The Trouble With Being Wicked (16 page)

Miss Lancester brightened despite her sister’s accusing tone. “Oh, Delilah darling, I had no idea. I thought
womanhood
made you intolerable.”

Delilah’s answering laugh caught in her throat. “It has, just not for the reason you thought.”

They seemed to have forgotten Celeste’s presence completely. Yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away, nor did she wish to interrupt.

When Miss Lancester spoke again, it was in a quiet, calm tone. “You know why I missed my Season, darling, and it is something we cannot regret anymore. Mother and Fa—”

“Oh, leave off,” Delilah said sharply. “You missed
one Season
because of Mother. Don’t speak to me like I’m too dim-witted to know why you never asked Trestin to try again.”

Delilah fumed. Miss Lancester appeared a little green. Then, in unspoken unison, they turned toward Celeste and linked arms again.

“Miss Smythe,” the older sister said, “I vow you have some rather interesting opinions. After all, you are also unwed.”

“Unless you are above gossip?” Delilah twirled her parasol innocently. A little too innocently. Celeste had a feeling she’d been neatly cornered.

“It’s not gossiping when it’s about oneself,” her sister corrected. “Miss Smythe, we merely wish to ask a few questions. To clarify things.”

Here it was, the true reason they’d come calling. “What kind of things?” Celeste asked.

Delilah leaned over. She twirled her parasol like a windmill behind her dark head. “Trestin is in high dudgeon and we believe it’s your fault. We’ve never seen him this way. Last night, he and Roman—Ow!” She glared at her sister. “Your elbow is sharp.”

Miss Lancester ignored her sister’s scolding. Her demure smile set Celeste’s pulse pounding. “We’ve merely a few things to
ask
.”

Was there a way out of this? Or would evading their questions only make them more curious? “Does your brother know you’re here?” Celeste asked.

The young ladies shared a speaking glance before bursting into laughter.

Miss Lancester recovered first. “Oh, dear Zeus, no! He should never permit that.”

It was Delilah’s turn to elbow her sister. “Lucy!”

“Well, she must know, mustn’t she? It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to help us without first explaining Trestin’s feelings.”

Celeste couldn’t squelch her curiosity at that.

Delilah bit her rosy lower lip. “I suppose.”

“Then it’s settled.” Miss Lancester turned to Celeste. “The thing is, Miss Smythe, that our brother is storming about the house and being cross about every little thing. That in itself isn’t cause for alarm; the difference is, this time he won’t provide an explanation for it.”

Delilah brightened. “Trestin
always
gives a reason. Can you imagine? You must be quite awful.” Her eyes glowed. “We simply couldn’t wait another moment to find out why.”

Celeste felt the blood drain from her face. Roman must have told him after all.

“Miss Smythe, are you all right?” Miss Lancester sounded genuinely concerned. “We didn’t mean to give offense.”

Celeste forced a smile. “Surprised, is all.”

“I told you we should not ask her!” Miss Lancester hissed.

“Nonsense! This was
your
idea. Why are you always blaming me?”

“You’re the one who said we should—”

“Girls,” Celeste interrupted, feeling much, much older than they, “I’m quite all right. And I assure you, your brother is, too. He merely was given a fright last night. I’m afraid I’m a bit shocking, and he was disappointed to learn of my poor manners.”

Miss Lancester clutched Celeste’s arm. “Ooh! I knew it! He is acting
just
as if we were caught dipping in the stream. Are
you
given to midnight strolls? Walking barefoot? Reading lurid novels? Staring at handsome men when you think no one is looking? Because I think we might make very good friends, then.”

Oh, goodness. Had she perhaps sugar-coated it too well?

Then she had an uplifting thought. If the girls thought this was the extent of her sinning, perhaps Roman hadn’t broken her trust after all. Maybe Lord Trestin
didn’t
know what she’d been.

“Yes, I’ve done all that,” she admitted with a hitched laugh, suddenly feeling hopeful, “and much more. But you should leave. He’ll be very upset to know you’ve come here.”

“Bosh. It doesn’t require a large misstep to become inappropriate in Trestin’s eyes.” Miss Lancester smirked.

Celeste hesitated. It was already clear to her that Lord Trestin could be an overbearing brute. It was just as evident that he loved his sisters, and seemed only to want the best for them. It was no different than her resolve to see Elizabeth’s child born into a bright, happy future, and even Celeste could see that her mere presence in his house had emboldened his wards. “I hate to defend your brother, but in this instance he may be right. You can gain nothing by an association with me.”

“And there you’re wrong!” Miss Lancester cried. “What does Trestin know about women? He’s nine and twenty, rarely leaves his gardens and is certainly not a man about town. He gets his notions of propriety from books. Moldering books rotting in our ancient library. Books written by
men
.”

Celeste couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter. She was surprised, too, to realize he was so young. Goodness, now she felt positively
ancient
. At three and thirty, she was four years his senior.

It wasn’t really her age that made her feel older, though, was it? For eighteen years, she’d taken care of herself. That was practically a lifetime.

Miss Lancester grinned. “I see you know precisely what we mean. Trestin has never done anything wrong. He doesn’t curse. He doesn’t drink to excess. He doesn’t ride too fast or too hard. He doesn’t track home dirt. I doubt he’s even shagged a milkmaid.”

Delilah clapped a gloved hand to her mouth. “Lucy!”

“Oh, come now, as if you’ve never wondered. I think it would do us all good if he took a mistress, but he is too far above that. Much to my dismay, there isn’t a woman worthy enough of him.”

Celeste’s chest squeezed. Certainly, she wasn’t worthy of Lord Trestin.

Delilah lowered her hand from her mouth. “It’s true. He wants nothing less than a paragon for a wife.” She smiled wryly. “It does put us in a bind. All that meticulous, frustrated attention turned on us.”

“But not forever, or so we hope. He’s keen on finding a wife in London, and I think he may succeed.” Miss Lancester pulled a face. “I pity her, whoever she is. The man is far too exacting.”

He was to marry.
Celeste had to remind herself to take another breath, for this unexpected announcement had stolen hers.
Of course he was to marry.
He was young, in possession of a title and all his teeth. What else would he do?

“I was ever so excited when he announced his intention to take a wife,” Lucy continued, thrusting the dagger deeper into Celeste’s chest, “for there was never a greater lost cause. He rarely put any effort into it until a few months ago. He’s quite happy in the country and disdainful of machinations, assignations and anything that smacks of fun. London is nothing but a cesspool in his eyes. Nonetheless, it’s where he must go to find a suitable wife. The irony near causes his head to shatter.”

A starling swooped from the overgrown grass and dived beside them, almost to the ground. The young ladies drew a collective breath, momentarily distracted by the bird. Celeste felt rather like the starling, hurtling to earth at breakneck speed. What had she thought?
Of course
he meant to marry.

“Oh, what I would give to fly!” Lucy tipped her head back to better watch the starling’s progress as it curved upward at the last second and soared into the sky. “Or even just to be a bird. No cares, no men. No brothers.”

“I’ve always wanted a brother,” Celeste divulged when the starling dived again. “Surely there must be something good about him.”

The young ladies looked at each other before bursting into laughter again. “No, not really,” they said together.

“He was affected by our parents’ deaths,” Lucy explained. “He fears the three of us are inherently prone to scandal.” She shrugged as if this were absurd, instead of highly possible and quite likely true, given what Celeste had seen so far. “At any rate, while other girls enjoy being young and unattached,
we
are not allowed to do anything that might be interpreted as fast.”

Delilah indicated the moorlands dotted with family farmsteads and craggy outcroppings. “Worse yet, Devon isn’t exactly flush with suitors, especially not ones up to Trestin’s standards. We aren’t allowed to speak to ineligible men, let alone flirt with them.”

“Not that it’s stopped you.” Lucy smirked at her sister.

Delilah gasped in dramatic betrayal. “My horse threw a shoe!”

“If that’s what they’re calling it these days.”
 

“Oh! You!”

Lucy chuckled, not the least contrite. “Miss Smythe, as you can see, we need you. We are desperate for entertainment. We attempted to steal Trestin’s curricle only to find it’s not as easy to drive a team as it looks. We dived into the bay for a lark and immediately caught cold. Then there was the time we sneaked into Moll’s after dark—”

“Goodness, please don’t tell me how that went.” Moll’s was Brixcombe’s seamiest tavern, just beside the Hound and Hen. Celeste could imagine the scene they witnessed inside.

Delilah’s brown eyes danced. “We saw bubbies everywhere!”

Celeste was torn between laughter and horror. Poor Lord Trestin.

When the young ladies stopped snickering, Lucy composed herself and turned to Celeste. “In London, Trestin will chain us to him, for there’s vice to be found in every nook and cranny. By fall, Delilah will be a proper lady and I will be firmly on the shelf. We really have only three or four weeks left to enjoy ourselves. If you are just a little fast, I beg you to take pity on us. Teach us to drive a curricle or prank Roman or climb a tree—whatever it is you’ve done my brother finds so objectionable. Please? For the Sisterhood?”

Sisterhood.
Goose pimples prickled Celeste’s flesh.

“Yes, the Sisterhood!” Delilah chimed. “The Sisterhood of Untamed Females. We’re sorely in need of members.”

Celeste’s heart warmed.
They needed her.

It was difficult to resist. But goodness, these girls were primed for trouble. Did Lord Trestin know the extent of what was going on beneath his very roof? She could tattle on them, but she hadn’t the heart. They were fast becoming rather dear to her.

What if she accompanied them as they’d asked, but with the purest of intentions? Surely with her experience she could keep them from coming to any real harm, especially as they seemed unaware of the extent of her “experience.” That was the best part, really. They didn’t know about her past aside from what they innocently supposed, yet they desired her company. She was nothing more than a newcomer to the area, a way to pass the time and perhaps make a new friend. After Roman and Lord Trestin’s treatment of her, she quite liked that.

And if she didn’t tell them about her previous career as a lightskirt, they would never be tempted to follow her example. Lord Trestin’s concern for his sisters’ reputations seemed especially valid where Lucy was concerned. Her independent streak disquieted even Celeste.

It was only for a few weeks. She might never have another chance to join in innocent fun like this. Climb a tree? Why, she’d never even considered it.

By their own admission, these young ladies needed her. And with her heart feeling as though it had been shredded by Roman’s condemnation of her, she could readily admit she needed them.

Chapter Twelve

Swan, the head gardener at Worston, indicated the gaping cavity at Ash’s feet. “Are you digging a hole to China, my lord?” He pointed to a mound of black dirt piled high beside it. “I’m sure that apple blossom won’t appreciate being six feet under.”

Ash paused and leaned on his shovel, realizing Swan was right. “Thanks,” he muttered, and stomped on the shovel’s head to jam it into the ground. He stretched his arms behind his back, pulling his muscles taut, and swiped the back of his glove against his brow. His glove came away darkened with perspiration and dirt. The sun was out, a luxury this time of year, but it made short work of him. His coat was spread over a hedgerow, alongside his cravat.