Surrender the Stars (30 page)

She did as Ryan bade, trying not to pout. "But what shall we tell everyone?"

"I'll be ill. Something I ate." Standing, he took her hand and assisted her up. "You must promise me, Lindsay, not to tell anyone what you learned today. Not even your parents. My illustrious past at Oxford will be a secret between us."

The irony in his voice was lost on her as she sighed, caught up in the romance of sharing such a marvelous secret with Ryan. "I promise!" she vowed. They were halfway to the door before another thought struck her. "Ryan, Hester knows all of this, doesn't she?"

He put some coins on the bar as they passed, then allowed, "Yes, Lindsay, she knows."

"And she knows a lot of other things you won't tell me, doesn't she?" Her voice rose accusingly.

"Only because she was part of my past. I'd be happier if no one knew anything!" Ryan bent to pass under the low door, then guided her in silence back through the twists and turns of St. Helen's Passage. They were nearly out when he stopped abruptly and looked down into Lindsay's wounded gray eyes. "Let it go. Keep in mind that there is a great deal about my present life that Hester doesn't know. And, that's where I live—in this moment."

A smile rose from her heart as they continued on. Turning back onto New College Lane, Lindsay was so preoccupied that she didn't see Harry Brandreth and Lord Chadwick until her brother-in-law boomed, "Well met! Don't tell me that you two discovered the Spotted Cow?"

"A student directed us," Ryan drawled, lifting his quizzing glass. "Lindsay was feeling a trifle parched."

"I'm not certain it's the kind of place a well-bred young lady ought to frequent, Mr. Raveneau," Chadwick observed.

Lindsay intervened. "I only went once, so you mustn't scold, sir! Besides, I found it a delightful change from the formality of the day." Laughing, she took Ryan's arm. "Please don't think us rude, but we really must be on our way. Though he'd never admit it, my brother has suddenly taken ill, and I must see that he returns to his rooms and goes to bed. You'll excuse us?"

Watching Lindsay and Ryan disappear around the corner of Catte Street, Harry shook his head and looked down at the shorter Earl of Chadwick. "I say, have you ever seen a cozier pair of siblings in your life?"

Francis Moore dabbed perspiration from his forehead with a snowy handkerchief and replied thoughtfully, "Can't say that I have, old man. Can't say that I have..."

"Admirable devotion, what?"

The earl slowly arched one eyebrow. "Quite."

* * *

"Lindsay, darling, could you spare me a moment?"

"Certainly, Mama. What is it?" Lindsay's voice was absent as she surveyed her reflection. Cassie had just fastened a choker of diamonds and pearls around her neck and inserted matching combs into her upswept strawberry-blond curls. She hadn't been certain what the effect would be, for her satin gown was all white and very simple. "What do you think, Mama? Should I wear sapphires instead?"

Cassie spoke up. "I told her, ma'am, that her hair and eyes are color enough. Not that she should wear just white
all
the time, but for a change—"

"You're right, Cassie, Lindsay looks sophisticated and innocent all at once. The other women will seem vulgar by comparison." Devon, garbed in a lovely evening dress of filmy white net over pale blue silk, sat down on the edge of the bed. "Would you mind leaving us alone, Cassie?"

"Of course not, ma'am!" Startled, she hurried from the room.

"What's this all about, Mama?"

"I was hoping you would tell me." Devon's tone was almost gentle. "What really happened today?"

"Ryan and I already explained. I was foolish enough to go punting with Dudley, and Ryan discovered us and brought me back. But then I begged him to sightsee with me and he grudgingly agreed. That's when we sent the note up to you and Papa so you wouldn't worry. We stopped for a bit of refreshment and Ryan felt ill suddenly, so we came back." Lindsay took a chair opposite her mother, thankful that there were no real lies involved. "I know I exercised bad judgment and I apologize, but certainly you don't believe I did anything seriously wrong?"

"My instincts tell me that there is a great deal more to this than either of you have said. Since this adventure commenced, I have tried not to interfere in your relationship, even when you were so antagonistic toward him. You are twenty years old, after all. A woman. But, Lindsay, it is very hard for me to keep silent when I suspect that something is being hidden from me."

"I don't know what you mean!"

Devon shook her head. "Neither do I, exactly... I suppose that my own worry is that a relationship is developing between you and Ryan that could complicate all our lives, especially given the mission the president has given us and the fact that we all live under the same roof. I am trusting you not to take advantage of the latter circumstance!"

Traitorous color warmed Lindsay's cheeks. "If you are suggesting that I am carrying on some sort of—of
love affair
with Ryan Coleraine—that we sneak into each other's beds after you and Papa are sleeping—"

"Don't overdramatize." Devon reached for her daughter's hand and found that it was ice-cold. "I simply want to remind you that
neither
of your parents is blind. I have tried to reassure your father and to overlook certain incidents—like that night at Carlton House—for my own peace of mind, and because, as I said, you are a grown woman. I have longed for you to find love, darling, but I have a duty to beg you to use your head as well as your heart." She laughed shakily. "When the two of you disappear like that, I begin worrying. If your father were ever to discover you and Ryan in—a compromising situation, I shudder to imagine the consequences."

Lindsay rose to pace across her tiny room above the Golden Cross's courtyard. Horse hooves and carriage wheels clattered below. "I hope that Papa's imagination hasn't carried him off, too!"

"He has had his share of suspicions, which I have tried to allay."

"I think that you are both dreaming up these things because Ryan and I have been thrown together in the same house. Why, I should think that you would be pleased that we've struck a truce of sorts until this charade is ended and we can all go back to our normal lives." Pleased with these arguments, Lindsay added, "I must say, Mama, I find it a odd that neither you nor Papa is worrying about Lord Fanshawe! He is the one who persuaded me to steal away with him in a punt on the River Cherwell! I can assure you, he is a very ardent and romantic man! Why is it that you are not concerned about
that
relationship?"

Devon stood up and smoothed her gown. "Because," she said simply, "there is no light in your eyes when you look at Lord Fanshawe."

A moment later, standing alone, Lindsay realized that what her mother had left unsaid was far more meaningful than the words she had spoken aloud.

* * *

Propped against soft white pillows, Ryan slid his book under the covers when a knock sounded at the door. Harvey Jenkins, who had been brushing his master's coat, went to answer it.

"Good evening, Captain and Mrs. Raveneau. I trust you both are enjoying this exemplary June day?" Harvey waved them in with a flourish.

"We'd be enjoying it more if your employer were well," Andre said as he and Devon entered, looking splendidly out of place in their formal attire. "How are you feeling, Ryan?"

"Better, sir, I'm happy to report. Thinking back, I've decided it was the sausage cake I tried at luncheon in Henley. It had rather an odd taste." Valiantly, he struggled to sit up. "You two are looking magnificent. I certainly wish I were going with you tonight!"

Devon crossed to the bed and felt his forehead. "I don't remember any sausage cakes."

"How fortunate. I doubtless got the only one. Probably left over from last month."

"Ryan, dear, the sight of your chest is very... inspiring, but shouldn't you put something on if you're ill?"

"I don't have anything." He attempted a pale imitation of his usual rakish smile. "Clothing distracts me in bed."

Her delicate brows went up. "I don't doubt it." She lifted a nearly empty glass of brandy from the bedside table. "Brandy? On an upset stomach?"

"Harvey forced it on me, didn't you, Harvey? He swears it's a miracle cure." Harvey nodded agreeably from his place by the window.

Sighing, Devon narrowed her eyes at Ryan. "I suppose it's none of my affair, is it?"

"Never say so, Mother dear. However, I wouldn't have dreamed of disturbing your preparations for this momentous evening. So we mere men have just tried to muddle through in the sickroom. Haven't we, Harvey?"

"Unequivocally, sir." The manservant fussed with a spot of dust on the fawn coat sleeve.

"Is there anything you need?" Raveneau inquired, wondering why his wife was behaving so peculiarly.

"Nothing that Harvey can't see to," Ryan assured him bravely.

At that moment, first Mouette and then Lindsay appeared in the doorway. "Everyone's waiting downstairs," Mouette announced. "We should be going." Peeking into the room, she added, "Oh, my! Perhaps I ought to remain behind to nurse Ryan back to health! I don't suppose Harry would understand, though. Ryan, since you obviously won't be riding tomorrow, you must share our carriage and we'll regale you with stories about tonight!"

"A tantalizing prospect," Ryan replied with good-natured irony. "Think of me, languishing here in this spartan room, while you frolic at the Radcliffe Camera."

"We shall! Mama, Papa, come on!"

Devon turned in the doorway to look at Lindsay. "Are you coming?"

"I just brought Ryan a book I thought he might enjoy. I'll be down in an instant, I promise!"

"I feel too weak to read," the patient spoke up, "but, on the other hand, I might revive in an hour or two...."

"Be quick, Lindsay," Devon warned as Andre gently pulled her into the hall.

Harvey Jenkins waited until he heard the family's footsteps on the stairs, then silently took his leave.

"Close the door," Ryan said, sitting up.

Lindsay blushed. "I can't stay—you heard them—"

"This will only take a moment. Come here."

The sight of his bare, hard-muscled chest with its light covering of black hair, his irresistible half smile, and his penetrating blue eyes swept away her reason. "Ryan, I—"

He caught her hand and drew her down to sit beside him on the bed. "I just wanted to tell you that you look stunning. Ravishing. The sight of you is enough to make me wish I were going along, if only to keep that supercilious Fanshawe away from you."

"You smell of brandy." Lindsay smiled in spite of herself and reached out to touch his ruffled black hair.

"Do you think I'd be doing this if I were sober?" Leaning forward, he grazed her mouth with his. Strong, dark hands slowly encircled her satin-clad waist, then rounded Lindsay's back as he drew her against him and kissed her in earnest.

Warm arousal surged through her body, until she remembered all that her mother had said and realized that her family was waiting while she sat here in white satin, diamonds, and pearls kissing a naked man. Somehow, Lindsay managed to press her palms against his chest. When their lips parted, the sensation was almost painful.

"Ryan, I have to go!" Standing up, she felt dizzy. "I brought you a book." She took a gulp of air. "Boswell's
Life of Johnson."

An odd smile curved his mouth as he accepted the volume from her hand and drew his own book out from under the bedclothes. "Why am I not surprised?"

A chill ran down Lindsay's spine when she saw that they'd chosen the same title. "Oh, Ryan—"

"You'd best be off, sister dear. Enjoy yourself." When she had reached the corridor, he called genially, "Say something rude to Dudley for me!"

Chapter 22

Oxfordshire, England

June 15, 1814

"Did we tell you that the military had to be called to the Radcliffe Camera to quiet the students during the banquet?" Mouette asked Ryan.

"I think so, yes." He shifted uneasily, longing to stretch out his long legs or, better yet, to trade his place in this handsomely appointed carriage for one astride his new black stallion. Every time Ryan thought of Harvey riding Simon in his stead, he cringed.

Next to him, Devon wondered, "Are you feeling unwell again, my dear? It was very foolish for you to leave the inn this morning. I do hope that you didn't partake of any sausage cakes during your outing!"

He regarded her for a moment through narrowed eyes. Why had Devon been so suspicious of his "illness" from the first? These Raveneau women were altogether too sharp-witted. He never had a moment's peace in their presence, a fact that he was all the more aware of after two hours trapped in this carriage with Devon, Mouette, and Lindsay.

"I am not ill," Ryan said evenly, "merely... restless."

"Missing Simon, no doubt," Lindsay suggested, eyes atwinkle.

"Can you guess the reason for my sister's high spirits?" Mouette inquired. She was still determined to enliven their journey.