Julia London 4 Book Bundle (5 page)

Jason instantly shook his head. “Lady Dashell said you weren’t to go there.”

Lilliana smiled brightly. “I’m not to race, either, and you did not protest too strongly. Oh,
do
come with me!” she urged him, and started Susie in the direction of the tenant cottages, blithely ignoring Jason’s calls to turn back before her mother discovered where she had gone.

When they returned to the Grange two hours later, Lilliana was a bit more frantic than she let on. She really had not intended to be gone so long and had little doubt her mother was already scouring the countryside in search of her. This would earn her a grand tongue-lashing at a minimum, which she prayed would be all. Heaven help her, she just could not please her mother.

Inside the stables, Lilliana donned a drab brown cloak she kept there just for emergencies such as this, and was frantically trying to stuff errant strands of blond hair into something resembling a coif when she heard her mother calling. Wincing, she redoubled her efforts to repair her hair.

“Hurry, Miss Lilliana!” At sixteen, Jason had just been promoted to the position of groom, of which he was exceedingly proud. Which was why the prospect of facing Lady Alice Dashell at the moment scared him more than it did Lilliana. Not two days ago Lady Dashell had threatened to hang him if she discovered him racing Lilliana again. He peered nervously out the stable door. “She is coming this way!” he hissed.

“Hurry and get yourself up in the loft!” Lilliana whispered frantically, and yanked her cloak tightly around her. Jason did not argue; he pivoted and bolted for the back of the stables, disappearing into the loft just as Alice Dashell swung the door open.

“
Lilliana!
God in heaven, where have you been?” her mother snapped.

Bloody hell, judging by the tone of her voice, this could be worse than she thought. Lilliana forced a cheerful smile to her lips. “I was just saying hello to the horses, Mama. I’m very sorry, I did not hear you.”

The frown that creased Lady Dashell’s face would have made a warrior cringe. “I find it rather hard to believe that you did not hear me just moments ago, miss,” she said as she stalked toward the stall.

“Oh! Did you call?” Lilliana asked sweetly, her smile widening as her mother closed in on her. Dear God,
please
don’t let her see the mud on my gown, she pleaded silently, and to be safe, moved to the horse’s side as her mother marched to a halt in front of her.

“What on earth are you doing?” Lady Dashell demanded.

“Why, nothing, Mother! Oh, you mean
now
? I am, ah, brushing Susie, because she—”

“Not in one of your good gowns, I should hope!”

“Oh no, mum. I put on this old cloak so as not to spoil my gown.”

Alice Dashell punched her fists to her hips and glared at the horse. “And just where have you been?” When Lilliana hesitated in a frantic effort to think of an answer, her mother angrily shook her head. “Never mind! Come now, and leave the task to that worthless groom. There is a gentleman caller for you,” she said, and impossibly, her stern frown deepened.

“Lord Benedict?” Lilliana asked, and suppressed the strange urge to yawn. Benedict had, of course, hinted at his intentions, and Lilliana supposed she was prepared to accept him. He was a nice sort of fellow, although a little weak in the knees. She had discovered that one morning when they were strolling the grounds and a poor little bird fell from its nest. Benedict had gone positively green, but she had thought to save it and had become rather disgusted with Benedict’s squeamishness. But she supposed it hardly mattered that he did not share her enthusiasm for life—he was as good a match as she could ever hope to find in the middle of absolutely nowhere as she was.

How painfully aware she was of
that
, just as she was painfully aware of her advanced age. At two and twenty, she should have been married by now, maybe have a babe or two. And to make matters worse, her sister Caroline was absolutely desperate to marry Mr. Horace Feather. Unfortunately, she could not until Lilliana had married, because, as their mother pointed out to Caroline on an almost daily basis, that was the way things were done in the country. So her sister spent every day absolutely frantic that Lilliana stood in her way of everlasting happiness. Benedict would solve all that, Caroline reasoned, and Lilliana could not
dream
of doing better.

“I wasn’t expecting Lord Benedict today,” she added, and sighed unconsciously.

“No, not Lord Benedict,” Lady Dashell replied impatiently.

Lilliana glanced curiously over her shoulder as she smoothed Susie’s mane. “Then who? Please don’t tell me it is that mean Mr. Willard again! I did
not
harm his silly old clock! That old thing was broken
long
before I tried to wind it—”

“Not Mr. Willard!” Lady Dashell fairly shouted. “It is Lord Benedict’s brother.”

It took several seconds for that to register. Stunned, Lilliana jerked her head to her mother.
Adrian
Spence had come to call on her? The Earl of Albright? The most fantastically masculine man in all of England? “Wh-what? What did you say?” she gasped.

“Oh dear, what have you done to your hair?” her mother moaned.

Lilliana suddenly lunged at her mother and grabbed her shoulders, causing the woman to shriek in surprise. “Mother, is it
Adrian
Spence? Lord Albright? Do you mean to tell me he is
here
? Oh my God, oh my
God!
”

“Lilliana, get ahold of yourself!” Alice Dashell demanded, and grabbed her wrists, forcing her arms to her sides. “Turn around so that I might do something with your hair!” she snapped, and shoved her around to begin jabbing her hair into place.

“But what is he doing
here
?” Lilliana cried. Her mother did not answer immediately, and pushed Lilliana’s head around when she tried to look over her shoulder.
“Mother!”

“He wants to speak with you!” Lady Dashell snapped, as if it was perfectly obvious. “Now listen to me, Lilliana. You will remember that Lord Benedict has been very persistent in his courtship, and you have given him every reason to believe his attentions are welcome. I should not be surprised if things may have been said between the two of you, but you must be cognizant that there are other suitors—”

“Lord Albright wants to
court
me?” she gasped in disbelief.

“There are other suitors,” her mother continued evenly, “and your duty is to choose the one who can give you the most comfortable and prosperous existence … without making too great a demand on your family. Do you understand? You know we have been through a rough patch recently, and while I know you are fond of Lord Benedict, you must be aware—”

Lilliana wrenched free of her mother and whirled around, gaping at her in astonishment. She was going to swoon. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she was going to drop dead where she stood! Adrian Spence wanted to court her? It was not to be believed! This was some sort of waking dream, and to prove it, she quickly pinched her arm. That hurt—oh God, she was not dreaming!

“Lilliana.” Her mother sighed heavily. “Do not look so overjoyed. It makes you appear simple.”

“But … but there must be some
mistake!
Are you quite certain he did not ask for Caroline? Surely he asked for Caroline! A man such as Lord Albright would call on
Caroline
, not
me!
”

“I am quite certain he asked for you, dear. Please stop twisting the buttons on your cloak before they break off.”

“But … but
why
? Mother, do you realize that Lord Albright could court whomever he wants—and believe me, the rumors are that he
has
—”

“Lilliana!”

“But not someone like me! I don’t understand why he would call on we!”

Lady Dashell frowned as she reached to straighten the collar of Lilliana’s cloak. “You won’t understand until you see him, will you? Now come with me—and do
not
gush like a simpleton, and do
not
show him such blatant favor right away! It is quite unseemly for a young woman to pounce on the first compliment she receives!”

Lilliana barely heard her mother—her head was reeling. There was some mistake. Or someone was playing a
cruel joke on her, a very cruel joke. From almost the time she could walk, she had dreamed about Adrian Spence. When she was a child, her mother would take her and her siblings along when she visited Lady Kealing. She remembered Adrian as tall and handsome and
terribly
dashing. He would tweak her nose and give her sweets and entice her to sing little ditties. She had worshiped Adrian Spence even then, had followed every word ever said about him—and God knew there was no lack of gossip. Everyone in Kealing, Newhall, and Fairlington knew he was a rogue, a scoundrel, and a daring adventurer.
A dangerous gentleman
, they said, who fought with his father—about what, she had no earthly idea—and anyone else who crossed him. He had traveled extensively and made himself an
enormous
fortune, one so great that everyone in the parish felt compelled to whisper when they spoke of it. He was reputedly a high-stakes gambler, had questionable taste in feminine companions, and had participated in at least two duels, one even in
France.

The Earl of Albright was a man who knew how to live life to its fullest, to experience all there was. He did exactly what she craved—to live! Except that she was not allowed to live, not here, not socked away at Blackfield Grange like some country bumpkin. Good Lord, given half a chance, she would
soar
, just as Adrian Spence did every day of his life! The fact that he, of all people, had come to call on her was enough to make her think she had finally died and gone to heaven.

“Stop staring off like that! Oh my Lord, he will think you are completely addled!” her mother said with a twinge of desperation.

Lilliana smiled broadly. “I can’t believe it! He has come to call … on me!” she cried, and impulsively threw her arms wide and twirled around in the stable.

“Stop that!” Lady Dashell insisted, and grabbed Lilliana’s wrist. “Come along, the man has been waiting long enough as it is! Jason! Bring yourself down here and
rub this horse down! And if I catch you racing again, I shall hang you from the oak on the bowling lawn, do you hear me?” she shouted.

“Yes, mum!” came the muffled reply, but Lady Dashell was already pushing Lilliana out of the stable.

     
L
ADY DASHELL PUSHED
her daughter toward the formal drawing room with the whispered admonishment that she should
never
keep an earl waiting so long, as if Lilliana had done it on purpose. When they reached the closed oaken doors, Lady Dashell jerked the cloak from her shoulders, reached for the brass handle, and flung them open. Lilliana barely registered the presence of her father and brother inside with Lord Albright before her mother pushed her across the threshold.

“Lord Albright, may I introduce my daughter, Lilliana?” her father said, coming to his feet. Her mother nudged her none too gently with her foot, and Lilliana immediately sank into a curtsy … at which point she remembered the mud on her gown, and artfully stepped behind a high-backed settee. She smiled at the earl—or rather, she
hoped
she was smiling. With her hair all mussed and her exuberance spilling from every pore, she suspected she looked something like a goose. If Lord Albright thought so, he was very careful not to show it.

“Miss Dashell, it is my extreme pleasure to make your acquaintance again,” he said smoothly as he
crossed the room to take the hand she clumsily thrust at him. Smiling at her, he lifted it to his lips.

Oh hell, how very
dashing
, she thought dreamily as he lowered her hand, as dashing as she remembered him, and Lord knew she remembered every single thing about him. Except how very handsome he was. Good God, he was handsome—hair neither brown nor blond, but a rich mixture of both, hazel eyes flecked with gold, and his lips, heaven help her, his lips were full and soft and the very deep color of raspberries.

“Lilliana?” her mother squeaked.

“I, um, the pleasure is mine, my lord,” she said hoarsely. Wonderful. She was making a cake of herself and had barely opened her mouth.

“You are too kind,” he murmured, and smiled so warmly that the corners of his eyes crinkled.

Lilliana’s knees buckled.

“Well!” her father exclaimed, and coughed loudly. “Shall we sit?” He took Lady Dashell’s arm and led her to a couch. Lord Albright politely extended his arm to Lilliana, and she very gingerly laid her hand on it, taking care not to touch him
too
much. Clutching the front of her skirt so that he would not see the mud, she allowed him to seat her on the settee. Tom remained standing at the pianoforte, his eyes narrowed on Lord Albright as he seated himself in a chair nearby.

Her father cleared his throat. “Pleasant weather for the time of year,” he said, and began speaking of the weather—it was unusually warm. The southern breezes were particularly delightful in the early evening hours, but it would be a mild winter. Lord Albright agreed, and mentioned an unusually warm winter spent in Rome.
Rome
—how terribly romantic! But why on earth Tom should roll his eyes at that was beyond Lilliana. Honestly, Tom was acting as if he was miffed. Actually, everyone was acting odd, she noticed with a quick glance at her parents. Her very prim and proper mother did not so much as open her mouth, but sat stiffly beside her husband, staring blankly at the vase of fresh-cut flowers
on a little table near the hearth. Even her father looked very uncomfortable, which was very unlike his amicable self.

As for
her
, well, she had to concentrate to keep from gaping, and speaking was out of the question. It was impossible to comprehend how he had come to be in her drawing room, and to think he was actually
calling
on her completely unfathomable. And worse yet, it was absolutely breathtaking to behold him. From his long, tapered fingers drumming absently on one astoundingly muscular thigh, to the perfectly tied silk neckcloth that just brushed his square jaw, to the wavy hair that extended well past his collar—he was, in a word, magnificent. So magnificent that Lilliana was awestruck.