Artful Deceptions (25 page)

“I think perhaps Galen has a few things to say to my cousin that he wouldn’t appreciate my hearing,” Melanie told him. “Shall I stay with you just a little while? I promise not to interfere.”

Rhys had enough to deal with in his uncle and the threat of suicide that his current state implied. To add his concern for Melanie to his list of chores seemed too much to bear. But as her gentle fingers closed around his cravat, Rhys closed his eyes and surrendered to the floodwaters of emotion released by the broken dam of today’s discoveries. If he could just float along on the water for a little while instead of climbing onto the banks of reality ...

When he opened his eyes, Galen and Arianne were gone, and the misty blue of Melanie’s gaze pulled him deeper.

Chapter Twenty

“I don’t think we should have left her there. She’s distraught. She cannot be helpful in such a painful situation.” Arianne paced the floor of the library to which Galen had directed her. Her own emotions weren’t much better than Melanie’s. They galloped riotously through her breast, flinging sense and logic aside.

Galen placed the pistol inside a high bookcase and closed the glass door before turning to watch her pace. She still wore the silly bonnet he had found for her, and the yellows splashed like sunshine against the dusky gloom of the draped room. “I would have had to carry her out. And then we would have had to rope and tie her to keep her. I’ve known Melanie as long as you have. Let Rhys deal with her. He has enough sense for both of them.”

“But his uncle is in a very dangerous state,” Arianne protested, swinging to glare at him. It was much simpler to be angry with him than to confront her other feelings. “Where are the servants? Shouldn’t we send for someone in authority?”

Galen’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he stalked toward her. “There is no need for servants to spread the sordid story. I daresay Llewellyn dismissed them shortly after he returned, knowing Rhys would follow soon enough. And the baron is the authority around here. Shall we flee back to my father and seek his help?”

“There must be something we can do!” Arianne retreated to the nearest shelves, searching their titles as if the answer could be found there rather than face Galen. “I don’t think he is quite sane. We ought to get both of them out of here and leave someone else to deal with him.”

Galen stood behind her, leaving her with nowhere else to run. “I don’t doubt that love is reason enough to surrender sanity. We are not all mechanical creatures, you know. Emotions drive us to do exceedingly irrational things at times.”

She couldn’t continue standing with her back to him. Reluctantly Arianne turned in the small space left to her. She couldn’t quite catch her breath. Her eyes came level with the squareness of Locke’s chin, and she realized he hadn’t had time to shave this morning. She squirmed uneasily at the intimacy of this discovery.

Gentlemen were supposed to keep their distance. She shouldn’t know about such indelicate things as whiskers. She shouldn’t be able to notice that it was actually his shoulder muscles straining at his coat, and not the usual buckram padding. And she certainly shouldn’t notice that Lord Locke possessed a heady scent of his own, not one combined of colognes and snuff, but the fresh scents of soap and skin and healthy flesh. Her cheeks pinkened under his close perusal, and she answered defensively.

“Then perhaps we should beware of emotions, particularly when important decisions must be made. We claim to be a civilized society. We cannot behave as barbarians and do as we please because we feel like it.”

“I suppose not, or I would have most likely strangled you by now,” Galen replied calmly. “Or made violent love to you. I’m not at all certain which. Look at me, Arianne. Am I such an ogre?”

Clenching her fingers into fists against the wall of books, Arianne raised her gaze to meet Locke’s. Despite his strength and size and words, he did not threaten her in any way. He merely stood there waiting for her to see what she wouldn’t believe.

He was no ogre. She shook her head, unable to express her feelings. “I don’t think this is at all proper, my lord. Perhaps we should seek some servants to prepare tea. Surely there must be someone in the kitchen.”

“I don’t think strangling would be enough,” Galen mused aloud. “It’s too final. I would want to strangle you every night for a lifetime before I’d be satisfied. The other alternative makes much more sense. Don’t you agree?”

His smile was wicked as he leaned one hand on the shelf behind her head. If Arianne had thought him too close before, his proximity was suffocating now. She edged away before he could trap her entirely. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m certain I have done nothing to earn your wrath. I only meant to see that propriety is observed. Is that so wrong?”

“Have you never done anything improper, Arianne? Of course you have. You stole your father’s painting. And see where it has led us. Everyone is in an uproar. But your mother is enjoying the country, is she not? And it looks as if Rhys might have his inheritance returned. And perhaps even old Llewellyn might be reconciled with his wife, if the fates are kind. And maybe Melanie will persuade Rhys of her affections. All because you did something improper. So maybe it is time I encouraged you to more impropriety.”

Arianne stared at him as if he had gone mad. “You blame me for all this? I fail to see—”

Galen continued as if she had not interrupted. “I am beginning to fancy the idea of Scotland. Gretna Green is but a few days’ journey from here. The scenery should be magnificent this time of year. What do you think, Arianne? Let us do something impetuous. While everyone else is happily occupied, let us run for it. We can come back and do all the sensible things later. For just this once, let us do something for ourselves.”

Arianne was too aware of Galen’s lips so close to hers. They stopped her ability to think. She knew what he was suggesting was quite insane, but she couldn’t quite remember why. Pressing her hands against the bookshelves, she tried to force herself into flight, but it was too late. His head lowered, and his mouth closed over hers, and all chance at sense or logic fled.

There had to be madness in the magic just the touch of their mouths created. Arianne quivered beneath the gentle softness of his lips stroking hers, and she reached for more when Galen began to move away.

She knew it was a mistake the moment she did it. Instead of brushing his kiss lightly across her cheek as he had intended, he returned to eagerly pursue her reaction, and she lost all sense of what was right and wrong beneath his expert onslaught. Her hands even went so far as to betray her by stealing up his coat and clinging there when she could no longer stand on her own. Eyes closed, she let his hand steady her head and drifted into some dream world where only Galen’s kisses existed.

It couldn’t last, of course. A door slammed somewhere above. Angry voices rang out. Heavy boots pounded against wooden floors in pursuit of the light drum of feminine feet. Galen stepped back, releasing Arianne’s head, although his hand remained protectively resting on the shelf behind her. Arianne disentangled her fingers from his cravat where they had so amazingly strayed.

“Galen! I want to go home. Right now. Where are you? I shall go by myself if you do not appear at once.”

There was no mistaking Melanie’s voice, or the rage in it. Arianne glanced to Galen, seeing his struggle for composure as a reflection of her own. But he was much more experienced at it than she. With a wry look he pressed a kiss to her forehead and righted himself.

“Perhaps we could take her with us as a bridesmaid?” At the dazed look of incomprehension in Arianne’s face, he managed a small chuckle. “Perhaps not. Come along, then. I do not wish to engage your family’s fury just yet, and certainly not over the matter of a willful brat.”

He pulled her along after him, leaving the library for the brightness of a hallway illuminated by a gaping front door. Rhys had just maneuvered his wooden foot down the last of the stairs when they appeared, and the anger and pain in his expression left little room for question.

“Go after her, Locke. I cannot leave my uncle alone like this.” The unspoken plea in his voice said all that he could not.

“Melanie’s wayward, but she’s not a fool; she’ll be waiting out in the courtyard. Bring your uncle back to my father’s if you will. It would be better to settle these matters in the company of others.”

Rhys looked relieved at Galen’s reassurances. The men shook hands, and Rhys spared Arianne a brief look as Galen reached to pull her after him again. “Miss Richards, I don’t know what to say. Melanie ...”

“Say nothing. I understand. Please hurry after us, or we shall worry.” Arianne felt Galen’s eager tug on her arm, but she felt some empathy for the worried man casting glances after her departed cousin. Rhys seemed to be caught up in the same gale-force winds that buffeted her about. With a rueful smile she waved and ran after Galen.

They entered the stableyard just as Melanie gained her seat on the horse. Galen left Arianne standing on the lawn as he swiftly crossed the drive to head her off. “I’ll turn you over my knee and beat some sense into you if you ride out of here without us, Melanie Elizabeth!” He grabbed the horse’s bridle before she could whip it into motion.

Sighing, Arianne lifted her skirt and hurried to come between these two. It was rather like watching her two youngest brothers scuffle over some toy. Perhaps they were too much alike. Melanie appeared ready to use the crop on Galen, and he seemed quite prepared to carry out his threat. Neither one of them cared a fig that the other might have equal right for being upset.

“Melanie, I wish you would ride with me in the gig. Galen has a passion for speed and I’m not certain I’m prepared to go down the mountain in full flight.”

Arianne pressed her hand to Galen’s arm, forcing him into a less threatening position, while she looked up to Melanie with her request for aid.

Melanie blinked back tears and attempted to focus on her cousin. It took a moment for her to realize that Arianne was requesting her help, a practice that was almost unheard-of in all their years. She wasn’t even certain what the request was, but she nodded blankly, not caring what was asked of her. She threw a hopeless look back to the house, wishing for the magical appearance of a dark-coated masculine figure, but the house loomed as cold as his heart. Without protest, she allowed Galen to help her down.

Arianne sent Galen a concerned glance over Melanie’s shoulder, but he could only shake his head in reply. They could not know the argument until Melanie told them. All they could do was get her home.

Clouds pushed across the sun as they made the journey back down the hillside. What had begun as a beautiful promise of a day now became overcast and their silence reflected the same mood. Galen rode Melanie’s horse beside the phaeton and made occasional attempts at wit, but Melanie had lost her usual cheerfulness, and Arianne’s concern didn’t allow for much laughter. She thrust aside all memory of those minutes in the library. They hadn’t been themselves, that was obvious. That house back there had cast some pall of madness upon them all. She could only hope Rhys could pull away.

“Do you think Gordon will take me back to Somerset with him? I don’t wish to finish the Season. It’s quite boring, actually.” Being more experienced with carriages and horses, Melanie handled the reins, not realizing she left her cousin with nothing to do to choke back her thoughts.

Arianne grasped this topic eagerly. “I’m certain Gordon will be happy to do whatever you request, knowing Gordon, but are you certain that is the best thing to do? There will be questions. Daphne and Evan will be concerned that their hospitality was not as it should be. Are you not taking the coward’s way out?”

Melanie’s lovely face somehow adopted a mulish expression. “I am being sensible for a change. Such frivolity is meaningless. I can be of help to Gordon, I know I can. He really ought to marry, but until he does, I can be useful. Perhaps I can even look about to find him a wife.” She brightened slightly at that thought.

“I’m certain he will be appreciative,” Arianne responded dryly, looking to Galen as he approached the carriage now that the road had widened. His buckskins strained over muscled legs as he maneuvered his horse around in the road, and she had to force her gaze upward in the direction of his cravat before she could recover her train of thought. She seemed to be quite rapidly losing her mind. The brilliance of his smile as he walked the horse back to them made her cheeks hot with guilt.

“Have I missed something?” The question was directed at Melanie’s rebellious expression, but Galen’s gaze was arrested by the interesting flush on Arianne’s cheeks.

“I have decided to return to Somerset with Gordon,” Melanie replied, clicking the horses to a faster gait.

“And to help Gordon find a wife,” Arianne added, certain Galen would appreciate the irony.

His look of amusement told her he did, and she felt some satisfaction in that. Perhaps he was not playing a part when he said he thought of Melanie as a sister. She just wished he hadn’t proposed to her cousin first. Perhaps under the circumstances he had felt obligated to do so, but the memory still rankled. He didn’t have to look so smug.

Galen continued in the same strain, ignoring the tempest forming in Arianne’s eyes. “But don’t you think you should see me married off to Arianne before you start on poor Gordon? She’s quite likely to stray without someone helping her stay in line.”

Melanie gave his cheerfulness a suspicious glance. “I’m not at all certain I would be doing her a favor to see her married off to the likes of you, Galen Locke. I cannot imagine why she agreed to marry you in the first place. She is usually much more sensible than I.”

“Will the two of you quit talking about me as if I’m not here?” Irritably Arianne shook back her bonnet and tried to arrange a tickling hair back into her braid. “If our wayward attachments are open for discussion, we would do better to discuss why Rhys is not here with you now. I’d thought the two of you would finally come to some understanding.”