His Forbidden Debutante Read online

  ‘I remind you I wish for no misunderstanding with your sister. I would rather wait until after our wedding day. Claire deserves my pure decision unencumbered by ambiguous suggestion which will ensue if I enter into a venture with your family’s diamond mines.’ He dared a step backward to adjust his glove, but Allington continued his assault as if he wouldn’t allow the courtesy and Penwick quickly raised his weapon, noting with an unpleasant awareness the gentleman’s motives continued to present a concern. Allington’s attempt to inveigle his commitment to invest compounded the predicament.

  ‘My sister can be handled.’

  It was a troubling statement, thick with innuendo and poor intent. Penwick reacted with aggressive advancement, chasing his opponent backward at least three strides and challenging the last parry with a compound riposte which expressed his emotion as well as his skill.

  True, of late he’d reconsidered his decision to marry, wondering if the attempt to suit his title was misplaced. Perhaps he should allow time to erase the memories of the past and offer a more natural approach to a relationship. Yet another part of him, a stronger, more decisive section of his brain, forced the issue, insisting the only way he could move forward and forget Lavinia was to enter into a convenient, suitable union and lay the issue to eternal rest. When the vows were spoken there would be no looking back, no matter what secrets lay locked in his wardrobe, no matter what foolish promises his heart refused to dismiss.

  Most importantly, Claire deserved better. He had given his word and he would not break it. Nor would he cause Claire undeserved embarrassment. A broken engagement would impugn her honour and cast gratuitous aspersions. ‘I presume you speak as a glib older brother, otherwise I’m obliged to take insult on behalf of my intended.’

  ‘Aah, chivalry. Another of your redeeming characteristics. Always the proper gentleman. No wonder Father is inordinately pleased at your entry into our fold. Impeccable manners, esteemed title… the list is endless. Are you not flawed like the rest of us mortal beings?’ Allington’s words were spoken with fine-edged sarcasm.

  ‘Not while fencing.’ Penwick had had enough of their verbal duel and forced his advantage as Allington adjusted his stance near the corner. As predicted, the man attempted an envelopment to reverse their positions, but a swift lunge produced a forward recovery and they once again chased each other across the tiles, the hollow song of metal on metal left in their wake.

  ‘Unless your hesitation to do business indicates another issue afoot.’

  Would the man not let it rest? Penwick huffed a breath of impatience and struck with a quick turn of the wrist.

  ‘Mayhaps you’re not as wealthy as you would have society believe. Mayhaps you keep a pretty little brunette in a country cottage somewhere.’

  The suggestions were meant to unsettle, distract and provoke, and Penwick, usually impervious to amateur tactics, experienced a flick of anger that would not bode well for Allington’s continuation. He advanced without mercy, knocking the blade from his opponent’s grasp a stroke later.

  Allington’s laughter overrode the sound of his sword skittering to the far wall. ‘Anger. I like it. You’re not infallible after all.’ He raised his hand and Penwick hoisted him to stand. ‘Excellent bout.’

  ‘I knew the outcome before we began.’ Penwick found little humour in the confrontation.

  ‘Clever, and true.’ They walked to the side of the room and retrieved the towels they’d left waiting. ‘I won’t mention the investment opportunity again if that suits you, not even at dinner this evening with Father.’

  ‘I would appreciate the courtesy.’ He nodded his agreement.

  True to his word, Allington spared all talk of investment, though the subject of diamonds invaded almost every other discussion. Penwick would have to grow accustomed to their centrality in the conversation once he became part of the family, as each member rhapsodised endlessly about mines, gemstone quality and jewellery design. And of course, the impending wedding proved a favourite topic as well. But as the evening ended and he retired in his guestroom, his thoughts were not focused on gemstones or betrothal rings. He stared out the window and remembered a passage from one of Lavinia’s letters where she spoke of wishes and dreams for the future, and with a bit of whimsy he wondered what she was doing at the selfsame moment he thought of her as he stood near the window at Clipthorne.

  Chapter Eight

  Fancy the circumstances that placed your wayward letter into my hands. Mr Crownwell’s eyesight has been failing steadily and one never knows what will be bundled together when Father retrieves the mail from the innkeeper at Ludlow. It makes for very interested supper conversation. Rather than have Father travel back to correct the error, I volunteered to return your unopened message accompanied with my note explaining the circumstances. I never expected your words of thanks the following week, and I’m grateful our correspondence flourished from there. I very much look forward to your letters. Until someday… Lavinia

  ‘Do hurry, Dinah,’ Livie clamoured as she rushed down the hilly embankment and approached the Serpentine in Hyde Park. Mist floated across the lake’s surface at the early hour, as calm as a sleeping dream, and while she had enough determination for the both of them, Livie knew Dinah would have much preferred to stay abed, or at the least, be left behind with the warming brick inside the carriage.

  ‘Your boots will become stained.’ A strident tone of censure matched the dire prediction.

  Livie wondered how Dinah accomplished the scold, being younger and less experienced in the ways of the world. ‘My independence is more important than footwear and these soles are nearly worn through. I selected these apurpose. Besides there are worse things in life than soiled slippers.’ She mumbled the latter more to herself than her maid.

  ‘Shall I bring the blanket?’

  A smile tilted Livie’s mouth, though she remained far enough ahead that Dinah would never see it. ‘If you prefer.’

  When the fancy struck, Livie spent an early morning hour at the water’s edge where she scanned the glass-like lake with aspiration for the forthcoming season when the water would freeze and she could fulfil another promise to herself and learn to ice skate.

  ‘Here you are.’ Dinah made a fuss of wrapping the woolly brown blanket around their shoulders, snuggled together only a few strides from the water. ‘You will achieve it this year. I feel it in my bones.’

  ‘That may be the low temperature affecting you. It is particularly frigid this morning, isn’t it? The season has taken a turn.’ She pulled the corners of the blanket more firmly around their huddled forms to create a cocoon of warmth. Still, the words weren’t voiced as complaint. Whenever London became quiet and chilled like this morning, she was reminded of Shropshire and the happy countryside years spent there with her family. ‘Thank heavens my come-out is in less than a week. No one wishes to attend a party where the guests are confined to a stuffy parlour or overcrowded ballroom, especially when Kirby Park offers such frondiferous acreage.’

  ‘I agree, although our discomfort is due to the hour. The sun hasn’t warmed the air yet.’

  ‘Dr Morris discouraged my desire to skate. He expressed the activity would be especially damaging to the ankles, although I believe he never anticipated my thorough recovery. Aunt Kate tells me the doctor is shocked every time he hears of yet another of my accomplishments.’ She paused, though Dinah had nothing to add. ‘And truly, how difficult can it be to balance on the metal blade? I’ve watched skaters glide across the ice as if it requires no effort at all, including old Lord Braven who walks on land as if he’s consumed too much whisky, yet manages to stay upright, as graceful as a gazelle, when upon the ice.’

  ‘You will achieve anything you set your mind to. I have no doubt.’ Her maid’s vow was a vehement whisper.

  ‘Nor do I and I thank you, Dinah.’ Livie snuggled deeper into the blanket’s warmth. ‘I’ve already drawn a detailed sketch of the most beautiful printed-leather skating boots. I’m h
oping Mr Horne is up for the challenge. The cuffs are trimmed in ermine.’

  Dinah responded with a raised brow, but her maid’s exaggeration didn’t deter in the least. It was a personal challenge and daunting obstacle she needed to overcome, to test her ability on the ice, and no one was going to stop her. Not her sister’s well-meant coddling, Dashwood’s overbearing protectiveness, or the cost of divine leather skates.

  ‘Remind me again why it is important we visit the lake at this cruel hour?’ A shiver repeated its path through Dinah, the maid cosying closer.

  Livie laughed outright. ‘Because now that we’ve come and I’ve affirmed my devotion to the task, we can return home while everyone else is just awakening. I’ll explain how we’ve taken a bit of fresh air on our walk and we’re ravenous for breakfast. The whole world stops when I suggest I’m hungry.’ She nodded to reinforce that observation. ‘If I dared mention I wished to come out to the park, it would be arranged for afternoon hours when every dandy and English rose crowded the promenade, not to mention I’d be pestered for my reason until my ears bled and then told I should concentrate on the arrangements for my debut instead of foolish dreams about ice skating.’ Her mouth dropped into a frown. ‘Wilhelmina and Dash wish to protect me from the world. What a foolish endeavour.’

  ‘I see.’ Dinah reached between the folds of the blanket and squeezed Livie’s hand. ‘In that case, I’m very glad you woke me. As before, I’ll remind Johnny Coachman to keep our secret.’

  Instinctively, they glanced over their shoulders, noses almost bumping, to ascertain the carriage waited patiently in the roadway, as it did, although their attention was drawn to another conveyance as it made its approach to the exact same location despite the ungodly hour.

  Livie held her breath, sending a silent vow skyward and willing the coach to continue along its journey, but it didn’t. It stopped beside her carriage and the two drivers commenced conversation. She couldn’t imagine why.

  Dinah immediately unravelled herself from the blanket. ‘Shall I see what this is about?’

  ‘I suppose…’ Livie’s voice trailed off, undecided and more than a little curious. The last thing she needed was for a tale to be created about her having odd proclivities or unnatural habits. Aunt Kate often reminded society held females, debutantes especially, to a strict code of conduct while the same indiscretions were overlooked in gentlemen of any age. She returned her focus to the lake, noticing in a blurred last glance that the arriving carriage displayed a crest upon the door. With any hope, the elder peer inside would hurry on his way. Erring on the safe side to ensure she wouldn’t be noticed, she scooted behind the muscular trunk of a nearby hornbeam tree and aligned her body to all but disappear, only taking pause to untangle her hair where it snagged tight on an irregular piece of bark.

  Trapped for the time being, she examined the boughs. Gone were the catkins and nuts, the branches barren except for an abandoned bird’s nest crammed into a vee in one of the lowest limbs. The new sun asserted itself in the sky, a bright ray casting light to glint off a silvery object woven into the collection of twigs and leaves. Dare she take a look?

  Checking her position as to stay as concealed as possible, she tiptoed to the empty nest and plucked it from the branch, cradling the fragile creation in the bowl of her hand. At closer inspection the nest proved a wonder of nature. Little bits of coloured thread, scraps of cloth and pliant foliage interwove in neater stitches than she’d ever accomplish with an embroidery needle, and as she’d noticed, along the outer rim a thin silver bracelet laced the other additions.

  Her breath caught and her eyes grew wide as if unexpectedly meeting an old friend one thought gone forever. It was her mother’s charm bracelet, Wilhelmina’s bracelet now, although her sister had lost it in the Thames and they’d all believed it forsaken. They’d mourned it thoroughly. But how could it be?

  Heedless to the bird’s fine handiwork, Livie removed the bracelet and tossed the nest into the grass before she extended the chain flat on her opened palm. How remarkable. Each of the bracelet’s five ornate charms remained intact. She couldn’t wait to show Whimsy… although the unsavoury conclusion she’d have to explain how she’d come by the bracelet snagged her excitement. Perhaps Dinah would have input to accomplish a plausible excuse.

  Where was Dinah, anyway?

  The crush of broken twigs and scattered leaves answered her silent question and Livie slipped the bracelet into her skirt pocket and flattened her back to the wide trunk of the hornbeam tree in wait.

  Please be Dinah.

  Please be Dinah.

  It wasn’t Dinah.

  Nor was it someone who’d come to disrupt her private contemplation and discover her hiding place. The gentleman stalked right past without a sidelong glance, down to the edge of the Serpentine where he picked up a stone, freed by the tip of his polished boot, and skittered it across the lake with a vivid oath. The rock skipped five times. Impressive indeed, the best of the best only managed four. Her gasp of admiration must have squeaked out, for his head whipped round to discover her wide-eyed surveillance and, for the second remarkable incident of the morning, she recognised Lord W, his appearance exceedingly handsome and terribly wicked now that a knowing smile curled his mouth and erased all previous anger. They stood in silence and she observed how his stance relaxed, his shoulders eased, as if he were relieved for some unnamed reason. Surely something troubled him, but he’d now decided to let it go.

  Lud, she must look a ghastly fright wrapped in a worn, wrinkled blanket, her hair a mess and who knew what else, like a beggar orphan from the streets of St Giles. Not that she had any idea of the actual creature, but her vivid imaginings suggested it must be so.

  ‘Good morning.’

  His voice sounded as wonderful as she remembered and a ripple of gooseflesh dotted her skin that had nothing to do with the chilly temperature outside.

  ‘Hello.’ Dare she move away from the tree trunk? It provided the sturdiest support. When he took a step closer, she decided not.

  ‘Your presence here is more than a surprise.’ His lips quirked and the half smile made her giddy. ‘As for me, my horses needed rest. I’ve pushed the team too hard in my hurry to return to London. That was not well done of me, as other things of late.’

  ‘I once knew a gentleman who held an extensive understanding of horses.’ She would have rolled her eyes at the inane comment if he didn’t watch her so keenly.

  ‘Most gentlemen entertain the common interest, yet I know better than to run an animal aground.’ He slanted a look over the lake as if discarding the words because they bothered him.

  Perhaps he was too involved in his regret to have noticed her idiotic retort, so she dwelled on it no longer and offered a sympathetic rejoinder. ‘I know how disappointment feels.’ The words came out in a hush.

  ‘Do you now?’ He studied her as if he wished to read her mind and she fidgeted under the blanket. Clearly her reply piqued his interest.

  ‘More than you can imagine.’

  ‘That is disheartening. A gentleman would never do so.’ He executed an elegant bow and her heart turned over. ‘The Earl of Penwick at your service.’

  ‘My friends call me Livie.’ This time the words came in a rush as her dreams sped ahead of her, barely waiting for her brain to keep pace.

  ‘Am I to be considered one? I held doubts after our waltz at Monsieur Bournon’s and my improper behaviour… ’

  ‘I never considered you rude.’ She blurted, aware too late, she’d committed her own breech of etiquette by way of interruption.

  ‘You are ever generous.’

  His compliment caused the strangest sensation in her belly, like having eaten too many sweets. A feeling one didn’t mind repeating no matter its odd impression.

  ‘And at the masquerade…’

  Something flickered in his eyes but it was gone before she could examine it.

  ‘I cannot imagine why you’d visit the lake this early, but if I’v
e learned anything of friendship it embodies the ability to know when or when not to ask questions.’ His sharp change of subject caused her to startle. ‘Still, you’ll become chilled to the bone if you stand against that tree much longer. Your cheeks are a fetching shade of pink and, when you speak, your breath dances in steamy little clouds.’

  The knowledge he examined her appearance and watched her mouth closely warmed her more than the blanket.

  He stepped closer and she poked a finger through the top of the gathers to adjust her spectacles. ‘Thank you for the kind words and prudent warning. I will take heed.’ Would she be wrong to consider his words flirtatious? She had little prior experience; most all her favoured compliments were received on the written page in Randolph’s letters, not during face-to-face conversation.

  They exchanged grins in the high-crowned glow of the sun as it burned through the cloud cover and she moved away from the hornbeam tree at last, surprised her legs supported her, as inside everything juggled in a flurry of jumbled emotions. With a curt goodbye, she fled up the embankment to where Dinah waited, her maid’s expression a mixture of curiosity, exasperation and utter disbelief.

  ‘Milady?’

  ‘Yes.’ They scrambled inside the carriage and took their seats. Livie made a great show of spreading the blanket across their laps, her lips pressed tight to silence the many words bouncing against her teeth.

  ‘What happened?’ The question burst from Dinah.

  ‘I conversed with the Earl of Penwick.’

  ‘Do you know him?’ The enquiry rose on the final word, lending a degree of incredibility.

  ‘No.’ Livie huffed a breath. ‘Although he feels familiar.’ How could she describe the spark of rightness and inner recognition, as if they knew each other on another level of existence, when she couldn’t understand the sensation?