Once an Innocent (12 page)

Clara shook her head. “You mistake me, Naomi. I lay no blame at your feet. Indeed, of the guests assembled here, I believe you may be the only one Jordan trusts.”

Naomi’s mind reeled. What was she to Lord Freese but the younger sister of a friend? “How can that be? My acquaintance with Lord Freese is scarcely more than … well, just that, an acquaintance.”

“Because, Naomi, of all the names on the guest list Jordan sent me, only yours and your aunt’s were known to me through Jordan’s communications over the years. My stepson has never, to my knowledge, fraternized with anyone else at this table.” Clara’s eyes moved down the row of diners. “I suppose there must be truth to his association with Mr. Ditman, but this is the first I’ve heard of the man.”

Feeling conspicuous at engaging in such a lengthy private conversation at the table, Naomi cut to the point. “Why do you tell me this, Clara?”

The older lady’s eyes were full of concern and pleading. “Please help him. Whatever troubles Jordan is beyond me, and perhaps beyond you, as well. I do not like this party, and I do not trust the look of some of these men. Jordan is uneasy in a way I’ve never seen him. But I see how he looks at you.” Her wry smile returned. “I probably shouldn’t tell you, but he instructed me as to the particular rooms you and Lady Janine should have. He took no such pains for any of the others. Jordan has a connection to you he doesn’t share with anyone else here, Naomi. I hope I do not misjudge your kind feelings toward him.”

Naomi flushed. “No, of course not. I esteem Lord Freese greatly. I don’t know what I can do for him, though.”

“Just be his friend,” the countess said. “I think that may be enough. Talk to him, put his mind at ease. Please, say you will.”

Biting a lip, Naomi nodded. “I shall try.” Clara seemed satisfied, so Naomi gave her attention to her other neighbor.

Only later, when the sweet course arrived, did Naomi realize the promise Clara had exacted from her ran in direct contradiction to the one she’d given Marshall. Lady Whithorn wanted her close to Lord Freese, whereas her brother wanted her to stay as far away from the man as possible.

Torn as to which promise she should honor — for surely she could only uphold one of them — she cast an anguished look up the table. Lord Freese’s eyes were already on her, searching. Under his gaze, she felt as though little flames danced across her skin.

Naomi would have to break her word to someone. Never had she been disloyal to her family, even when she was accused of it for her friendship with Isabelle. In the end, it was seen she had been loyal to
all
of her family, including her then-disgraced sister-in-law. Her greater duty must lie with her family. But Clara was her hostess. While she remained in this house, did she not owe her some degree of loyalty, as well? She struggled with the unsavory choice, wishing she could somehow avoid this predicament without hurting anyone.

As Lord Freese continued to hold her gaze, Naomi realized that she, at least, would not escape unscathed.

• • •

After dinner, Clara led the ladies to the parlor while the gentlemen remained behind to enjoy their port. Aunt Janine claimed her for a turn about the room.

“What’s in your head, girl?” Aunt Janine asked shrewdly. “You’ve scarcely said a word in twenty minutes.”

Naomi gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I am rather distracted tonight. We’ve had a long day of traveling, and so many new faces — ”

“Stuff and nonsense,” Aunt Janine grumbled. “You’re the only person I’ve ever known who is not fatigued by travel, and there’s nothing you like better than meeting new people. You flourish in society, while I quite wither in it.”

Naomi wondered whether she should confide Clara’s concerns to her aunt. After all, Aunt Janine had already expressed her belief that there was more to their presence at Lintern Abbey than met the eye. Before she could say anything, however, Clara invited Janine to join her on the settee.

She was replaced at Naomi’s side by a young woman of her own age with striking red hair and green eyes. “Lady Naomi, I wonder if you remember me.” Her voice carried the smooth, even tones of a privileged upbringing, like Naomi’s.

Taking in the woman’s appearance, a twinge of familiarity tickled the back of Naomi’s mind. “Rochelle, isn’t it?” Glancing at her companion’s hand, she saw a band on the fourth finger. “Forgive me, but I don’t recall your married name.”

“I’m Lady Gray now.” The elegant woman held her head proudly and took long, even steps to best display her purple silk dress, the very crack of fashion. “We were débutantes together last year, you and I.”

Suddenly, Naomi mentally saw the woman at her side in a white dress at Almack’s. “Oh, yes! I remember now. But I didn’t see you in Town this spring.”

Lady Gray shook her head. “No, I was already betrothed, of course.” She stopped to pluck a chrysanthemum from an arrangement on a marble pillar. “I came up to arrange my trousseau and attend a few events, then returned home to prepare for the wedding.”

“Congratulations on your marriage,” Naomi said. “Lord Gray is a fine gentleman.”

Smiling, Lady Gray suddenly looked more girlish. “He arranged the excursion to the cave yesterday. It was extremely romantic, I must say. Cold and dark, with only torches to light the way. You should have joined us.”

Naomi recalled how Lord Freese had invited her to do just that. Learning that it was a romantic excursion only confused her further. There had been no hint of romance in Lord Freese’s description of the place — only blind fish. “We had just arrived at the inn,” Naomi offered by way of explanation.

“Ah.” Lady Gray turned Naomi to face the vase of flowers and touched them here and there, as though studying the arrangement. Leaning close to Naomi, she whispered, “Tell me, Lady Naomi, does anything about this gathering strike you as odd?”

A thrill coursed down Naomi’s spine. The number of ladies who found something amiss about the party was growing. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “Yes,” she answered, “it does.”

Lady Gray nodded sagely. “I knew you would have noticed,” she said in a quiet voice. “It makes perfect sense for you and your aunt to have been invited. As well as Lord Gray and myself. Lord Herrick and Lady Griffiths.” She nodded toward the widowed lady, who sat with Miss Price and Miss Elton. “The Perry siblings, as well,” Lady Gray added, “though he is a younger son and she’s decidedly on the shelf.” Her lips pursed before she lowered her voice even more. “But these other people … Who
are
they? Where did they come from? Truly, I would not have consented to attend had Lord Gray told me there would be people here who are …
in trade.”
She shuddered as the words passed her lips.

Naomi groaned inwardly and sighed. Her own reasons for finding the party odd did not incorporate snobbery such as Lady Gray’s. She cast the woman an incredulous look. “Please excuse me,” she said at last. “The day’s exertion is beginning to tell on me.”

“We shall have to stick together,” Lady Gray said with a nod.

Snapping open her fan, Naomi took advantage of the covering to blow her cheeks out. “Not likely,” she muttered.

She sat on a vacant loveseat just as the gentlemen came in. Lord Gray went immediately to his wife and kissed her hand in a great display of gallantry. Mr. Ditman followed, deep in conversation with Mr. Richard.

When Lord Freese entered the parlor, Naomi felt as though half the oxygen vanished from the air. His dark curls shone elegantly, even as they fell in a haphazard fashion. He was every inch the perfect gentleman in his evening wear. The cut of his black coat was even closer than the one he’d worn earlier in the day, and his breeches clung to his muscled legs as though they’d grown in place. That veneer of civility, however, did little to conceal his overwhelming maleness. Primal virility rolled off of him in great waves, threatening to pull her under. Naomi wondered that all the women in the room did not faint on the spot. She, for one, was glad she’d already taken a seat.

His head was bent close to his uncle, Sir Randell, when he entered, the two engaged in intense conversation. Jordan frowned at something his older relative said, shook his head, and broke away from their exchange. At once, the frown vanished, replaced by a politely detached expression. She expected him to make his way around the room, speaking to each of his guests in turn. Instead, his eyes clapped onto her almost instantly. Lord Freese crossed the room as though no one else was in it. “May I join you?” he asked.

Naomi nodded, feeling lightheaded and breathless. The cushion listed his way when he sank onto the loveseat; she had to lean in the other direction to stop herself from tumbling against him. But, oh, how tempting was the desire to let herself tumble.

She studied him in her peripheral vision. He sat seemingly at ease, with one elbow casually propped onto the arm of the small sofa and his lips turned up in a light smile. Yet, every line held tension, every muscle was taut as though he was ready to spring into action in an instant. This inner turmoil of his was so near the surface, it seemed if she so much as reached out and touched him, his outer façade would shatter into pieces.

Clara caught her eyes and glanced meaningfully at Lord Freese.
She sees it, too
. And she was reminding Naomi of her promise.

Be his friend.

She plucked at a crease in her satin skirt, struggling to remember what she would say to a friend. Her capacity for language seemed to have abandoned her to a mute fate. At last, she summoned the wherewithal to speak. “Supper was excellent, my lord. Has your cook been in service here very long?”

Lord Freese shrugged. “I couldn’t say. You’d have to ask the housekeeper.”

“I see.” Naomi tapped her closed fan absentmindedly against her thigh while she fumbled for something else to say. When she looked back at the man beside her, his eyes were trained on where her fan hit her leg. She stopped the activity at once. His eyes raked slowly over her torso on their way to her face. Banked heat smoldered behind the cold blue of his irises.

Naomi’s stomach trembled. The bodice of her gown suddenly felt too tight. She remembered the feel of his hands on her arms in the library the night of the charity auction, how he’d teased her about kissing lessons. Her gaze dropped to his lips.

She inhaled sharply and averted her eyes. She was turning into a wanton, just as her mother had warned her happened to unmarried females. Rallying her virtue, she forced herself to summon the most unromantic subject she could think of. “Are you looking forward to the hunt, Lord Freese?” Bloodsport. There. The thought of killing animals by way of amusement made her stomach turn and went a long way toward squelching her wayward senses.

He leaned closer. “The hunt has already begun,” he murmured.

Naomi’s eyes widened. “My lord — ”

“Don’t do that,” he said, frowning slightly and shaking his head. “How long have we known one another?”

She glanced at the other guests, who were all engaged in their own conversations and not paying attention to hers. Turning back to face him felt like plunging underwater. She couldn’t stay this close to him for long; she would drown. “Forever,” she answered.

A dark brow angled over an eye. “Ought you not call someone whom you have known forever by his name?”

“But you’re my brother’s friend, my lord. Though I’ve known you for years, I really don’t know you at all.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I noticed that deficiency, too, especially when I realized we share common attitudes on certain subjects.”

She puzzled over this for a moment. “What subjects would those be, my — ”

“Jordan,” he said firmly.

“Jordan.” She smiled and ducked her head when his name crossed her lips.

“That’s better.” He sighed, and for a brief instant, he looked as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Nerves buffeted her middle.
Be his friend.
“Jordan,” she said quietly, “is there anything … ? You can talk to me.” She blushed furiously and looked down at her hands clamped around her fan. What a fool she was making of herself!

“Would you play for me, Naomi?”

There was a haunted look about his eyes, his smile sad. His expression aroused her sympathy and the desire to indulge him. But a public performance when she wasn’t prepared? She warily eyed the pianoforte in the corner. “This was not to be a musical evening. We’ve all just arrived. Everyone is fatigued — ”

“Please,” he whispered. He looked tired, Naomi thought. His cheeks were a little pale; the scar stood out more boldly tonight than it usually did.

She nodded hesitantly.

He rose and offered his hand to her. “Lady Naomi will favor us with a selection at the pianoforte,” he announced to the group.

In the hush that immediately followed, she crossed to the instrument. Clara hurried to her side. “I haven’t even looked through the music yet. I don’t know what’s here … .”

“No matter.” Naomi smiled nervously. “I have several pieces committed to memory.”

She sat down at the instrument and glanced at the assembly. Aunt Janine’s brows furrowed behind the frames of her spectacles. Jordan’s Uncle Randell hovered slightly behind and to the side of where Auntie was seated. He scowled at the back of her head. Most of the other gentlemen wore looks of vague interest, but Mr. Ditman took no pains to conceal his boredom. Miss Price clapped encouragingly, then nudged Miss Elton with an elbow; that frail lady contributed languid applause. Lady Gray leaned against her husband and whispered into his ear.

Well. She wasn’t here to play for them, was she?

From her seat upon the tufted bench, she had a clear view of Jordan, isolated in the midst of the group. The strain of whatever troubled him wrapped about him like a cloak. His eyes fixed on her, drinking in every detail.

Drawing a deep breath, Naomi blocked out every other person in the parlor. In her mind’s eye, she was alone with Jordan, playing just for him.

Her fingers touched the keys and danced their way through a selection from Mozart, a lively piece she hoped would raise his spirits. At the end, she acknowledged the others’ applause with a gracious nod but looked to Jordan to measure the effect of her efforts. His shoulders had relaxed a bit. Some of the tension had eased around his eyes. He gestured with a hand.