Timeless Passion: 10 Historical Romances To Savor (68 page)

“What are your thoughts, Lord Brighton?”

His name rang in his ears as all the objects of the room — the table, the chairs, the ceiling, and the walls, which only a moment ago seemed so far removed — came rushing in at him. All at once, details emerged from obscurity, everything from the paintings to the curtains, the meal and the lighting, the eyes upon him, especially
hers
, and advanced to complete visual clarity in an instant. It was as if his eyes adjusted faster than his mind, and he consequently glanced toward Desmond Kingsley, the source of the voice, as he continued to awaken.

Lydia, for her part, looked at him sharply, with a quick turn toward Rhianna, and Desmond’s glance was no less piercing.

Lord Kingsley was quick to come to his rescue. “Of course, Lord Brighton, you agree with me that there has been quite a bit of chaos in Bristol — a violent business, to be sure.”

Fully alert now, he nodded his agreement. “Indeed, Lord Kingsley, I do agree with you there.”

“Oh, Guilford,” cried Lydia, “I beg you, parliamentary reform is a gentlemen’s topic to be discussed over port and cigars. Pray, wait until the ladies have escaped to coffee and cards.”

“Quite right,” he agreed, taking a large bite of his lamb cutlet, “quite right. Brighton, would you pass the asparagus? Thank you.”

• • •

“You’re looking particularly handsome tonight,
Miss Braden
.”

Rhianna shuddered at the emphasis on her name, recalling Desmond’s wish that they address one another on a more informal level. His compliment, too, was unwelcome and she thanked him briefly with hopes of turning the subject.

“How do you enjoy your fish, Lord Kingsley?” she asked him, her voice a little louder, hoping to avoid engaging him in private conversation.

“Have I eaten fish? I hardly noticed.” Smiling devilishly, he whispered, “What
have
you done to me?”

“You, sir, are a hopeless flirt,” she discouraged, taking a sip of her wine and refusing to look him in the eyes.

“A flirt, indeed, but
hopeless
…” he stressed, “… I should hope not.”

She turned to him, but as was usual when Desmond wished to emphasize his point, he turned away and joined the conversation of the table, allowing Rhianna no opportunity for rebuttal.

In this moment, she met Thayne’s glance. As there seemed to be an understanding that he had observed and understood the type of unpleasant communication that had passed between her and Desmond, the unspoken exchange had an unexpectedly calming effect, and she smiled at him. From across the table, he returned the expression and stole a glance at the corner of her mouth that only the night before his own had touched. Her lips warmed at the recollection, as did her cheeks, and when he met her eyes again, her smile widened. His action revealed the thought that diverted his gaze, and to Rhianna his seat on the opposite side of the table no longer felt so very far away.

• • •

It was a familiar sensation to Lydia Kingsley, one she could not quite place her finger on, but unpleasant nonetheless. Of course, she had little time for such mild irritants. Indeed, Lydia had greater things to concern herself with than Rhianna Braden’s presence in her dining room, even if she was all but certain the governess was her husband’s mistress.

This, in itself, was no small matter. Lydia had held the same ideals on her wedding day as did most young brides — not that she intended to give up her Pierson, but she hoped to enjoy Guilford, as well. Not only that, but she’d always had a lingering sentimental attachment to the husband of her youth, so that even the most meaningless affair would give her a pinch.

But that alone would not have caused the uncomfortable sensation she now felt, and she felt it tonight more than any other with Rhianna. It was not altogether new to her, but something she had known some time ago, a feeling familiar, distasteful. Lydia could not put her finger on it, but it was almost as if the girl’s presence was … watchful.

And she shuttered.

• • •

After dinner, the ladies endured a little awkward silence in the half-hour they spent alone in the drawing room. Crispin had been invited to stay with the men, which he did begrudgingly; therefore, Audra sat by the fire, silently inconsolable. Lydia’s presence alone was enough to put a pall on the mood, though, as hostess, she did make an effort to comment on the fruit tarts. Had she not been there, Lady Brighton and Rhianna might have enjoyed themselves quite thoroughly. As it was, each was left to raise a few humdrum, universal topics until they were exhausted, with little more than a few knowing glances exchanged here and there to relieve them.

Crispin was the first to bounce into the room. With only a quick greeting to the others, he went to Audra’s side.

“You think I had fun without you?” he asked her, seeing her dejected position in the chair, her chin resting on her arm, her eyes gazing into the fire.

She refused to look at him. “Of course you did,” she said, with what Rhianna recognized as pretend anger.

“They allowed me to try the port,” he told her, mildly intoxicated.

“How was it?”

“It makes you look lovelier.”

Only her eyes turned to him. “I’m not entirely sure that’s a compliment.”

Crispin’s face contorted, giving one the impression he was rethinking it with some difficulty. “It was meant to be.”

She grinned, her eyes returning to the flames.

“Audra, please look at me. I can’t stand it.”

“It’s Miss Kingsley to you.”

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“No.”

Audra sat upright in her chair and socked him in the arm, forgivingly.

Meanwhile, Guilford, Desmond, and Thayne entered the room and the overall spirit improved dramatically. The desserts already enjoyed by the ladies were now extended to the men, as Lord and Lady Kingsley, Desmond, and Thayne began a game of cards. Rhianna proposed to Audra she play a couple of songs on the piano for everyone’s enjoyment, and with Crispin’s added encouragement, she consented.

“She plays very well,” Lady Brighton complimented to Rhianna, halfway through her first song.

Swelling with pride, Rhianna nodded. “She has a talent for it.”

“Certainly, as well as a gifted instructor, I am sure.”

Overhearing their conversation, Lydia gave a smug look from the card table. “Why don’t you play for us, Miss Braden?”

Although convinced that Lydia’s intention was nothing if not meant to either embarrass or overwhelm her, it had no such effect. Audra, Lydia’s own daughter, had been thoroughly enjoying herself at the keys and Rhianna could think of nothing but her feelings.

“I, too, should like to hear you play,” added Desmond.

“Lady Kingsley,” Rhianna returned, respectfully, “Miss Kingsley has only just begun to play. Surely, I can play for you all some other time?”

“Oh, I’m sure Audra would not mind, would you, dear?”

Audra, who had already stopped playing, seemed more than aware that her mother was not really giving her a choice. She slid off the bench and walked over to Rhianna.

Lord Kingsley interposed. “Miss Braden, you do not have to perform for us tonight.”

His words had a finality to them that Lydia did not presume to challenge.

Audra, taking Rhianna’s hands, chimed in, “Actually, I think Miss Braden plays and sings very well. I would like to hear you,” she added, standing before Rhianna.

“As would I,” added Lady Brighton. “But only if Audra promises to resume her concert afterward.”

“I agree,” Thayne declared, placing down his hand of cards, “I cannot possibly listen to Miss Braden if Miss Kingsley will not continue immediately afterward.”

Rhianna caught his eye as he said this last, and wondered at the curious grin that crossed his lips. Then, she turned to Audra, who tugged on her to encourage her to rise from her seat.

“One song,” Rhianna told her, “if you promise as Lord and Lady Brighton have suggested.”

Audra, not seeming at all bothered by the temporary dismissal, promised to resume her playing after Rhianna was done and plopped into a seat near Crispin.

“Do sing, as well, for us,” Lydia interjected, as Rhianna took her seat at the piano.

Rhianna let her fingers rest upon the keys. She had always felt comfortable at the piano, but it had been some time since she had performed before company. Also, she fought desperately to block the thought that Thayne was in the audience, listening. She took a deep breath, chose to sing a French song that she learned from Soleil as a young girl, and allowed the first notes to play out.

The moment passed more quickly than she imagined it would. The tune itself transported her back to her younger years in France and she felt as though Soleil were beside her. She felt at home with the melody and her mind even ventured away from it as she considered how much she truly wished to see both Soleil and Philippe — just how much she missed and loved them. With these thoughts, she concluded her recital, unaware of the effect she had on the group.

Her glance first met Lord Kingsley’s. He sat overcome, his eyes appearing glassy, and she turned away awkwardly. Lydia said nothing; Crispin suddenly stood and erupted with applause.

“You see, I
told
you she sang very well,” cried Audra, to the speechless crowd.

Lady Brighton was the next to comment, her hand pressed to her chest. “Breathtaking, Miss Braden. I have never heard the like.”

“It reminds me of someone,” declared Desmond, “but I cannot recall whom. In any case,
bravo
!”

“To whom do you credit your gift?” asked Thayne, who had joined Crispin with his applause. “Undoubtedly, your mother or your father was very talented.”

Rhianna shook her head. “Actually, neither was very musical.”

“Well,” Lady Brighton concluded, “God has given you quite an ability, I declare! I hope you will do us the honor of singing for us again soon.”

Rhianna humbly thanked them, as Lord Kingsley quietly excused himself from the room. Her eyes followed him anxiously, but Audra soon distracted her by hopping onto the piano bench beside her.

“I’m going to play my song now, but afterwards, Crispin and I would like to go to the library to play backgammon. Will you take us?”

Lydia had no objections; looking frequently aggravated by the both of them, she gave permission in Lord Kingsley’s absence. Thus, Rhianna conceded, though her disappointment at leaving the drawing room — and Thayne — was more than a little heavy.

Audra concluded her song. Rhianna was glad to see that at some time during it, Lord Kingsley returned looking his usual self. Crispin gave a second standing ovation and they prepared to leave for the library.

“Miss Braden,” called Thayne, hurriedly, “do you play chess?”

Rhianna turned to him, as he sat with a handful of cards with the group. Quickly making the connection that the chessboard was also in the library, Rhianna wondered if it was too much to hope this was where his thoughts were leading.

“No, I … I should like very much to understand it, however, I have never had the opportunity to learn,” she ventured.

Thayne nodded definitively. “You ought not to waste another moment. Mother,” he turned, “would you do me the favor of taking over my hand? I think I’ll be joining the group to the library.”

“Of course,” Lady Brighton agreed, smiling and rising at once.

Thayne seemed unashamed that he deliberately chose to leave the drawing room to remain with the children and their governess. Lord Kingsley seemed to have no position on the matter and Lady Brighton seemed to highly support it by taking over his hand, while Desmond looked highly irritated, and Lydia appeared stunned.

• • •

Audra and Crispin had been talkative with Rhianna and Thayne during the majority of the trek from the drawing room to the library, but as they ascended the stairs to the top floor they began to skip ahead and chat animatedly between themselves.

“I hope it was not intrusive of me to accompany you,” Thayne remarked to Rhianna, seizing his opportunity at private conversation.

“No, of course you are welcome to join us,” she promised him. “I am glad of your company.”

“And I of yours,” he told her.

He stunned her momentarily, before she continued, “I only regret that you are missing out on socializing with the rest of the group.”

“And pray, what is there to miss? I think it comes as no surprise that Lydia and Desmond Kingsley are not high on my list of persons with whom I wish to associate for an entire evening, or even, for any part of an evening.” Rhianna held back a smile, and he went on, “Lord Kingsley and my mother I may see as frequently as I wish. But,” he emphasized, “when is it that I get to see
you
, Miss Braden?”

Curiously, she glanced at him. “Did you not see me yesterday at Ravensleigh?”

“Was that only yesterday?” he returned facetiously. “Humph, it seems much longer.”

“Yes,” she told him directly. “And two days before that, at the ball, did we not dance together?”

Thayne gave a thoughtful look. “An eternity ago, to be sure.”

His playful banter gave Rhianna pause as they reached the uppermost floor of Kingsley Manor and turned down the hall toward the library. She found it inconceivable that Thayne would be so unrefined as to knowingly tease her into false hopes of any romantic intensions. Surely, she thought, even
if
his heart were at all inclined toward her, he was too well-bred and gentlemanly for that. She felt it necessary to remind him of exactly the sort of decision he had made in leaving the drawing room.

“So, am I to take it that you would rather spend the rest of your evening with the Kingsleys’ governess than with the Kingsleys themselves?”

“That is not how I see it,” he told her. “Are we not friends, Miss Braden?”

She wrung her fingers together as she walked, unsure of her response. “Certainly,” she managed, with an unconvincing inflection.

Thayne’s tone was pained, as he declared, “It is not as impossible as you believe.”

He caught Rhianna’s eyes with a pleading expression, and she sighed. With every word, Thayne Brighton made it increasingly difficult for her to keep detached from her emotions.