Veiled in Blue (10 page)

He accepted politely, but with little enthusiasm, and then Sir Henry intervened and led Eve away. “I know you will not mind me speaking frankly,” he murmured as they made their way to the next room, “But I thought you were becoming too particular with a certain gentleman. If I had not asked you to accompany me, you might have accepted another dance from him, and of course that would never do.”

“Of course,” she murmured. Not that she necessarily agreed, but she had learned not to argue too much with the squire. He would discuss his point until everyone except him was tired of the topic and wondered why they had ever brought it to his notice. If she argued back this time, she would appear guilty.

The kisses she’d shared with Julius had marked her soul, burned deep, though she had tried to deny it, to wipe them from her memory. Every night as she drifted off to sleep, she felt the pressure of his lips, his body hot against hers, and yearning filled her.

It heated her now, shortened her breath until she was forced to use her fan in earnest. She tried to laugh her response away to Sir Henry. “The nights are agreeably warm, sir, don’t you think?”

“Indeed I do. Would you like a glass of chilled white wine? I ordered extra ice for this occasion. I knew the weather would grow warm.” As if he’d ordered it himself, he beamed at her. “My little celebrations are rarely marked by rain.”

Eve could think of at least three times she and her mother had made their way home in a downpour, but she wisely kept her counsel. “I have always enjoyed my visits here.”

He led her to the table bearing the wine and a bowl of punch. Sir Henry believed in a powerful punch, increasing the potency of at least two of the five ingredients. Wary of the deceptively fruity drink, she accepted a glass of wine instead.

Sir Henry helped himself to punch and continued to regale her with topics that must interest her, since they interested him. Anyone would think he was considerably older than she, when the difference between them was a mere seven years. His gravitas would have adorned a man of more mature years, as would his comfortable rotundity. But he was kind and considered himself the principal man in the district, despite the advent of the baron at the Manor, a baron who would, in the fullness of time, inherit an earldom.

A sense of devilry invaded her, crept in uninvited. “What a pity Lord Ripley was unable to attend tonight.”

Sir Henry shrugged, his tobacco-brown coat moving with his shoulders. That coat had seen a lot of evenings like this, and it knew how he moved. “One cannot blame him. He is besotted by his wife. He could have easily left her with her attendants tonight. Of course the man is to be commended for his care of his wife and heir, but—” His wry expression showed what he thought of a man ruled by his wife. “Mr. Vernon promised to convey my warmest wishes. It might yet bring him out of his house.”

Sir Henry would be easy to rule. The notion came unbidden, and at once Eve was ashamed of herself for thinking so.

“Madam, I would have a private word with you before the evening is out. I have something particular to ask you.”

She blinked. Surely he didn’t mean…

When she gave him her full attention, she recognized the warmth and the self-satisfaction. Finally, after years of remaining single, was Sir Henry contemplating taking a wife? Her, to be precise? His mother had prevailed, at last. Or perhaps Julius’s interest in her had given him the impetus to pursue his intentions.

He moved closer and smiled. Yes, he meant it. He would propose tonight. She could not refuse him on the grounds of waiting for a nebulous response from Mr. Vernon, and she refused to play one man off against the other. She would have to accept.

Dread filled her heart. She didn’t want to become a wife to a man who considered his spouse his duty. Never to see the world, to quench for good and all the restless spirit stirring inside her. To kill that dream put a stone in her stomach. If she married Sir Henry, her dreams would die. His kingdom was this district, a concentrated twenty-mile area he had no desire to leave. The occasional jaunt to Bath would be her only excitement. That was why she had tried so desperately to make a life for herself as a governess—until she had come up against the reality of struggling through life on a tiny annuity.

But how could she refuse him? What other prospect did she have? She might dream of Julius, but he would be moving on very soon and most likely forgetting her. She had known Sir Henry most of her life. On paper he was the better prospect, if he was, as she suspected, finally coming up to scratch. Forcing a bright smile to her lips, she said, “I’m flattered, sir.”

Once the baronet had made up his mind, he never changed it, a quality he frequently boasted of.

Panic rattled around her head. She would be thirty all too soon, and she had never achieved half the things she wanted to. Before the trap closed around her, she craved an adventure, something stupidly rash, but she must quell that desire and face reality.

As if she’d wished a bad fairy to appear, a smooth voice came from behind her. “Well met again, Miss Merton, Sir Henry. I thought I should inform you Lord Ripley has appeared in your main reception room.”

An odd expression crossed the baronet’s features, as if he were sorry and delighted at the same time. To have such an exalted character grace his rooms must fill him with pleasure, even if it meant he was not the highest ranked person present.

He bowed to her. “Should you like me to introduce you to his lordship?” he said.

A shadow seemed to darken the entrance to the room as his lordship entered. After a swift glance at Julius, who of course he knew, he crossed to them and bowed, while Julius made the introductions.

He stood tall, a dark shadow over his chin. He must have dark hair, but he was as devilishly handsome as Julius. A smile played around his mouth when he flicked another glance at his man of business.

Julius made short work of the introductions, making sure he led with her.

Lord Ripley bent over her hand, so close his breath touched it, although his mouth did not. “I’m delighted to meet you once more, ma’am. Sir Henry’s mother introduced me to your mama in the other room and directed me here so I could greet my host.”

His words were smooth, but they did not move her as Julius’s did. He was dressed much finer than Julius, in a crimson velvet coat and waistcoat embroidered with spring flowers and bees. The buttons on his coat and waistcoat glittered, their cut steel brilliance reflecting every speck of light the candles emitted. His neckcloth was tied in an apparently casual style, crisp with starch, and he wore an elaborate society wig, its snowy perfection casting all others, including Julius’s, into the shade.

She withdrew her hand as soon as she could and dropped a curtsey, thankful her education had covered matters like how low to go for a peer compared to a king. Not she would ever meet a king, and she was glad of that, too.

As if drawn, she glanced up at Julius. He was watching Lord Ripley, his face completely blank, but when he turned his attention to her, animation returned. A smile hovered at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes sparkled. “Shall we leave his lordship to get acquainted with our kind host?” He shot a sharp glance at Lord Ripley, not at all subservient, and then offered his support.

After a doubtful look at the pair, Eve placed her fingers on his arm and let Julius lead her away.

She leaned closer so she could speak to him alone. “Thank goodness you are not a popinjay!”

Julius swallowed, and his eyes opened wider. “Do you think Lord Ripley one such?”

“Oh, undoubtedly. I have rarely seen anyone so fine. I have always disliked people who pay too much attention to their appearance.”

“And you have seen many of these?” Frost edged his voice.

She had gone too far. “I saw many such fine creatures in Bath when I worked there. I don’t doubt that his lordship has many fine qualities. However, his appearance would daunt me far too much for me to speak to him in the same way I speak to you.”

Julius cleared his throat. “I see. I have seen finer in my time. Lord Ripley is accounted a somewhat careless dresser in the ton, but his wife has brought him up to the mark.”

“I have no time to waste on fine lace and costly silks. None at all.” She ignored the jealousy that had sparked in her heart. “I possess perfectly adequate garments, and that is all a woman needs.”

“You have never yearned for a fashionable gown?” He seemed amused now, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

“What good is there in yearning? I never wish for what I will not have.” To be more precise, she tried very hard not to.

Julius patted her hand. “I would like to see you in costly silks. It is a shame to keep your beauty shrouded.”

She was so taken with the compliment that she forgave him. She had once dreamed of such glories being hers, but had long since set her mind against it. She could not have them, so she would not wish for them.

The room had become crowded, especially around the table where hot viands were currently being served. She had not heard the announcement of supper, but while she had been talking, the fiddler had changed from dance music to quieter airs, indicating an interlude.

“Are you hungry? Would you care to eat?”

She shook her head. “Sir Henry always insists on plenty of food served, but I’m not in need of any.” At the name, her mood returned, and gloom descended on her like a cloud.

A frown appeared between his brows. “Are you perfectly well?”

“Of course. I have merely…heard some news.” But her voice dipped tellingly at the end, despite her efforts to appear cheerful. She suspected she would not have fooled him even if she had succeeded.

“Come with me.” He quickened his pace, but still managed to pass through the crowd as if there was nobody in their way.

They went out of the room, through the larger room which now contained groups of people conversing quietly and along the hall. He opened a door on the left and ushered her into a small, unremarkable parlor.

He closed the door. “You are overset,” he said. “What has happened?”

“Nothing.”

When she tried to withdraw her hand, he covered it with his, and linked their fingers. His other arm went about her shoulders and it was all she could do not to curl against him and lean her head on his shoulder.

That she ended doing it anyway was more because of him than of her. Insistent but steady urging had her where she wanted to be, so she didn’t resist much. “Sir, anyone could come in!”

“They’re all busy,” he said. “I’m more concerned about you.”

She would have lifted her head, but he curved his hand around her cheek, gently urging her to remain there. She was too weary not to. This was the place she had longed to be for weeks, but had not dared to allow it. Now she was here, she could resist no more.

Of course he kissed her, but he only gave her one soft, sweet kiss on her lips before he drew away. “I see trouble in your eyes,” he said. “I would like to think you would confide in me, but you don’t know me properly, do you?” He smiled softly and touched his lips to her forehead. “That is a situation I would like to remedy. As long as no one offered you an insult, in which case I will rise instantly to your defense.”

“No, of course they did not. Entirely the opposite.” Sir Henry would obviously not consider his request insulting. She sighed. “I believe I am about to receive a flattering offer, as the saying goes. Tonight.”

He raised a brow. His eyebrows were brown, a shade darker than the beard stubble she had noticed before, which was nowhere in evidence tonight. Unable to prevent the action, she snuggled closer into him. He wore a coat of dark blue embellished with black braid tonight, one she had not seen before, and a waistcoat of cream twill. Very smart, she’d thought him before she saw Lord Ripley’s finery. Indeed, she still thought so.

“I had not intended to rush into this, but rather than lose my chance, I will do so,” he murmured.

His hint did not affect her half as much as Sir Henry’s. The delicacy of his words gave her a chance to stop him before he was truly done, to pass off his words as a joke, which, for all she knew, they could be. “It’s Sir Henry. He said he wanted to speak to me when he had the time. It can be nothing but a proposal.”

“Did he, by God?” Julius said, somewhat louder than before. He cupped her cheek. “And will you accept him?”

“I have little choice.” She closed her eyes to force back the weak tears that threatened to fall. “He has shown an interest in me for years, but I cannot wish for it.”

When she opened them, his frown was back. “Go on.”

“Everyone in Appleton and beyond would consider me highly fortunate to receive such an offer. He is comfortably off, and the district looks up to him. His offer will delight my mother, and she will see it as our salvation.”

“But do you want to accept?”

She bit her lip before replying, “No.” The sting of the bite gave her something else to concentrate on, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. “But I must. My mother needs security, and Sir Henry can certainly provide that. I know his mother has impressed on him the necessity of a speedy union, and once mine hears of his intentions, the deed will be done. My word will mean little. How can I abandon my duty in such a way, they will say? I went to Bath to try to forge a different life for myself, but it did not work. I was too young, too attractive for a governess, they said, although I did my best to appear a dowd.”

“I see. Did Sir Henry say anything else? Have you committed yourself to him in any way?” His hand remained steady and his gaze purposeful.

Eve could rely on this man, his expression said. She could confide in him. Since she had no special friend and certainly nobody else she could talk to so freely, she would speak to Julius. He would be gone soon enough. Then she would go to her doom, head high, and make the most of what she had.

This could be her adventure, this man. While she would not insult her future husband by indulging herself in an affair, Eve could still talk to Julius, kiss him, and pretend she was a free agent. That she had some measure of control over her life and what she did with it. In truth, few people had that luxury.