In the Heat of the Bite (22 page)

That situation was highly probable. All the witches were well aware that Cait was tormented by the futures of strangers when she was surrounded by a number of people like she would be at the soiree. Eynsford was the only one who could quiet her world, but he couldn’t keep his hands on her every moment.

“I’ll be sure ta tell ye if I feel the sudden urge ta…” she almost said,
Fill the punch bowl with hail
, but she realized just in time that Lord Radbourne was at her side. “Flee,” she said instead.

Cait giggled. “Please do.”

Radbourne led Rhiannon inside and suffered through introductions with her. He was charming and social, but he wasn’t Matthew. “If ye would like ta go ta the card room, Archer, ye need no’ worry about abandonin’ me. I see my sister right over there,” she told him.

“If you’re certain,” Radbourne remarked as his eyes found a small parlor off the edge of the ballroom.

“No faro,” Eynsford warned as his brother started in the opposite direction.

Radbourne made no indication that he’d heard his brother’s words. However, Rhiannon didn’t have time to think upon any of that. She’d caught Ginny’s attention, and her sister was waving madly, motioning for Rhi to come her way. But before she could even take one step in the girl’s direction, Aunt Greer took her sister in hand and tugged her to her side. Ginny winced at the woman’s grip.

Before she could even think, Rhiannon raised her finger to send a spark toward the woman. But just before she could fling it, Eynsford’s hand closed around her finger. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned.

“Unhand me,” Rhiannon whispered.

“I will, as soon as you promise not to shock the stockings off that woman. Save it for a later date.” He made it look as though he was simply taking her hand to lead her about the room.

Rhiannon nodded. “I’ll hold it in.”

“Don’t hold it in, lass. You’ll explode. Just make a conscious choice when it’s a good time to use it.” He raised an eyebrow at her.

She nodded again. He released her hand and let her move toward Ginny.

“Call if you need anything, Rhiannon,” he warned.

That was about as probable as the Duchess of Hythe flipping her skirts up for her butler. It might be nice in theory, but it most likely would never happen.

The young woman playing the pianoforte had the worst musical abilities of any young lady in all of Britain, Rhiannon thought. Mating cats carried a more melodic tune, and Rhi winced as the girl hit another sour note. Her aunt had always tried to get her to learn the finer arts like embroidery, the piano, and other social graces, but Rhiannon had failed miserably. Evidently, her lack of upbringing carried over. Because she was not above eavesdropping, she suddenly found as she walked up behind a potted palm that rested directly behind her aunt and her brood of marriage-minded mamas.

“Her father is fairly plump in the pockets,” Aunt Greer said to the group. “Not that you can tell it by the other daughter, Rhiannon, of course. That gel never was one for the finer things in life. She’s not made to marry. I can’t particularly see it. Ginessa, on the other hand, is a dear girl with a lot of potential. Why, I have only just begun to work with her and look how far she has come. She’s nothing at all like her sister.”

Rhiannon swallowed hard. How dare her aunt discuss such private matters?

Her aunt continued as the other women listened on. “Ginessa will marry to better herself. I’ve no doubt of it. She’ll never be fooled by a handsome face. A woman can love a rich man as easily as she can love a poor one, and she can have a much better time doing it.” She drew in a deep breath and continued. “Heaven forbid, but if my Harry should pass, I’d marry for money the next time.”

Rhiannon snorted. She thought Aunt Greer had married for money the
last
time. It was too bad for her that her husband kept such a tight rein on the purse strings. Her aunt’s only hope at happiness was getting a piece of Ginny’s dowry to see her through her husband’s tightfistedness. Rhiannon was well aware of that fact.

Some noncommittal comments came from the small circle of friends.

“No man has ever been lured to the altar by competent needlework.”

Rhiannon looked through the palm fronds to her sister, who sat expressionless beside her aunt, obviously miserable.

Aunt Greer leaned over to whisper in Ginny’s ear. Rhiannon caught the words and brought them to where she could hear them as well. “Do you think you could draw Mr. Finchley out onto the balcony?”

“Why on earth would I want ta do that?” Ginny returned.

“If you can get yourself compromised, this would be so much easier,” her aunt hissed. “He’s an honorable man. Just put yourself in his path and plead heat exhaustion. He doesn’t have a title, but he has more blunt than half of Yorkshire. You could do worse.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and then yelped as Aunt Greer pinched her on the back of the arm. Rhiannon would shake the earth if that woman hurt her sister. Her aunt wouldn’t even have warnings of the winds before they knocked her coiffure out of place.

The Duchess of Hythe ambled into their circle and dropped heavily into a chair. “You haven’t seen the Earl of Blodswell about, have you?” she asked absently.

“He is supposed to be escorting that niece of mine,” Aunt Greer said. “But I just saw her on the arm of Viscount Radbourne as she arrived.” She lowered her voice to a conciliatory whisper. “I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before the earl dropped her.”

The duchess’ eyes narrowed at Aunt Greer, but she didn’t speak. Yet another sour-faced woman did. She scrunched up her nose and said dramatically, “In all honesty, I am still a bit in shock over the Pickerings’ ball.”

“As am I,” Aunt Greer sighed. “I have tried so hard through the years to be a guiding force in that child’s life.” She brushed at a fake tear. “But there’s only so much one can do.”

“The Earl of Blodswell.” The sour-faced woman sighed as she said Matthew’s name. “I would love to make a match like that for my daughter. So handsome and so noble.”

If she only knew how noble.

“Indeed,” her aunt snipped out. “It’s quite unfortunate he was so taken with Rhiannon.”

“Unfortunate?” the duchess chimed in. “In what way is it unfortunate?” Oh dear, the older woman’s eyes glittered with mirth.

“Of course, by now, the girl has done something to turn his attentions from her. It was only a matter of time.” Her aunt clucked her tongue. Rhiannon had heard that cluck her whole life. It was a harbinger of remorse, when that tongue clucked.

“I heard he called on Miss Sinclair and took her on a ride though Hyde Park. Did you know?” the sour-faced woman asked.

Aunt Greer nodded tightly. She looked none too pleased about the fact.

“I don’t believe there is a more fortunate girl in all of Mayfair. However did she capture his attention?”

With lightning bolts and thunder, actually. Rhiannon’s heart grew heavier as she listened.

Aunt Greer avoided the woman’s question completely. “Mr. Finchley seemed quite taken with my dear Ginessa.”

An old, slender woman scoffed. “Mr. Finchley is inconsequential.”

Inconsequential? They spoke of men as though they were pieces on a chessboard.

“He’s abominable,” added another matron with a shudder. “The stories I’ve heard.”

“Quite,” agreed the slender woman. “And they are not fit for repeating, Minerva.”

The sour-faced woman leaned closer to Aunt Greer. “Did you see Lord Blodswell in the park?”

Ginny sat forward in her seat. “We did, Lady Higgenbottom. He has a very nice curricle.”

“Your sister was his guest.” The sour-faced Lady Higgenbottom turned her full attention on Ginny, like a hawk about to snatch a baby bunny from its burrow. “Has he called upon
you
at all, Miss Ginessa?”

“Why on earth would he do that when he has the oldest daughter’s attention?” the Duchess of Hythe chimed in. “Miss Ginessa will have her season, I’m certain. But the oldest girl, that one is a diamond of the first water. She’ll make a brilliant match this year. I’d wager on it.”

Tears pricked at the backs of Rhiannon’s eyelids. No one ever took up for her. Aside from her coven sisters, that is.

Aunt Greer’s face reddened as the duchess continued.

“I do like that girl. She has quite the spine. Blodswell is in possession of one of the finest estates in Derbyshire. His fortune is unparalleled. Rhiannon Sinclair will fit quite nicely into his life.”

“Well, before you know it, he’ll have turned his attention from Rhiannon,” Aunt Greer said waspishly. “You can mark my words.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” the duchess intoned, looking down her nose at Aunt Greer without even getting up. “He has never attended a single event. Not until the Pickerings’ ball. He does not typically take ladies for rides in the park. And he certainly does
not
accept invitations to soirees such as mine. Yet your oldest niece seems to have enticed him to do all of that. You should be proud of that girl. Very proud.”

Aunt Greer sputtered. She didn’t even like Rhiannon. Certainly she wouldn’t feel any pride over Matthew showing an interest in her older niece. In fact, Rhiannon was quite certain she detested the very idea.

“You do know it’s ill mannered to stand behind the potted palms and listen to other people’s conversations, don’t you?” a voice asked from beside her. Rhiannon jumped. Radbourne simply crossed his arms and looked down at her.

“I thought you were off to the card room,” Rhiannon whispered to him.

“It appears as though there’s much more fun to be had in the foliage.” Radbourne shrugged. “I think I’ll stay here with you. I like listening to simple women get their just deserts from old stalwarts like the Duchess of Hythe. It makes my heart sing.”

Rhiannon couldn’t keep the corners of her lips from twitching up in a grin. Radbourne’s droll sense of humor was a bit contagious. “If the duchess would just shove Aunt Greer in a cupboard and keep her there the rest of the night, this soiree could be salvageable,” Rhiannon said, trying not to giggle.

“There are two young Lycan gentlemen who have been known to accomplish such feats,” Radbourne teased, nodding toward his brothers, who stood talking with other men across the room. “And I hear they work cheaply.”

“Did they sneak in?” Cait would be appalled since none of the Hadley men had actually been invited.

“They’ve crashed parties with security much tighter than Hythe’s.”

“And they work cheaply, ye say? I wonder how much they would charge ta stash my aunt away.” She smiled. She couldn’t help it. The very idea was ludicrous.

“They might do it for the beauty of that smile. They have been motivated by less.” He held his hand out to her. “Come along. Let’s get you out of the foliage. This is not where you belong, Rhiannon.” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Ye have no idea where I belong.” If he knew what she was, he might not even want to speak to her, just like Aunt Greer. Just like her father.

“I understand more than you think,” he said, as he put her hand in the crook of his elbow and tugged hard enough to get her moving. “Let me get you some punch, sweetheart.”

Rhiannon stared up Radbourne. “What do ye ken about Mr. Finchley? Is there somethin’ dreadful about him?”

“Harold Finchley?” the viscount frowned. “He hasn’t approached you, has he?”

“No, but my sister…” she started to explain.

Radbourne shook his head. “Tell her to stay far away from the man.”

“What is it about him?”

“You’re not going to stop asking until I tell you, are you?”

Rhiannon shook her head. “I need ta ken.”

“Very well,” Radbourne sighed. “From time to time, he has kept many a mistress.” He held up his hand in defense. “Not that I judge the man for that. I’ve been known to dally myself. But Finchley has a reputation for not treating the women well.”

“Doesna treat them well? Ye mean he doesna buy them baubles or expensive clothes?” After all, that’s what mistresses wanted, wasn’t it? Certainly, whatever Mr. Finchley did couldn’t be worse than that. Her aunt couldn’t possibly want to shackle Ginny with someone worse than that, could she?

“I mean,” the viscount lowered his voice to a near whisper, “he’s been known to hurt them, to misuse them. I’d rather not say any more.”

Rhiannon agreed with a nod of her head. “I understand.” And she did. Queasiness settled in her stomach. “I doona think I want any punch, Archer.”

He agreed with an incline of his head. “Well, if I return you to Dash frowning, he’ll have my head. Why don’t you dance with me, Rhiannon?”

Rhi allowed him to tug her toward the middle of the room where other couples were just lining up across from each other for the next set.

“This should make you smile again. I dare you to frown during a quadrille.” Radbourne winked at her.

Rhiannon giggled. “Do ye think ta tease me out of my mood?”

He waggled his brow dramatically. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll have to come up with something else.”

She was of the opinion that he meant every word he said, which was a little intimidating. As they joined the other couples on the dance floor, Rhi realized that two of the men in their set were Wes and Gray Hadley. She shook her head.

“Ye ken, Cait is no’ goin’ ta be happy that they crashed the soiree. She’s tryin’ terribly hard ta fit in here in London.”

Radbourne chuckled. “Cait worries for no reason. She’s married to a powerful man, and though Dash is less daunting than the late marquess, the name Eynsford still has the power to strike fear in most hearts. Half the people in this room are probably terrified of her. The other half are terrified of the duchess.”

“Oh, and which one are
ye
terrified of?”

Radbourne glanced around the room as though making sure no one could overhear him. “Both.”

The idea was absurd, and Rhi couldn’t help but laugh. “I doona believe that for a moment.”

“No?” He smiled slowly at her. “Her Grace has no need for weapons as she possesses the sharpest tongue in all of London.”

“And Cait?”

“Knows my mother.” He shuddered dramatically.

Just then, a violin struck the opening chord of the dance, and Radbourne bowed before Rhiannon. Then there was no more time for talking. The jaunty song did make it difficult to frown. In turn, as they traded partners, she danced with each of the Hadley men and a shy Welsh earl who couldn’t quite meet her eyes.