gripped her shoulders and turned her so she was looking through the hall and into the ballroom beyond. “I think I’m in love.”

  “With whom?” she asked politely, because she had heard Cian make the same declaration before.

  “Us,” he said flatly. “I could not think of anything better than marrying back into the family.” He laughed. “That sounds positively outrageous, although I know you understand me. What could be better than falling in love with one of the cousins?”

  Lilly bumped his shoulder. “Careful, little brother. If you set your sights too narrow, you might miss out on a chance for real love.”

  “It would be real love,” he said, pretending to be affronted. Then he smiled again. “How could I fall in love with someone who doesn’t understand us? The family?”

  “Which is everyone else in the world,” Lilly finished. “I think you might be in a bit of a pickle, Cian.”

  He shook his head. “I remain optimistic,” he said stoutly.

  Lilly saw movement from the back of the hall, where one of the servants’ doors was located. Thomsett was there, talking to Paulson, both of them with grave faces.

  “Excuse me,” Lilly told Cian. She stepped back down onto the floor, around the newel post and moved down the hall toward the two butlers.

  They both gave her their attention as she approached. Paulson dropped his head forward. “Lady Lillian, may we do something for you?”

  “Thank you, Paulson. It is Thomsett to whom I wish to speak. Would you mind?”

  Paulson nodded again. “Of course, my lady.” He pushed the door open and disappeared inside.

  Thomsett lifted a brow. “What do you need, Lady Lilly?”

  Of the three butlers, Thomsett was the only one to shorten her name as the rest of the family did. She had not realized it until this moment. She was used to and actually preferred the family version of her name.

  Lilly put her hands together. “I saw you slide Jack away from Lady Laceby, Thomsett. I wanted to thank you for that.”

  He looked startled. “You saw?” Then he pulled himself together. “Lord Guestwick merely wanted a different whiskey than the one I served him.”

  “Of course,” Lilly said flatly. “You don’t drink, yourself, do you?”

  He hesitated. “No, I don’t drink,” he said shortly.

  Lilly nearly voiced the question that naturally rose from his answer. She withheld it. It was not her place to ask such a personal thing as to why a man would choose not to drink. Instead, she said: “Thomsett, my mother told me something rather strange a few days ago. She said that you had asked her if I was…” She cleared her throat. “If I was safe.”

  Thomsett’s expression was bland. “I believe that was the general tenor of the question I asked Lady Elisa,” he admitted. He waited.

  Lilly gripped her hands together tightly. “I wanted to ask you…” She swallowed again. Ask him! she railed at herself.

  “Yes, Lady Lilly?”

  Lilly forced herself to it. “Am I safe? In your professional opinion?”

  Thomsett straightened, snapping to it like someone caught doing something illicit. Then his face…shifted.

  Even afterward, Lilly could not describe exactly what she saw. It was as if he had dropped a mask. His gaze met hers. No polite shield hid his thoughts.

  It was the most visceral thing she had ever experienced and she shivered. It was no longer Thomsett, the family butler, standing in front of her.

  He has green eyes. How interesting. The thought whispered through her head as she looked up at him. And why had she not noticed how tall he was, before now? It was as if he was letting her see these things for the first time.

  Thomsett glanced around for eavesdroppers. It was a fast look. Then his gaze came back to her once more.
“I understand what you are asking me, Lady Lilly,” he said. Even his voice seemed to be different. Lower. Firmer.

  She shivered again.

  “However,” he added, “as I have no genuine knowledge of what you are referring to, I could not give you my opinion, professional or otherwise.”

  Lilly pressed her lips together. She realized she was wringing her hands and made them stop moving. “You have heard enough and guessed enough to ask my mother about my safety. What have you discerned, Thomsett? Do you see a need for caution?”

  The effort it took to ask that!

  Thomsett considered her. “You’ve turned pale,” he said softly.

  “I’m…” She drew in a breath. “I am afraid,” she admitted. There, it was out. She had not said that to anyone. Thomsett, though, was safe. He was part of the family, in a way.

  Thomsett’s gaze briefly shifted away from her again. He was looking for observers and listeners. He moved closer to her, to the point where his boots ruffled the hem of her dress. He spoke quietly. “The Aniruddha docked in Southampton three days ago. Lord Blackawton would have reached London two days ago. You do not socialize but even so, it might be wise to stay indoors for the next little while. At least until you know if he intends to act immediately. If he does not, then you may safely assume he has lost any interest in you.”

  Lilly couldn’t breathe properly. Her throat closed up. “How much do you know, Thomsett?” she whispered. The noises in the room, the music beyond, the conversations and laughter…it was all beating at her in waves. Throbbing in her ears.

  Thomsett’s gaze didn’t shift from hers. “I know that you are afraid,” he said, his voice low. “That is all I need to know.”

  Her heart squeezed and pattered in painful little beats.

  “Thomsett! Lilly!” The call came from the front of the hall.

  Lilly made herself turn and look. Cian was waving from his position near the newel post. Right behind him was her mother and Raymond.

  “I must go,” she murmured.

  “I, too, it seems.” Thomsett sounded amused. “Do you need to sit for a moment, Lilly?”