Never Love a Scoundrel (24 page)

The door joining the sitting room to Audrey’s bedchamber opened and in walked Mr. Ethan Locke.

Lydia gaped at him. “Did you come in through Audrey’s bedchamber?” She swung an incredulous look at Audrey, whose cheeks had turned a faint pink.

Audrey inclined her head at Locke. “There’s a leaf on your sleeve.”

Locke plucked the yellowing foliage from his moss-green coat. “Thank you, Miss Cheswick.” He looked at Lydia. “Yes, I came in through Miss Cheswick’s bedchamber. She was kind enough to direct me up a tree outside her window. She is quite enterprising.” He slid her an appreciative glance.

What the devil was going on here? Was Locke flirting with Audrey? Lydia rather hoped he was. A little excitement would be good for Audrey.

Locke offered them a belated bow. “Good afternoon, ladies. Thank you for helping this poor gentleman.”

He was anything but “poor,” at least in his appearance. He was elegantly dressed with tan breeches, boots polished to a high sheen, and a smart white cravat sporting a small, jeweled pin that caught the sunlight streaming through the windows.

Locke moved toward Audrey, and Lydia was reminded of her childhood cat who stalked birds in the garden. “I’m pleased to finally make your formal—acquaintance, Miss Cheswick.”

Audrey held out her hand. “Mr. Locke, it’s a pleasure. Actually, this isn’t a formal acquaintance either, since we’re meeting in
secret
.” Her tone was daring, but the faint flags of pink in her cheeks told Lydia that her friend was nervous, as she often was around gentlemen.

Locke took Audrey’s hand and pressed a kiss to the back. He smiled lazily at her while she—slowly—withdrew her hand. “The pleasure is mine, but I’m delighted to share it with you.”

Audrey placed her hand in her lap but said nothing. Lydia couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Goodness, no one had probably ever flirted with Audrey. Did she even recognize it?

Locke turned to Lydia, breaking her reverie. “How shall we begin?”

Lydia nodded. “You said you wanted to waltz, so we’ll start there.”

“And end there,” Locke said pointedly. “I meant it when I said I didn’t want to learn any of those silly country dances.”

Audrey tipped her head to the side. “Thank goodness. I don’t particularly care for them either.”

Lydia shot her a surprised glance, but didn’t say anything.

Mr. Locke’s gaze took on a sheen of admiration as he regarded Audrey. “Dare I hope you’re to be my partner, Miss Cheswick?”

Audrey nodded.

“It would be my honor,” he said, offering his hand.

Audrey—again, very slowly—took his hand. He was wearing gloves, but she was not. Lydia wondered if she would’ve preferred to wear them too and made a mental note to ask her for the next lesson.

“Waltzing isn’t difficult,” Lydia began. “Audrey, show Mr. Locke where to put his hands.”

Audrey guided Locke to the middle of the space they’d cleared. He was staring intently at Audrey, and Lydia didn’t want him frightening her.

“Mr. Locke,” Lydia began, “you look nervous. This really is rather simple. There’s nothing to be alarmed about.”

“I think he looks bored,” Audrey said, her gaze locked on his. “In fact, I think he may even look beleaguered.” She lowered her voice a bit. “You don’t have to do this, you know. No one will care that you don’t dance. I rarely dance and no one even notices.”

“But no one’s watching you,” Locke said.

Lydia opened her mouth to take him to task for pointing that out, but shut it again after he whispered, “It’s criminal.”

Audrey glanced away then, and Lydia realized two things: Locke
was
flirting with Audrey, and Audrey knew it.

“Take her left hand,” Lydia said when it appeared neither Audrey nor Locke was going to move. “Then place your left hand at her shoulder blade. You don’t need to touch her firmly, just a light brushing of your fingertips is sufficient.”

That hadn’t been how Jason had touched her when they’d waltzed, but she didn’t see the need to encourage it here. It was all fine and good for Locke to flirt with Audrey, but his mysterious background did not recommend him for anything more permanent.

Locke complied with her directive and lightly splayed his hand across Audrey’s back. Because Audrey was quite tall, the top of her head came to his eyes. The top of Lydia’s head only came to Jason’s mouth. When had she noticed that detail?

“Lady Lydia,” Locke drawled, “We await your direction.”

She really needed to pay attention! She moved forward a step. “The waltz is a dance that is done in three-quarter time to the music. Your feet will move in a box-like pattern while you move around the room. It’s important that you remember to move and not just stay in your box. If you don’t, other couples will run into you.”

“I see,” he said. “Though that might be rather entertaining.”

Audrey giggled. “Oh it is, when it happens.”

“But let’s avoid it, shall we?” Lydia said. “Mr. Locke, you’re going to lead with your left foot.”

He frowned. “That feels odd.”

“Are you left-handed?” Audrey asked.

“Indeed I am,” he said, “how very astute of you.”

Audrey cocked her head to the side and regarded him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Left-handed people are said to be related to the devil.”

Lydia blinked. Where was her shy friend?

Locke’s lips curved up. “Yes, they are. And I’m sure you’ll find I’m no exception.”

Lydia coughed delicately. “Might we return to the lesson? Go ahead and step forward with your left foot.”

He did so, and Audrey automatically stepped back.

“Excellent, now you’re going to step forward and to the right with your right foot, making a right angle with your foot.”

Locke followed her instructions, and Audrey went along.

“Move your weight to your right foot, Mr. Locke, and then slide your left next to it.”

“Good. Now you’ll do the reverse. Step back with your right foot.” He did, and Audrey followed. “Move your left back and to the left—the opposite of what you did with your right going forward.”

He gave a single nod and complied.

“Put your weight back on your left foot and slide your right over next to it.”

After he completed the step, Lydia clapped her hands together. “Now you simply repeat it. I’m going to count as you do it. And let’s not worry about moving yet, let’s just master the steps.”

“Do you need to walk through it again?” Audrey asked. “You felt a trifle uncertain on that last step back.”

Locke’s mouth twisted into a faint scowl. “No. I think I have it. I am ready on your count, Lady Lydia.”

“And on one, two-three, ONE,” she called out. “Two, three, one, two, three.” She went slowly at first. Locke followed her cadence and moved as he ought. After three practice steps, Lydia went a little faster, and Locke kept up. For the first step. Then on the second he tried to lead with his left and kicked Audrey in the shin.

“Ow.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she withdrew her right hand from his shoulder to massage her leg beneath the hem of her skirt.

Locke watched her. He opened his mouth to say something, but then snapped it closed. He released her and tried to step back, but Audrey kept a hold of his right hand with her left.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Lydia, count again.”

Lydia counted, more slowly again, and he did fine for a series of five steps. “A little faster,” Audrey said.

Lydia complied and counted more quickly and this time, he managed three steps before trying to lead with his left. However, he corrected before he did any damage, and Audrey smiled at him encouragingly.

“Excellent work, Mr. Locke!” Lydia said. “Shall we take a break?”

Audrey released Locke’s hand and shoulder and stepped back. “I’ll go and fetch a tea tray.”

Once they were alone, Locke turned to face Lydia. “My brother is having a legitimate soirée at Lockwood House. What do you know about this?”

Though her involvement was supposed to be secret, she found she wanted to tell someone other than just Audrey. And since she and Locke shared confidences, she decided to trust him. “It was my idea, though that’s
my
secret that I’m sharing with you,” she said pointedly. “He ought to show Society he’s not just the scoundrel who provides those other entertainments.”

He chuckled. “I should have known you were managing this. And did you tell him to invite me?”

“In fact, I did. I’m glad he took my advice.”

“Thank you.” He studied her with interest. “You’re wrongly cast as an air-headed gossip with little awareness of loyalty.”

“You mustn’t believe everything you hear.” She nearly choked on those words since she’d always relied on people doing precisely that.

Audrey returned without a tea tray. She paused just over the threshold and clasped her hands. “Mr. Locke needs to go. My grandfather has returned home early.”

Locke frowned with disappointment. “What a shame.” But then he flashed a terrifyingly handsome smile, and Lydia saw a glimpse of what Jason might’ve looked like without his scar. And decided that she definitely preferred him with it. It wasn’t only that it gave his countenance character and a touch of vulnerability. It gave him depth and showed his strength—both inside and out.

“Until next time, ladies.” Locke bowed again and took himself off through Audrey’s bedchamber once more.

Lydia turned to Audrey and cocked her head to the side in mild bafflement. “You directed him through your
bedchamber
?”

Audrey’s eyes widened innocently. “It’s not as if I
met
him there.” Then her eyes narrowed playfully. “You don’t get to judge, not when you’re sneaking about with Lord Lockwood.”

Immediately, Lydia’s muscles tensed. She’d forgotten about her worries regarding Jason during the dance lesson, but now they came roaring back.

Audrey pressed her lips together, something she often did when she was worried. “Oh dear, what did I say?”

“It’s nothing,” Lydia said, refusing to be concerned about Jason Lockwood’s plans. His kisses might be divine, but she had no future with someone like him. His social standing might cost her a respectable circle of friends, he would saddle her with a notorious home, and his family was rife with madness. It was fine to maintain a friendship with him, but anything more would be foolish—she could never love a scoundrel.

Chapter Fifteen

IT HAD
taken time to organize everything for Lydia’s visit today, not the least of which had been how to get her here. Jason had ended up enlisting the surprisingly enthusiastic help of Mrs. Lloyd-Jones. Lydia was to have gone to her house for an afternoon call, but would then travel to Lockwood House in a hack.

Things had come together perfectly, with the exception of Mrs. Lloyd-Jones insisting on coming along. Jason hadn’t been able to argue the propriety, and it was for the best, since he couldn’t keep kissing Lydia, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Jason strode into the foyer near the appointed time of Lydia’s arrival with North at his side. “Everything is ready for Lady Lydia’s visit?”

“Yes, my lord. Everyone has the afternoon off save Cook, who is busy in the kitchen, and of course me.” They’d cleared the house to protect Lady Lydia’s reputation—he trusted his staff implicitly, but took the measure anyway.

“Cook is working on the samples for the party,” North said. “We’ll bring them up upon Lady Lydia’s arrival.”

“Very good.” Jason pivoted on his heel. “I’ll await her in the drawing room.”

North nodded, and as Jason made his way through the foyer, he thought he heard the sounds of a coach out front.

A few minutes later, North showed Lydia into the drawing room. She wore a long-sleeved ivory dress with a small floral pattern topped with a green bodice that drew his eye directly to her breasts. He immediately snapped his gaze upward lest he be caught staring. This meeting was not starting on the right note—not if he meant to keep his hands to himself. It was especially good then that she hadn’t come alone.

Alone
. He looked behind Lydia for her chaperone. “Where’s Mrs. Lloyd-Jones?”

Lydia wasn’t looking at him, she was studying the room. “She wasn’t feeling well, and when her sister—Miss Vining—also pleaded a headache, she sent a maid with me instead.”

“A maid?” he dumbly repeated as his body shot to awareness.

“She’s gone to the kitchen,” Lydia said, perhaps a touch shyly. She had yet to meet his eyes. Where was the brazen girl who’d traced her finger along his scar?

A maid in the kitchen wasn’t going to do a thing to protect Lydia’s reputation. “Is that all right, or would you prefer her to chaperone?”

Her gaze finally found his, and the edge of her mouth ticked up. “It’s all right. I suggested she have tea.”

He had the sense Lydia was nervous, so he sought to set her at ease. He extended a bow. “Welcome to Lockwood House,” he said, winking at her playfully, “again.”

“Thank you. Do you mind if I remove my bonnet?” Her fingers were already tugging the ribbons from beneath her chin. She pulled the hat from her lush blond curls and set it on a table near the doorway.

The look she gave him when she turned around was filled with trepidation. “I wanted to apologize for my aunt’s behavior at the dinner party. I admit I was worried you meant to cancel today’s tour, especially when I didn’t hear from you until so late yesterday.”