A Season of Ruin (16 page)

Lady Chase was very like those vases, with her aged majesty and her flawed blue eyes.

For the first time that day, the old woman seemed to hesitate, but after a moment she held a hand out to Lily. “Come here, girl, and let me have a look at you.”

Lily's eyes found Robyn's then. It would worry her later, how she'd instinctively sought him out, as if she couldn't stir a step toward her grandmother without seeing him first, as if his dark eyes were the only means by which her feet could move across the floor. He returned her gaze with a look so warm and encouraging, it was as if he'd taken her hand.

Lily straightened her spine, held her head high, and crossed the room to Lady Chase, who still stood with her hand extended. Lily took it and felt the gnarled fingers close tightly around hers.

“So like her,” Lady Chase murmured, as if to herself. “The eyes, yes, and the hair, and yet there's some of Henry Somerset there, too. I see it.”

Lily, shocked to hear her father's name on Lady Chase's lips, had a sudden urge to snatch her hand away, but she resisted it. She'd always thought her grandmother despised her father, but Lady Chase's voice was soft when she spoke of him, not angry or bitter.

Lily looked into her grandmother's eyes and saw they'd gone cloudy, as if Lady Chase were lost in her memories. “My lady?”

The old lady seemed to come to herself again when Lily spoke. She cleared her throat. “Well, well, child. You're the very image of your mother, as I'm sure you've been told many times.”

“Yes, my lady,” Lily replied, then added hesitantly, “My sisters and I all resemble her greatly, Lady Chase.”

“Indeed, indeed. Five of you, are there? The new Lady Carlisle the eldest? I saw her once, you know, several weeks ago, shopping on Bond Street. Knew her right away as Millicent's daughter, just as I knew you last night.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Lily murmured, not sure what else to say.

“Why did you run away, child?”

Lady Chase's voice had gentled, and to her horror, Lily felt hot tears gather in her throat. She swallowed. “I—the scandal, my lady. There's been some unpleasantness, and I was afraid—”

“Ah. You mean that Tittleton creature, I assume?” Lady Chase waved an imperious hand. “There will be no more of
that
, I can assure you. The woman has been dealt with. She will not bother you again.”

Lily's mouth dropped open. Had Lady Chase found a way to silence Mrs. Tittleton's gossiping tongue? It seemed too good to be true, but then Lily recalled there had been nothing in the paper this morning about last night, and they'd all been so sure there would be.

“I'm very appreciative—” Lily was about to express her gratitude when the greater implications of Lady Chase's actions struck her and rendered her mute.

Her grandmother had
protected
her from Mrs. Tittleton. It was the very last thing in the world Lily would have expected. What could it mean?

Lady Chase waved off her thanks. “Never mind, never mind. Now, I've come to call today to extend an invitation for tomorrow night. A small affair at my town house. Just a few intimate friends and the . . . family.”

She stumbled a little over the last word, then went on. “Your family will attend as well, Lady Catherine, and Lord and Lady Carlisle. You are
all
welcome, I suppose,” she added, casting a dubious eye in Robyn's direction.

The room plunged into silence as every eye in the room fixed on Lady Chase.

Lady Catherine recovered first. “That is very kind, my lady, but might I inquire—”

“If you are otherwise engaged, you will change your plans,” Lady Chase ordered. “I insist upon it.” A quick rap with the cane punctuated this statement.

Robyn had remained by the door throughout the whole of this exchange, but now he stepped farther into the room. “My mother means to inquire into your intentions toward Miss Somerset, Lady Chase.”

Lady Chase turned and looked him up and down. “She does, eh? Do you,” she asked, facing Lily again, “have questions in regards to my intentions as well, child?”

Lily took a deep breath. “Yes, Lady Chase.”

The blue eyes softened a little. “I'm not Lady Chase to you, child. I'm your grandmother, and you are my deceased daughter's child. My intention is we all begin to behave as such. I have made a start today, and this is how I intend to go on. We've been too long estranged. Do you not agree?”

“I do,” Lily whispered. “My mother deeply regretted the estrangement. My sisters and I have always regretted it as
well, both for her sake and our own. But why, after all these years—”

“Your grandfather died last year,” Lady Chase said abruptly. “Were you aware? He passed on not three months after the terrible accident that took your parents. I've always thought he died of . . . well, no matter what I thought.”

Her voice trailed off. Lily remained silent, waiting.

“He was a hard man, your grandfather. A good man, but a hard one. Unforgiving. He paid dearly for it, too. Oh my, yes, he did.”

Lily heard the slight break in her grandmother's voice and thought of the beautiful vases, made more so because of their distinctive cracks and flaws. She placed her hand over her grandmother's dry, thin one.

Lady Chase patted her hand. “There. It's settled. I shall see you all tomorrow evening.”

With one final severe glance in Robyn's direction, Lady Chase swept out the door.

There wasn't enough wine in the world to get him through this evening.

A small fete, Lady Chase had said. Just a few intimate friends and the family. Robyn looked around at the fifty or so guests assembled in the ballroom. Either Lady Chase had a great many intimate friends, or the old dragon had lied.

She had provided quite a surfeit of drink, however, and he was doing everything in his power to do justice to it.

“Thirsty, are you?” Alec gestured to Robyn's empty glass.

Robyn watched in disgust as his brother took a judicious sip from his own full glass. “Or something. Christ, Alec. Delia could do a better job with that wine than you are.”

“I could, indeed,” Delia agreed.

Alec snorted. “For about half an hour, and then you'd see that wine again, and under far less appetizing circumstances.”

Delia's mouth dropped open. “Alec!”

Robyn rolled his eyes and grabbed a glass from a passing tray. He looked at it with distaste. Wine would have to do until he managed to escape this hell, or ferret out where the late Lord Chase kept his whiskey.

Delia arched an eyebrow at her husband. “I'll have you know I feel quite well. Better than I have in weeks.”

Alec gave her an appraising look. “You look fatigued, Lady Carlisle. I'll have the carriage brought round.”

Delia frowned. “Certainly not. It's not every day one gains a new family member, is it? I could hardly believe it when Lily told me.”

“I can hardly believe it
now
,” Robyn muttered.

Delia turned to watch as Lord Atherton maneuvered Lily into another sweeping turn in the dance. “Lily appears to be enjoying herself.”

Atherton. It had to be bloody Atherton.

Robyn emptied his wineglass with one swallow. “Yes, doesn't she?”

Lord Atherton hadn't spared Lily a glance during the Mrs. Tittleton debacle. He hadn't spoken a word to her at Almack's, and yet there she was in his arms, smiling up at him as if he were the most compelling man she'd ever met.

She had a bloody short memory.

Mere hours ago she'd been in Robyn's arms, pressed against him, pleading with him to—

Delia broke into his reverie. “You don't sound at all pleased about it, Robyn. You're happy for her, aren't you?”

Was
he happy for her? He should be. He knew better than anyone it meant the world to Lily to be reunited with her grandmother. Lady Chase had made Mrs. Tittleton and her ugly scandal disappear, and by the most wondrous stroke of luck, Lady Chase and Lady Atherton were the oldest and dearest of friends.

Yes, wasn't that fortunate?

Robyn glanced over at those two worthy ladies, huddled together like a couple of cantankerous old sheep. The two
dowagers commanded a view of the entire room from where they stood, and even from this distance, Robyn could see both their gazes fixed on Atherton and Lily.

Yes, the stars had finally aligned in Lily's favor, and if one could judge by Atherton's ridiculously satisfied expression, her plans were falling neatly into place at last.

Of course he was bloody happy for her. Ecstatic, even. He'd never been happier about anything in his life, damn it. If his stomach churned with bile and queasiness clutched at his throat, it was the fault of the watery wine he'd drunk. It hadn't a thing to do with Lily and Atherton.

Though he would have thought she'd at least have some difficulty transferring her affections to Atherton after she'd kissed
him
with such abandon. It was almost
impolite
, how completely she seemed to have forgotten him.

Without thinking, he raised his empty glass to his lips again, but lowered it when he noticed Delia and Alec looking at him expectantly. Delia had asked him a question, hadn't she? What the devil was it? Oh, yes—wasn't he happy for Lily?

He pasted a grim smile on his face. “Delighted.”

Delia raised an eyebrow. “My goodness.
That's
delighted? You look as if a horse stepped on your foot.”

“It's just that I can't imagine why Lily looks so amused,” Robyn said. “Atherton's never said an entertaining word in his life. He's as dull as a page of Latin declensions. Isn't he, Alec?”

Alec shrugged. “He's a steady sort. I don't know if that means he's dull. Steadiness could be just what Lily needs.”

Robyn glared at his brother.
Traitor
.

Delia mulled this over. “Perhaps,” she said after a brief hesitation.

Robyn studied her. She didn't sound convinced. Could it be Delia thought Atherton wasn't right for Lily?
How interesting
.

He hadn't time to question her, however, for the dance concluded and Atherton led Lily back to Delia's side.

“My goodness, it's warm, isn't it?” Lily asked. Her cheeks were stained a fetching shade of pink and she was breathless from her exertions in the dance.

For some reason Robyn didn't care to probe into, her breathlessness annoyed him. “Not at all. Perhaps you've overexerted yourself with excessive dancing, Miss Somerset?”

Lily gave him a cool look. “One dance is hardly excessive, Mr. Sutherland.”

Robyn's jaw went so tight, a breath of air could have shattered it. “That depends on the dance.”

Atherton cleared his throat. “May I fetch you some refreshment?” he asked, bowing to Lily.

Yes, do, Atherton. Take yourself off.

Before Lily could answer, Delia intervened. “It's lovely to see such color in your cheeks, Lily, but I'm afraid you look a little too flushed. Gentlemen, if you would excuse us?”

“Thank you for the dance, Miss Somerset.” Atherton bowed again. “I hope you will honor me again this evening?”

“Of course,” Lily murmured with a smile as she and Delia went off in search of the ladies' retiring room.

Silence descended as soon as Alec, Robyn, and Lord Atherton were left alone.

“How are you, Atherton?” Alec asked at last. “I hope your mother is well?”

“Yes, indeed. Very well, thank you, Carlisle. Your own mother is well?”

“Yes, very well, I thank you.”

Another silence as they all stared blankly at each other.

“Miss Somerset is a charming young lady,” Lord Atherton offered at last.

Alec snatched at it. “Yes—”

Before he could get a second word out, however, Robyn interrupted him. “She was charming last week as well,
Atherton. She's been charming since she arrived in London, weeks ago. Did you not happen to meet her during that time?”

Atherton turned a cold, speculative eye upon Robyn. “No, indeed. I have not had the pleasure of her acquaintance before this evening.”

Lying bastard.

“No? How odd that you didn't meet her at Almack's last Wednesday, for I'm sure I saw you there. You danced with our sister Charlotte, I believe?”

Atherton shrugged. “I believe I did, yes—dance with Miss Sutherland, I mean. I was not introduced to Miss Somerset on that occasion, however.”

Another lie.

“Curious, isn't it, that you never met before?”

Robyn noticed a faint flush rise above Atherton's collar, but his voice remained cool. “I confess I don't see what's so curious about it, Sutherland. London is a large city. I'd venture to say I haven't made the acquaintance of every young lady out this season.”

“Certainly not those young ladies who don't matter anyway,” Robyn said, his own voice deceptively casual.

Atherton's flush deepened. “What does that mean, sir?”

Robyn shrugged. “I simply find it interesting you never met Miss Somerset until Lady Chase publicly acknowledged her.”

Atherton bared his teeth in a cold smile. “It sounds as though you accuse me of something, Sutherland, but I'm at a loss to determine what.”

“We all have our vices, don't we?” Robyn asked.

“
You
certainly do,” Atherton shot back.

“Indeed I do, and I'm man enough to own up to them. What could yours be, Atherton, that you've gone to such lengths to hide them?”

Atherton took a threatening step toward Robyn. “Now see here—”

Alec laid a hand on Atherton's arm. “What does it matter when Lily and Lord Atherton met?”

Robyn turned to find Alec looking at him as though he'd lost his wits. “I'll tell you why it matters—”

“I'm sure she's happy to have made your acquaintance at last,” Alec said to Atherton, throwing a quelling look in Robyn's direction.

Atherton bowed to Alec. “You're too kind, Carlisle.”

Atherton turned to Robyn then, his look so icy it could freeze fire. “I assure you she can't be as gratified to make my acquaintance as I am to make hers. Now, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I believe my mother is looking for me.”

Alec nodded. “Of course.”

Atherton gave Robyn a smug smile. “Oh, and, Sutherland? Now that I've had the pleasure of meeting Miss Somerset, you can be quite sure I won't overlook her again.”

He held Robyn's eyes for a beat longer than necessary before he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Robyn stared after him for a moment, then turned to face his brother. “I never thought I'd agree with Atherton, but you
are
too kind, Alec.”

“Is that so?” Alec said, in the same tone he'd used when he'd caught ten-year-old Robyn hiding rotten eggs in his tutor's bedchamber. “Just what do you have against Atherton?”

Robyn drained his third glass of wine. “The man's an iceberg, Alec. The water appears still and blue on the surface, but the next thing you know, your boat has been shattered to pieces and you've drowned.”

Alec laughed. “Such a dramatic analogy. But I think you credit Atherton with far more complexity of character than he has. Besides, I've never heard a word said against him.”

The floor shifted a little under Robyn's feet. “No. No one has. But then no one ever breathed a word against our father, either.”

He hadn't meant to say it. He didn't even realize he thought it until the words were out of his mouth, but it was true. There was something off about Atherton—something disturbing lurking under that smooth surface.

Robyn half expected his brother to be angry, but Alec only considered him for a moment, then said, “If you think so, we'll keep a close eye on him.”

Robyn let go of the breath he'd been holding. “Good.”

“But take care you don't have some other, more complicated reason to chase away Lily's suitors, Robyn.”

Robyn opened his mouth to deny he had any reason whatsoever, but then closed it again. There wasn't any point trying to hide things from Alec—never had been, either. “It's damned inconvenient sometimes, having you as a brother.”

Alec smirked. “Yes, I imagine it is.”

“I'm off to pursue more worldly pleasures—promised Archie I'd meet him later, and it will please Lady Chase if I go. Took an instant dislike to me, she did. I can't imagine why.”

“I can,” Alec called after him as Robyn marched across the ballroom to pay his respects to his hostess.

He'd bid Lady Chase a good evening, and then as far as he was concerned, she could go to the devil, and Atherton along with her.

He hated routs, or fetes, or whatever this evening's entertainment was called, almost as much as he hated musical evenings. Why, he could be up to his knees in whiskey by now, or bedding that actress—what was her name? The one in the trousers. Louise Bannister. He could be up to his neck, or some other more sensitive part of his anatomy, in Louise Bannister.

Lily had hardly looked his way once this evening. She didn't need his escort now, or anyone's, come to that. Archie would be devastated to hear it, enamored as he was with her. He was under Lily's spell. Fascinated by her. Poor old
Archie was so besotted, he'd actually
wanted
to escort her to every dull entertainment of the season.

Robyn made a disgusted sound in his throat. Thank God he hadn't got his own foot caught in
that
trap.

It was past time to leave her to her well-laid plans and her suitors and the lavish attention of her aristocratic grandmother, and go back to his own pursuits. Like securing a mistress, for a start. He hadn't been half out of his clothes with desire for Louise Bannister, but she'd do in a pinch.

And it bloody pinched, all right. He'd been in a heightened state of arousal for weeks.
Lily's fault, as well.

The desire he felt for her wouldn't last much longer, surely. The novelty of the prim seductress was bound to wear off soon, and who better to help it on its way than a practiced siren like Louise Bannister?

He drew to a halt before Lady Chase, fixed a bland smile on his face, and swept into an exaggerated bow. “My lady, I thank you for a pleasant evening. I have a prior engagement, and must bid you good night.”