Artful Deceptions (23 page)

Melanie donned her jacket without bothering to smooth the heavy fabric into the proper lines or button it up to the ties of her shirt. “No doubt they are. You and he are the most practical, perverse, blind-headed people I’ve ever met. If that’s what he means by being well-suited, he is entirely correct. But in any other way, he is wrong. Names and titles are nothing. He loves me, as Galen loves you. If the two of you cannot return our feelings, it is a sorry state, but I cannot deny what I feel or fail to act on it. Apologize to Aunt Anne and Uncle Ross for my behavior, but I have to go with him. It is simply not in me to do otherwise.”

Arianne had the sense to recognize the difference between the voice of a woman in love and that of a giddy child. This was no child speaking now, and there was naught she could do to stop her. But she could be there to help her, whatever came of it. While Melanie pulled on her half-boots, Arianne slipped into her kid shoes and hurried toward the bedroom door.

She knew Melanie would be on the way to the stables before she could follow. Since Arianne couldn’t ride, there was only one other solution. Her brothers had shown her the room where Galen had taken them to properly outfit them for the country; it was undoubtedly his own room. Her heart beat against her ribs as she raised her hand to knock on the paneled door.

It swung open before she could make a sound. Galen caught her wrist, dropped a brief kiss to her cheek, and pulled her after him as he hurried down the corridor
.

“I’d hoped you would be ready. Hurry, the horses should be almost harnessed.”

Arianne flew after him down the stairs and through the back hall to the entrance leading into the stableyard. A cock crowed in the distance as they stepped into the cool morning air. Pink gleamed through the clouds on the horizon, but a fine mist coated her hair as they hurried across the yard to the stable.

“I knew Rhys would do it this way, so I had the grooms up early. I heard them ride out just a few minutes ago; we’ll not be far behind them. I hope Melanie was discreet about following, or we’ll likely find her trussed up in one of the stalls.”

Arianne would have giggled at the accuracy of Galen’s assessment of the situation had the matter not been so urgent. Rhys would be furious to know he was followed. Melanie’s reputation would be in tatters should it be discovered. Perhaps the damage could be recovered if Rhys were made to marry Melanie, but that wasn’t how either of them would want it. Ariane sighed in relief as a lightweight phaeton appeared at Galen’s signal.

“I’m sorry to have to submit you to another ride like this, but at least it’s not my reckless high-perch this time. I’m thinking of getting rid of that rig. It’s not at all appropriate for a married man, is it?”

He threw her up in the seat without waiting for a reply, stopping to check the harness and pat the horses before coming around to the driver’s seat. He swung up with the agility of an athlete, and with a whistle to the groom at the distant gate, set the horses into motion.

Once on the road, Galen steadied the horses to a gentle canter, and Arianne had time to realize the thoroughness of her disarray. Her hand flew to the long braid with which she had bound her hair the night before, then discreetly attempted to restore it to order.

Nervously she inquired, “Do you think Rhys has any chance of persuading his uncle to tell the truth?”

Galen caught the reins in one hand and used the other to stop her from twisting at the thick lengths of loosened hair. “Melanie will no doubt beat him into it, if he does not. We can stop somewhere along the way for you to arrange yourself. Leave it be, for now. Your hair is too beautiful to disguise, the way ladies insist on doing. I want to have your portrait done in dishabille, with your hair spilling over your shoulder like that.”

Arianne clutched her hands in her lap, not daring to lift her gaze to his. “I would feel better should I think Melanie looked the disaster I must for our hurried dressing this morning, but I know she will not. She could look smartly turned out in sackcloth, I’m certain.”

Galen grinned and clucked the horses to a greater speed. “Melanie would look a hoyden in ostrich feathers and court dress. Since I’ve never had a little sister, she suits the part admirably. But you were never the little-sister type even when you were in pigtails and giving me a much deserved set-down. For your information, I am not going to stop down the road to allow you to arrange yourself because you look a disaster, but because I fear I will be forced to fight off every man who sees you. I don’t mind a good fight, mind you, but we really must catch up with Melanie and Rhys sometime this day, and it’s not likely to happen should I be at fisticuffs with your admirers.”

“You have learned to play the part of rake well, my lord,” Arianne said coldly. “I had not cast that disparagement upon you before, but you have done your best to convince me of it these last days. I may not be accustomed to traveling in more enlightened circles, but I know Spanish coin when I see it.”

“Were I not so thoroughly enjoying this morning, I would call you to account for that, Miss Richards, but I have decided not to be downcast by anything you say this day. You realize you could be thoroughly compromised did I decide not to follow Melanie, but to take another path instead?”

“That would be extremely foolish of you. What would you have to gain? I am not an heiress and you are not a fortune hunter. If we can catch up with Melanie, we can save her from disgrace, and her family will shower you with gratitude. You might even persuade Melanie to reason when she finally sees Rhys does not mean to marry her.”

“I shudder at the thought of a reasonable Melanie. No, I much prefer her as she is, or even better, as Rhys’s wife. The poor fellow deserves her. No, the only reason I do not compromise you right now is that I want to show you what a good fellow I am before I propose to you properly. I think you are almost beginning to believe it. Why else would you come to me this morning instead of to anyone else?”

That silenced her, and Arianne glared at a wren warbling in the hedgerow as they rattled across a narrow bridge. Why, indeed? He was making her life much too complicated. There wasn’t an honest response she could make, and she held her tongue as the horses began the climb to the village Rhys called home.

As promised, Galen stopped at a small roadside inn when the sun was well above the horizon, burning off the last of the morning mist. While Arianne borrowed a small chamber to perfect her toilette to the best of her limited ability, Galen secured a small breakfast of rolls and cheese for them to eat along the way. When she returned to find him holding the large parcel of provisions and a yellow cotton bonnet to match her round gown, she had to laugh aloud at his boyish eagerness for approval.

“How could you know I was regretting my haste in leaving without a hat?” she demanded as they returned to the phaeton. “And how could you possibly find one to match so superbly?”

With an inordinately self-satisfied smirk at her pleasure, Galen shrugged his large shoulders. “You look stunning in yellow, and when I saw the hat hanging idle, I was unable to resist inquiring. Some guest left it behind, so you may have it snatched from your head if the original owner should see it, but I would not have you burn your lovely nose because of my neglect.”

Arianne sent him a sidelong glance, hearing the pleased tones of his voice at her approval and wondering at them. She knew him to be a strong, capable man who moved with confidence through the highest society as well as the rarefied atmosphere of London’s art world, yet his delight in achieving her approval seemed to be as great as if he had just purchased the
Mona Lisa.
She had seldom been in a position where her approval was sought, and she was left with a rather tingling sensation of anticipation that Galen might consider her wishes after all.

They eagerly consumed their breakfast as the horses carried them ever upward. The phaeton was of necessity slower than the single mounts ridden by such expert equestrians as Rhys and Melanie, but knowing their destination, there was no reason for concern. Without speaking the words aloud, they both knew they would be of no use until after the confrontation, when all they could do was pick up the pieces and sort them into respectable order before returning home. Rhys would not appreciate their presence in his private argument with his uncle, but someone had to protect Melanie from her rashness, and Rhys would not be in a position to do so.

So they laughed over the antics of the birds as they threw crumbs into the wind, sang songs without heed to the niceties of melody, and avoided the mention of what was to be done when they arrived. Despite her protests, Arianne bloomed under the attention of Galen’s compliments and concern, and his delight at achieving this reaction made for a merry journey.

Arianne thought she could very well travel like this into eternity were it not for her concern for her cousin. It had been so long since she had felt the wind in her face and smelled the earthy scents of cut grass and plowed fields that she had failed to remember their heady perfumes. She longed to sit in the long grass under the May sun and braid wildflowers into fairy crowns. She feared the longing had much to do with the attentive and handsome gentleman at her side, but that was another subject she tried not to think about. Infatuation was no sound basis for the future.

As they drew closer to the village nestled into the side of the hill, their voices grew silent. Galen stopped to ask directions of a hay-wagon driver, then urged the horses upward. He turned to check Arianne’s nose for sunburn, pulling the loose bonnet forward proprietarily to better shield her face. She didn’t remonstrate, but gazed up at him with big worried eyes that made him feel ten feet tall. Somehow, he had to bring this day to a happy conclusion just to see the joy return to her eyes.

They drove on through the sleepy village without any sight of Melanie or Rhys. They could have stopped to make inquiries, but they had mutually decided it would only stir talk, and for no reason. Rhys was going to his father’s estate, and Melanie was following. They didn’t need anyone to confirm their conclusion.

Galen turned the light gig from the main road onto a narrow lane shaded occasionally by overhanging trees. Arianne tightened her hands in her lap. She had come away without gloves, and she felt a veritable country bumpkin traveling to a manorial estate like this.

Galen shifted the reins to one hand to reach over and squeeze her bare hands as if he knew her thoughts, and when she looked up, his smile was reassuring. She shouldn’t let the warmth from his smile affect her so, but she needed his confidence to get through these next hours. It was one thing to visit the estates of an earl in the company of family and friends, quite another to appear unknown and unwanted on the doorstep of a haughty baron who had every reason to look at her with contempt. She would feel much better had she Melanie’s claim to aristocracy and the garments to go with it. Galen’s presence was scarcely protection enough from these insecurities.

“Llewellyn is only a man, not a tiger or bear,” Galen admonished, looking down at her worried frown. “We have only come to lend propriety to Melanie’s presence, not to beg a handout. And if you are worrying about your appearance, I shall shake you until your teeth rattle. You would look majestic in your nightrail—a sight which I am much looking forward to, I might add.”

Shocked, but also finding an unexpected heat in the image his words conjured, Arianne stared up at Lord Locke. The laughing mischief was no longer in his eyes. His glance seemed frightfully serious, and she gulped at the brief glimpse of something else in his gaze before he returned it to the horses.

If they continued so, she would find herself married to this man in truth, and the thought frightened as well as excited her. No romantic like Melanie, Arianne had no illusions about marriage. It wasn’t just singing through sunshine, but struggling to live with another’s beliefs and demands, trying to please someone besides yourself as well as yourself, hearing complaints about cold meals and extravagance, crying over illnesses.

But the same could be said if she were to marry Rhys. Marriage was a frightening enough step without this tremendous uncertainty nagging at the back of her mind. She wished she could be the kind of woman whom Galen admired, but she felt she fell far short of the ideal. She wasn’t at all certain why he had entangled her in this way, but his heart couldn’t possibly be in it. And she was beginning to have dire doubts about her theory that respect and friendship were all that were required for marriage.

And on top of all that, she was experiencing the lowering feeling that Lord Locke was beginning to stir those emotions whose existence she had denied, undermining her determined attempts to regard this affair logically.

Chapter Nineteen

The boxlike two-story stone walls of the Llewellyn estate rose before them as they rounded a bend in the lane. The grounds were elegantly manicured, but they lacked the life Arianne had discovered in the painting. She could see where the portrait had been done, with the mountain towering in the background, but the oil seemed more alive than the reality.

The rambling roses covered with buds that should be climbing the walls were pruned as severely as the yews. The ivy had been scythed to a level with the grass. The riotous rhododendrons were now clipped to a neat hedge. The childish toys Arianne had sensed would be strewn upon the ground in the landscape in the portrait were nowhere in evidence. Not even a servant appeared as the phaeton rattled up the drive.

Galen took the carriage into the stableyard, searching for some sign of Rhys’s and Melanie’s horses. Finding them grazing at the edge of the cobbled yard, he drew his grays to a halt. Someone should have come running from the stable to tend them, but lacking any evidence of such a personage, Galen leapt down and came around to lift Arianne from her seat, then turned to tending his animals himself.

Arianne paced the cobbled area, glancing up at the cold stone walls with trepidation as Galen watered his horses and released their harness
.
She didn’t like the atmosphere of this place. She had been worried about making an impression among haughty strangers, but now she was more concerned for Melanie’s safety. There was an emptiness here that did not bode well.