Once an Heiress (13 page)

He chanced a glance at Lily, careful to keep his eyes above her décolletage. She gave him a small, nervous smile. She was amongst almost perfect strangers. Ethan was the only one with whom she had any rapport whatsoever. As dangerous as it was for him to allow his attention to focus on her, he felt duty-bound to ensure her comfort for the duration of the carriage ride.

It occurred to Ethan that Vauxhall Gardens was an eccentric choice for a family outing. The draw of such a place to an older couple such as the Bachmans eluded him. His tongue flicked over his lips. “Ah, Miss Bachman. Just to be clear, you are also going to — ”

“Yes, she is.” Ghita pasted a bright smile on her face, but it seemed to Ethan more a baring of her fangs.

“My father will meet me there,” Lily confirmed. “But since going was Mother’s idea to begin with, we likely won’t stay long. Neither he nor I have patience for these things.”

Ah. That sounded more like what Ethan knew of the staid Mr. Bachman and his equally redoubtable offspring.

“It might be pleasant.”

She turned to regard him. Since he’d forbidden his gaze to wander south, he searched her face, taking note of every feature. Sooty lashes framed her rich brown eyes. The tip of her nose turned up ever so slightly, suggesting the pert personality within.

Color rose in her cheeks as he watched, her lips parting a fraction. His fingers twitched, tempted to touch that plum mouth.

Ethan felt the heat beginning to mount between them.
Blast it, this isn’t working, either.
He couldn’t look even at her face without becoming aroused. He tore his eyes away and scowled at the window. As the shade was now drawn, this exercise provided little satisfaction.

Ghita’s mocking voice cut through the heavy silence. “I hear you have many admirers, Miss Bachman.”

Lily’s eyes went wide. “Well, I … ”

Quillan snorted. “With a dowry like yours, I’m surprised there isn’t a mob outside your door.”

Ethan cringed. It was rude to mention Lily’s dowry to her face. Ghita had no compunction about shocking people, but Quillan should know better.

She ducked her head. “There aren’t really all that many — ”

“Come now,” Ghita cut in. “Tell us who you prefer.” She waved her hands theatrically. “With so many gentlemen to choose from, there must be
someone
who captures your eye.” She leaned forward as though offering her confidence, but a subtle twist of her torso displayed her cleavage to Ethan — a pointed reminder of where his attention was supposed to lay.

Unfortunately for her, there was no comparison in that regard. With the appraising eye of a connoisseur, Ethan found Lily’s pillowy bosom much more to his liking.

Laying a hand on Lily’s, Ghita pressed her offensive. “You must tell me. It is all the talk, is it not?” She glanced over her shoulder at Quillan.

He grunted in affirmation. “The book at White’s is brimming with entries betting on the identity of the lucky man.”

Lily gasped, horror spelled out across her face. The color in her cheeks drained away. Ethan ground his teeth, his patience with his friends coming to a rapid end.

“Fortunes to be won and lost, all because of your marriage.” Ghita clucked her tongue. Her eyes narrowed and her fingers tightened into a white-knuckled grip on Lily’s hand. She already regarded the other woman as a rival, and poor Lily had no idea. It ran afoul of Ethan’s intrinsic sense of fair play. “So do be a good girl and tell us — ”

“It’s a damned bloody nuisance, is what it is,” Ethan snapped, surprised at his own vehemence. “Pardon my mouth, ladies.”

Lily’s startled eyes flew to his, full of gratitude. “Yes, it is.” The smile she gave him conveyed an appreciation for his understanding.

He cursed to himself. There it was again — the way she looked at him as though she saw someone admirable, someone worthy of respect. Were they not in a closed carriage, he might have thought she was looking at a man behind him, because he was surely not deserving of her approbation.

Maybe you could be.
The intrusive thought sprang from somewhere deep inside, from the same deluded portion of his mind that wanted to restore his family’s good name after the muck his father had made of it. It took up residence alongside all the other dreams that had no hope of coming to fruition. They were a pitiful lot, those dreams, mostly keeping quiet but sometimes piping up like a bunch of beggars on the church steps. And like the actual beggars who had shocked and saddened him when he’d first come to town, Ethan had learned to ignore them, refusing to listen to their weak suggestions that he could be better than he was.

Still, right now, at this moment, Lily Bachman needed someone to stand with her against Quillan and Ghita. It wouldn’t hurt anything if — just for the duration of the ride, of course — he played the knight errant coming to his lady’s rescue. It wasn’t much of a rescue, anyway; he just had to steer the conversation elsewhere.

He thought fast for something to say, and nabbed the first coherent thought that wandered past his tongue.

“Along the lines of dowries and marriage and the like,” he said, drawing the attention of his companions, “there are island tribes which use whale’s teeth as a bride-price.”

For a moment, everyone stared at him — Ghita with a perplexed crease in her brow, Quillan with a bored expression, and Lily, blessedly, with a look of relief.

Her gaze cut to the other pair, then skittered back to Ethan. “They use the teeth as money, you mean?”

Ethan cleared his throat, happy to declaim on the topic if it kept Ghita’s venom in her fangs. “Not in the conventional sense, no. I believe the teeth are only for particular ceremonial purposes.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Lily stated. “Can you imagine using whale’s teeth for coinage? How big they must be! I don’t suppose I could carry more than one or two in my reticule.”

“What difficulties that would present the fashionable lady,” Ethan mused. “I can envision a stream of women heading to the shops with great sacks full of enormous teeth.”

Lily laughed, her eyes dancing with amusement. She shook her head. “No, no, it wouldn’t come to that. The fashionable lady would still proceed at a sedate stroll, unencumbered by her weighty currency. But her footman would have to follow behind with a dogcart full of pin money.”

Ethan chuckled at the silly image. Lily’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. She settled back against her seat, no longer unnerved. He was glad of it. Though his acquaintance with her was still new, he’d detected that Miss Bachman did not do well in situations beyond her ken. This was a woman who needed to feel in control of things. Helping her find her footing in present company was the least he could do.

Ghita’s large eyes tightened at the corners as she looked back and forth between them. She smiled nervously. “H-how much would items cost in whale’s teeth?” The uncustomary stammer caught Ethan’s notice. The unflappable Queen of Her Domain was struggling against another formidable female. For the first time in his recollection, Ghita was in the company of a woman who surpassed her in both station and intellect. Both women were beautiful, as well — Ghita fair and willowy, Lily dark and curvaceous. As looks went, it came down only to the observer’s preference. And Ghita knew it.

Her hands waved in an agitated gesture. “What would they be worth? It’s so ridiculous, this notion.”

Lily’s full lips quirked. “They’d be worth their weight in pearls, of course.”

“And you could rub pearls against your pocket money to tell the real from false,” Ethan pointed out.

“Save your own teeth.” Lily bit her bottom lip as a bubble of mirth slipped out.

Quillan cracked a smile and joined in. He grinned and nodded at Ethan. “You, for one, should be on your knees thanking God England’s not on the whale tooth standard.”

Ethan’s shoulders jostled with another laugh. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“With your debts,” Quillan deadpanned, “you’d have to take up whaling full-time.”

Beside him, Lily gasped and stiffened a split second before a whoop of laughter tore from his throat. He felt her eyes on him, and she joined him in laughing at his own miserable finances.

The playful banter lasted the duration of the carriage ride. Miss Bachman made her fair share of witty remarks, engaging both the gentlemen with her repartee. It seemed there was more to Lily Bachman’s fabled tongue than biting insults.

For her part, Ghita sank into her seat and glowered at the others. It occurred to Ethan that the puns and word play they were engaging in exceeded her grasp of the language. The arch looks she cast in Lily’s direction were especially vitriolic, but Miss Bachman appeared too caught up in the jovial conversation to notice.

When the carriage drew to a halt, Lily sniffed and dabbed the corners of her eyes. “Thank you so much for the conveyance, my lord.” She nodded to Quillan. “It was most obliging of you.” She cast an easy smile around to the other occupants of the carriage.

Ghita’s jaw worked in a smirk, as though she held a trump in her hand. Ethan wondered at this until the footman opened the door. Ethan stepped down and offered his hand to Lily.

Her fingers were warm and firm against his. He noticed a hint of color rising in her cheeks. Then her gaze rose, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She gasped.

Ethan turned, thinking to see some kind of disaster underway — a roaring conflagration, perhaps. Instead, he saw only the colonnaded entrance to the gardens.

“Vauxhall Gardens?” Confusion clouded Lily’s features and she turned wide eyes on Ethan. “I’m supposed to be at the Ainsley’s ball.”

Behind her, Ghita disembarked from the carriage and took several sauntering steps. “Is that so?” She tsked and pressed a hand to her cheek. “I must have misunderstood.” She took Quillan’s arm and headed for their seats.

The hard glint in her eye betrayed the pretense. Simmering anger built at the base of Ethan’s spine. She had duped Lily into coming to Vauxhall, unaccompanied by a proper chaperone and without the consent of her parents.

“I’m terribly sorry.” He touched Lily’s elbow to guide her back to the carriage. “I’ll have the driver take you to your ball.”

Her lips parted as she roved his face with those chocolate-rich eyes. Ethan’s thumb stroked her arm, heedless of his mind’s insistence that he release her from his grasp.

Lily’s eyes slid over his shoulder as she took in the entrance to the gardens. “No,” she murmured. She shook her head; her eyes cut back to his and she smiled. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’d like to stay.” Her gaze went sultry, though the quirk of her lips betrayed her nerves. An intriguing dichotomy.

Ethan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He had to strangle out an objection, marshaling every last scrap of scruples remaining to his immoral soul. “I must insist you return to your father. It would be improper — ”

Her eyes — soft and inviting only a second before — narrowed. “And just who are you to insist I do anything, my lord? Do you speak to all women so masterfully? I’m not one of your milksop aristocratic females. I am not dictated to. By anyone.”

Ethan felt himself knocked back by her sudden change of demeanor. “I’m not dictating to you, you silly twit. Don’t you have a care for — ”

“What I don’t care for is the tone you are taking.” Her hands planted on her hips, but Ethan noticed the hurt tone in her voice. “Really, to resort to name calling … ” She whirled away from him. Her hand went to her face, and her shoulders shook.

Oh, God, he’d made her cry. Ethan’s eyes squeezed together. Could this night get any worse? He hadn’t meant to call her a twit; she had a way of getting under his skin faster than any female he’d ever known. He reached out for her shoulder. “Please, Miss Bachman — ” She jerked away and made a sniffling sound. His male instinct to stop the crying at all costs kicked into action. Before he knew he’d reached into his pocket, he was pressing a handkerchief into her hand. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw curious gazes aimed in their direction from other new arrivals. “Miss Bachman,” he whispered, “I’m sure you don’t wish to cause a commotion. People are starting to notice — ”

“You’re the one causing a commotion,” she shot back. “Just take me to Lord Umberton’s seats and stop harassing me!” A louder wail rose in the air.

Exasperated and nearing panic, Ethan thrust his arm out to her. “All right,” he hissed. Her hand settled on his sleeve and he led her into the throng funneling toward the dinner theater. Almost immediately, her sniffling stopped, and blissful relief washed through Ethan, draining away his agitation. A moment later, he glanced at her. She turned a triumphant smirk up at him, no evidence of a crying fit anywhere on her features. Hot breath whooshed from his nostrils as he realized he’d been played for a fool. “I congratulate you,” he snipped. “That was quite a performance.”

Her brow arched as she nodded, accepting his comment as a compliment, much to his annoyance. “As I said, my lord, I am not dictated to. Not even by you.”

Ethan stopped dead in his tracks. Lily sailed on without him, leaving Ethan to stare after her swaying hips and lush derrière and, eventually, to follow in her wake.

Lord Umberton poured Lily another glass of wine. It was her third already, and the meal was not yet over. As she sipped the rich, red liquid, she glanced over the rim to where Thorburn sat across the table from her, fork and knife clenched in a white-knuckled grip. She frowned at his tense demeanor — where was the man she’d seen in the carriage, who had made her laugh until her ribs ached and she could scarcely breathe?

It was
that
man with whom she’d decided to spend her evening, not the brooding presence lurking in the supper box like he was maintaining a deathbed vigil. For once in her rigidly structured life, Lily wanted to cut loose and have
fun
, and Thorburn’s change in mood was spoiling her plan. She watched him mechanically chew and swallow a bite of the thin, buttery ham as if he hadn’t even tasted it.

For herself, Lily was in bliss. The first bite melted against her tongue and she’d savored every one since. The atmosphere left nothing to be desired. Entertainment provided by a band of musicians filled the air, and the twinkling lights of the thousands of lanterns hanging from the trees lining the nearby walks lent a magical ambiance to the surroundings. Lily glimpsed shadowy pavilions and pagodas in the distance. Other groups were already descending from their boxes to go explore. Her feet itched to join them.