Emily Hendrickson (16 page)

“Miss Herbert, any other pastimes you know?” he asked.

“What about a play? You have several books of them in the library. Perhaps a light comedy? We could copy out the various parts and read them—no need to memorize or anything so tedious.” She looked pointedly at Lady Felicia. She did not give that lady high marks for mental ability.

He cleared his throat, covering his mouth with his hand.

“A play?” Lady Felicia gave a tinkling laugh. “I must admit that is a clever notion. I had no idea you could think. Miss Herbert.”

“Perhaps it is as well you don’t know what I think, Lady Felicia.” Dru smiled.

Lord Brentford took Dru by the arm. “Felicia, perhaps you wish to dress for dinner and stun us all with your beauty.”

“What a dear you are,” the lady exclaimed. “I shall at once. Perfection is not achieved in a moment, you know.” She whirled about and lightly went up the stairs.

“Come, we shall locate the book you mentioned.” Dru found herself steered into the library. Once there, he shut the door and collapsed against it, laughing. “Remind me never to fall into a battle of words with you, my dear. I would never win.” He recovered his usual mien and guided
Dru to the area where plays were shelved.

“This is a comedy. I think something light might be suitable, all things considered.” She pulled out one book.

He nodded agreement.
“The Delusion.
There are so many ways one could take that.”

“Indeed. I fancy it is rather easy to be deluded. Particularly if there is one who is gifted at such things.” She fixed her gaze on him, allowing him to see her skepticism.

“I trust you to keep a level head on your shoulders.”

“Naturally. I always do.” Which wasn’t quite the case when it came to him. She had silly delusions, but nothing serious. She did not dislike him anymore. As to how she did feel about him, she refused to consider the matter. There was too much else to do.

Priddy rapped on the door, then nudged it open. “Your mother wishes to speak with you, my lord.”

He nodded, stuffing the book into Dru’s hands before leaving the library.

She studied the little book, wondering what would happen when they read out the parts. It wouldn’t be dull, that was certain. Nor, her heart replied, would she likely be spared Lady Felicia’s ire.

Chapter Ten

Dinner, by anyone’s standard, was a rousing success.

There were a few moments when Drusilla doubted the wisdom of inviting Lydia and Belinda to join the party. Lady Felicia took one look, and sweetly queried both girls on their backgrounds. When she discovered they were no more than green girls, quite in awe of her sophistication, and far from being competition in her eyes—she relaxed. Everyone else was able to as well.

Lady Brentford had not missed the assessment of her local beauties. Dru caught her frowning as she listened to the politely edged questions casually tossed out by Lady Felicia. None were rude, but most bordered on intrusive.

Lady Brentford fixed her gaze on Dru, and she wondered what was to come next.

“Adrian tells me you selected a play for our amusement. Have you decided who is to take part in it?”

Before Dru could reply. Lord Brentford spoke up. “No, Mother, we haven’t had time. Perhaps, following dinner, I might meet with the—ahem—coproducer? Miss Herbert?”

This pronouncement met with general laughter, as he likely intended. Dru didn’t miss the darted glance from Lady Felicia. Did she perhaps think Dru would attempt to capture Lord Brentford? What utter nonsense!

Harry Metcalf was in his element, impressing Lydia with his knowledge of London Society. Dru caught a skeptical look in the girl’s eyes and was thankful the chit wasn’t gullible, as well as refreshingly sweet.

Gregory Vane sat to one side of Dru, with Belinda on his other side. At the removal of the first course, when there was that inevitable lapse while dishes were removed and the second course brought forth, he turned to Dru.

“May I applaud you on your excellent choices for augmenting our group? They are delightful, unaffected girls.”

“Oh, do you think so? I had the same feeling.”

“And they are no threat to the beauty.” He grinned.

“True,” she replied with a smile. The footmen were placing the second course on the table. Once that was consumed, those dishes and the finger bowls were removed. The sweets were then offered, as well as the contents of the epergne, the nuts, dried fruits, and the hothouse offerings.

When the women left the room, there was a feeling of anticipation in the air. Dru hoped Lady Felicia would not demand the starring role. Although from what she had scanned, it was not easy at first glance to determine just who was the leading lady.

Lydia and Belinda offered to play and sing, which they did with commendable charm.

“Ah, youth,” muttered Lady Felicia, “such enthusiasm.”

“I am certain you have not lost all of yours,” Dru remarked with charity.

“How kind!” her ladyship said with surprise.

Dru merely looked meek and hoped that was sufficient.

“The gentlemen join us,” Lady Brentford declared. “I propose a game of cards.” She motioned to her friends to join her. Harry Metcalf and Gregory Vane immediately sought Belinda and Lydia. With a suspicious look at Lord Brentford, Lady Felicia queried his meeting with Dru, remarking, “I expect you won’t be long?” She said nothing more, but the look she cast at Dru held doubt.

“Not long at all.” Adrian beckoned to Miss Herbert to join him in the library. She came, but seemed wary of him, quite as though she didn’t trust him—or was it herself she failed to trust?

The hall was deserted, as was the library. A low fire burned in the grate, casting warm light on the Turkey rug that graced the room. He lit the Argand lamp that sat in the center of the round library table.

“What do you think of our choice?” He wondered if she knew how her lavender scent tantalized him, or what effect the firelight had on her blond tresses, turning them to a burnished gold. He liked her simple gown of aqua-blue, reminding him of the sea on a summer day, with lace trim like foam. It was a far cry from the over-embellished pink creation adorning Lady Felicia.

“I merely looked it over, but I think it will do.” Dru glanced up at him, a question in her eyes.

“It has been some time since I read it, but it is a light farce with everyone misunderstanding everyone else.”

“Very well.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced, but it was of no matter. After all, this was merely something to pass the time, to amuse them on a rainy day. “Now, as to the cast?”

“Sir Artifice will be Lord Ives, I believe,” Adrian decided. “Lady Felicia will undoubtedly do well as Lady Fallacy. And Lord Humbug could be Gregory Vane. His ladylove. Miss Sham, could be Lydia Percy and Belinda Oaks could play Miss Fancy. What about if you do Miss Construe, and I shall take Lord Grasp?”

She had an adorably confused expression that he found enormously appealing. “You want me to take the part of Miss Construe? Why ever for?”

“You have a pleasant voice, and would be plausible in the part. Not that you misconstrue things. Do you?” He was close enough so he could sense her tension when he lightly touched her hand.

“There are moments when I wonder if I do. I should think it wouldn’t be all that difficult to find yourself living in a fool’s paradise. It is easy, I suspect, to have the wrong idea about something or someone.” She turned so she could look him in the eyes.

“You fear you have the wrong notion of someone?”

“I do.” Her voice was a mere thread, a whisper. She searched his eyes, her own rich aqua-blue a liquid in which he might gladly drown.

He took a step, as he had earlier. Only this time there was no one around to interrupt. She didn’t back away from him, and he took heart from her open expression. Her lips parted as though to speak. He silenced them the best way he knew how.

Her lips, when he touched them, were the softest of velvets; her skin put a rose petal to shame. The delicate scent of lavender haunted the very air around her. He gathered her close in his arms, and to his delight she responded wholeheartedly.

Her hands inched up to rest on his shoulders, and he was elated at their closeness. His hands learned the shape of her as she nestled against him. Such a delight was one that could be repeated forever, and he doubted he would ever tire of it—or her. He trailed a finger along her jaw, liking the tender line of it and reveling in her gasp of pleasure. He was about to repeat their kiss, longing to deepen it, when he heard sounds.

There were voices in the hall, drat it. Gently, he turned her so that she faced the table once again. And he took two steps away from her to be safe from her allure.

There was not a chance in the world that he would marry Lady Felicia now. He had tasted paradise, and he would never settle for nothingness.

“Dru . . .” he began.

The door burst open, and Lady Felicia marched in towing Lord Ives with her. “Well? You have been in here long enough to write an entire play!”

In a clear, composed voice Drusilla Herbert said, “We have assigned the various parts. Should you wish to join us in copying them out?”

“Write? Never! That would be far too tedious.” She studied Dru first, then transferred her gaze to Adrian. Suspicion hung over her like a shroud.

“Perhaps Belinda and Lydia would assist? Lord Brentford, would you be a dear and ask them?” Only the expression in her eyes revealed a hint of what had passed between them. Fortunately, she did not look at Lady Felicia, who would have spotted that hint of sensuality immediately.

His mouth quirked up at one corner at her daring to call him a dear. Lady Felicia would pounce on that at once.

“I doubt he is your ‘dear’ anything, Miss Herbert.” Lady Felicia abandoned Lord Ives to cling to Lord Brentford’s arm. Lord Ives did not look pleased.

“I did not say that he was, precisely. But I appreciate his help. Is not that esteemed? Must we not admire a gentleman who is gracious and obliging? I do.”

“Oh.” Lady Felicia did not appear to know how to respond to the politely worded remark. The trouble with Dru was that she handled Felicia with such gentleness that the lady didn’t know what to make of her. Adrian bit back a grin, exchanging a knowing look with Ives. After rummaging about in his desk drawer, Adrian found what he wanted.

“Here is a stack of paper for you, and I believe there are some pens somewhere around here.”

“There are seven characters, but I believe Belinda and Lydia could share a copy of the play.” Dru walked to the desk, taking the seat where Adrian usually sat when he wrote letters. She pulled a few pieces of paper to her, picked up a pen, and began to write.

The others stood silently, staring.

She glanced up absently. “Do fetch them for me, will you? Someone?”

Only Adrian likely noticed that her hand shook a trifle and that the color in her cheeks was a bit higher than usual. Good. It was comforting to know that he affected her as much as she did him!

“Well, I must say, Adrian, to order you about in your own home!” Lady Felicia sputtered.

“That was a request, and it is for our benefit. Come, let us fetch Miss Percy and Miss Oaks.”

When they were gone, Dru let out a sigh and leaned against the back of the chair. Mercy! She had never believed a kiss could be like that, to so enthrall you that you scarce knew where you were. She was a wicked girl—she must be—for she would welcome another kiss just like it.

What a blessing that Lady Felicia had waited as long as she had before intruding on the library. Dru would have hated to miss one moment of that kiss.

Placing an elbow on the desktop, she leaned a cheek on her hand, sinking into a lovely reverie. She was falling into a delusion if she thought she was going to have a happy ending like Miss Construe in the play!

“Are we to help you?” Lydia caroled as she popped around the corner.

“Mama said I have a good hand,” Belinda piped up as she came into the library on Lydia’s heels.

“Here is paper and some pens. Perhaps we could put the play in the center of the library table, and all use it at once?” Dru reluctantly rose from the chair she knew belonged to Lord Brentford. The faintest hint of bay rum, along with fine leather, clung to it, reminding her of him.

“I had no idea it would be so exciting to come here,” Lydia confided.

“Pay attention to the parts of the cousins. We decided you two could read the two cousins. I shall let you decide who will read which part.” Dru was thankful for her inspired thought, eliminating any ill feeling between them.

Within minutes the three settled down to write. It was surprising how quickly they wrote, how fast the pages piled up.

“We shall be done this evening, I vow,” Belinda said quietly.

“I believe you are right,” Dru murmured. She could hear the sound of laughter coming from the other room. Lady Felicia would be pleased to have four men all to herself. She wondered what they did. A game, perhaps? Her mind strayed to possibilities, and her pen ceased to write.

“Is there a problem? Do you need the ink pot?” Lydia inquired earnestly.

Dru shook her head and returned to her pen and paper.

By the time Lady Brentford summoned the tea tray, the girls had completed six copies of the script. It was a blessedly short play, one of the farces put on late in the evening, following the main offering. People liked a comedy, to laugh and wink at a witty rejoinder.

They rose from the library table to join the others in the drawing room.

“Here we are with the copies for you. I shall let you assign them. Lord Brentford.”

“I think you might well call me Adrian, being so close to the family and all,” he grumbled, but low enough so the others couldn’t tell what he said.

“I’ll not take all the credit. I copied—as did Lydia and Belinda. Now you must do your share.” She smiled at him, knowing he had something else in mind. She placed the copies into his hands, then slid away to pour tea for Lady Brentford and the others who preferred tea to wine.

“When will you read the play?” Lady Brentford inquired. “I declare, I do not know when I have been so vastly diverted. We must invite Lord and Lady Swithin and the Percys to hear it.”