My Lord Viking (33 page)

Seventeen

     
Linnea was pleased to come into the parlor and see her mother there.
 
No one else was in the comfortable room where Mama was checking the flower arrangement set on the lyre table near the tallest window.

     
“Ah, Linnea, just the person I had hoped to see.”
 
Mama motioned for her to come to her side.
 
“I trust I do not have to repeat the scold your father must have given you about failing to keep a close eye on the weather this time of year when we have so many thunderstorms brewing.”

     
“No, Mama, you do not need to repeat that scold.”
 
She kissed her mother on the cheek, not wanting Mama to guess that Papa had been too eager to introduce Dr. Foster to Nils to think of anything else.
 

     
“Good.”
 
Wiping bits of leaves from her hands, she said, “I understand you were with Lord Barrington.”

     
She flinched, then realized Mama was not talking of Linnea being in Nils’s rooms.
 
“Yes, we met on the shore.
 
We were playing with Scamp when the storm crashed down upon us.”

     
“With Scamp?”
 
Mama’s right brow rose sharply.
 
“I would not like to hear that anything else untoward had been happening.”

     
“I know, Mama.”
 
It was all she could say without resorting to falsehoods, and she already was being false with her family about Nils’s origins.
 
That dishonesty ate at her, twisting her stomach, each time she spoke with Mama or Papa.
 

     
Mama’s smile returned.
 
“I know you do, child.
 
You have always been the most prettily-mannered of all the children.
 
If it had been Dinah...”
 
She shook her head and chuckled.
 
“Your coquettish sister is now wed, so she is her husband’s problem.”

     
“Mama, when we came back from the shore, Papa introduced us to a friend of his.”

     
“Actually Dr. Foster went to school with my brother,” Mama said as she stepped aside while a maid set the tea tray on the table in the middle of the parlor.
 

     
“I never heard you speak of him before.”

     
Lady Sutherland laughed merrily.
 
“I doubt if I ever have had the need to speak of him.
 
It was quite out of the blue that he sent a request to pay us a call at
Sutherland
Park
.
 
Your uncle has visited him at his home in
Oxford
on several occasions, but I have not seen Dr. Foster since your father and I wed.”

     
“Did he say why he wanted to come here now?”

     
“I am sure that your father must have mentioned to you that Dr. Foster is in the midst of a project of some sort of historical research.”
 
Her mother’s smile faltered.
 
“Linnea, you sound disconcerted by Dr. Foster’s visit.
 
Is there something that bothers you about it?”

     
“Having a friend of my uncle’s calling is no reason for disquiet, is it?”
 
She tried to copy her mother’s cheerful laugh.
 

     
“Then what is amiss?”
 

     
“I hope nothing is.”

     
Sitting, Lady Sutherland patted the cushion beside her.
 
“I believe you are more distressed than you wish anyone else to know.
 
Olive told me that you had received a note from Lord Tuthill.”

     
“Yes.”
 
She sat, but promised herself that she would speak to Olive as soon as possible.
 
Olive needed to recall that she was no longer Linnea’s governess, but her maid.
  

     
“Are you bothered because Lord Tuthill is pressing his suit?”

     
“It is not a comfortable situation.”
 
It was glorious to be able to be forthright at last.

     
“You have inherited your father’s gift for minimizing your problems.”

     
“Mama, if you were to speak to Papa about my uncertainty, he might listen.”

     
Lady Sutherland’s fingers grazed Linnea’s cheek gently.
 
“My dear child, if you were to share your uncertainty with your father on this, he will heed you.
 
I think you have a greater problem.”

     
“Getting
Randolph
to heed me when I speak of my mistake in letting him think I wish to marry him now?”

     
“No.
 
I am speaking of—”
 
She abruptly stood.
 
“Lord Barrington, you are always so punctual.”

     
Linnea’s hands clasped more tightly in her lap as Nils gave Mama his most charming smile.
 
The way her mother had reacted to Nils’s arrival suggested that she had guessed quite rightly that Nils was the reason why Linnea was unsettled.
 

     
He bowed gracefully over Mama’s hand.
 
Again he was dressed in the perfectly tailored coat he had worn when he appeared at the house during Dinah’s wedding.
 
“It behooves a gentleman who is about to enjoy the company of two lovely ladies not to miss even a moment of any such opportunity.”

     
“I suspect you are a man, Lord Barrington,” Mama returned, “who seldom misses any opportunity that is to your favor.”
 

     
“You are right, my lady.”
 
He looked past her and smiled more broadly.
 
“You look much drier than when I last saw you, Linnea.”

     
Although she knew Mama would guess that he meant when they had parted ways in the foyer on their way to get their baths, fire slapped Linnea’s face.
 
How had she gotten so caught up in protecting Nils that she forgot to protect herself from ruin?
 
Yet, as his smile warmed his eyes—and her— she knew she would gladly risk anything for the chance to taste his kiss once more and once more after that and once more after that...

     
“Lord Tuthill, my lady,” came a footman’s voice from near the doorway.

     
Linnea’s stomach cramped, but she kept a smile on her face as Mama went to greet
Randolph
.
 
As always,
Randolph
was in prime twig, although she considered the bright green stripes of his waistcoat a bit garish.
 
She guessed he had assumed a preference for such colors during his last visit to
London
.
 

     
Rising, Linnea also went forward to greet him, pausing while he bowed over Mama’s hand.
 
His motions were even smoother than Nils’s, but his greeting did not sound as sincere.
 
That was absurd, for Nils was deluding everyone with his tales.
 
Or was
Randolph
trying to hide his true emotions as well?
 
That was a most unnerving thought.

     
Only when
Randolph
raised his head and scowled did she realize that she had stopped next to Nils.
 
She started to step away, but Nils’s hand at the back of her waist kept her beside him.
 

     
“He shows his determination to break your heart quite clearly,” Nils murmured.

     
She did not answer him as she stepped forward and offered her hand to
Randolph
exactly as her mother had.
 
When he grasped her shoulders and bent toward her, she turned her head at the last moment to keep him from kissing her on the mouth. She was almost certain she heard him mutter a very crude phrase under his breath as his lips brushed her cheek.
 

     
“
Randolph
!” she gasped, hoping she had misheard him.
 
A strong odor of something more potent than wine came from him, and she wondered how much he had been drinking before he had called.

     
He ignored her scold as he turned to greet her father who was coming into the room.
 
Randolph
’s cheerful smile would offer Lord Sutherland no hint that anything was bothering him, but Linnea knew only if
Randolph
was deeply distressed would he speak so in her hearing.

     
Linnea started to label Randolph a hypocrite in her mind, but halted herself.
 
She was no better than he was, for she played such a huge role in this lie that had taken over her life.
 
When broad fingers touched her back, the sensation as light and fleeting as a butterfly’s passage, she smiled.
 

     
Nils.
 

     
With no one else would she have been as aware of such a feathery caress, the mere passage of his fingers across her skin.
 
She would have dismissed anyone else’s touch as a chance contact.
 
While Papa introduced
Randolph
to Dr. Foster, just entering the parlor, she savored Nils’s touch.
 
She was courting danger to let him be so bold, but she wanted to enjoy this for as long as she could.

     
Randolph
held out his arm to her in a silent order.
 
Knowing that any hesitation might create the very scene she wished to avoid, Linnea put her fingers on it.
 
He clamped his hand over hers and gave Nils a cold smile.
 
She did not look at Nils as she let
Randolph
lead her to where the tea waited.
 
Her one effort to select a chair failed when
Randolph
seated her next to him on a small settee.
 

     
Nils crossed the room, chatting with Dr. Foster as if they already were the closest of tie-mates, and sat across from her.
 
When the toe of his boot brushed her slipper beneath the table, she wanted to smile.
 
He might be trying to fortify her for this disquieting gathering, or he might simply be attempting to disconcert her with the reminder of how much more intimately he wished to caress her.
 

     
“Linnea?”
 
Her mother’s tone suggested she was repeating herself.

     
“Yes, Mama?”

     
“Will you pour?”

     
“Thank you.
 
I would be delighted to.”
 
Anything to keep her fingers busy so no one could see how they quivered with anxiety—and anticipation—of Nils’s touch.
 

     
Linnea concentrated on serving the tea as she listened to the conversation around her.
 
It was cordial, but careful.
 
Randolph
asked Dr. Foster about his journey to
Sutherland
Park
and commented on the weather.
 
Mama expressed her delight that a storm had not come during Dinah’s wedding.
 
Papa accepted Dr. Foster’s congratulations on a good match for yet another daughter.
 
It was all exactly as it should be.