The Convenient Arrangement (24 page)

He squeezed her hands. “I hope not. I was just telling James here about the new breed of horses I've heard about in America and how we'll be sure to see them when we go there for our honeymoon.”

“We are going to America for our honeymoon?”

The other man looked uncomfortable, but Tilden merely smiled. “I had thought I had mentioned it. No matter. You know now, so you can make your plans.”

“I had thought there would be a discussion of our plans before a decision was made.”

When James slipped away into the crowd, Tilden's smile became a dismayed frown. “There was a discussion. You need only ask Mary or Mother if you choose not to believe me.”

“I didn't mean to suggest that I did not believe you. I had thought you would discuss our honeymoon plans with
me
.”

“Mother thought it would be better if it were a surprise.” He sighed. “And I have ruined that surprise, haven't I? Oh, well, now you can talk to Mother and Mary about where the three of you want to visit first.”

“Your mother and sister are joining us on the trip?”

“Certainly.” He grinned, and his handsome face lit up like one of the chandeliers. “And don't worry about the boy—Danny?”

“David.” She clenched her hands by her side.

“Don't worry about him. I've already arranged for him to go to school before the term begins.”

“School?”

“Mother said it would be for the best as we will be gone for so long.”

“How long?”

“No more than a year, I suspect.”

“You want me to leave David alone for a year?”

He smiled. “He shan't be alone at school. In addition, Mother believes you are spoiling the boy with all your attention to him.”

“Does she?” She dared say no more.

“She
is
more experienced in these matters, Valeria, as the mother of two. You would be wise to heed her as I always do.”

Before she could no longer control her temper, she excused herself to speak with her guest who was waiting for her. Why had she never seen how Tilden catered to his mother's wishes? The answer was simple. She had not spent enough time with him or his family before she agreed to be his wife. Now it was too late to back out of the marriage. Even if she could, she would have no choice but to marry Lord Caldwell. She did not have £8000.

Valeria faltered in midstep when she saw who was standing at the top of the stairs. Lord Caldwell had leapt from her fears back into her life. But why was he here? Not to congratulate her, she was sure, even though she had sent him a note telling him of her plans to marry Tilden. A quiver cramped her at the thought of her desperate agreement to marry Tilden. No, she would not think of that now. She had to discover why Lord Caldwell was here and convince him to take his leave immediately.

Lord Caldwell threw his cape back over his shoulder and glowered at her. “So how did you convince Moorsea to host a party amid this musty pile of stones? I hope it was not by warming his bed when you should be in mine.”

Her hand struck his cheek. When he recoiled, she hissed, “Don't ever say something like that to me again! Get out of here!”

“Not without you.”

“I'm not going with you.” She pointed to the door at, the bottom of the stairs. “Begone.”

“My money—”

“Has been delivered to your solicitor's office.”

He grasped her arm and pulled her into a nearby room. “What do you mean? You have no money.”

“But my fiancé does.”

“Fiancé? Moorsea? Don't think you can bamboozle me. What money he got with these dirty acres is already committed to fixing up the house.”

Valeria wanted to ask how he was privy to such information, but tried to free her arm. When he would not release her, she said, “I see you did not trouble yourself to read my missive to you.”

“What missive?”

“The one explaining that I am betrothed to Sir Tilden Oates. His pockets are plump enough to satisfy my brother's debts to you.”

“You will regret this decision, Valeria.”

“I would have regretted knuckling under to your ludicrous demands far more, my lord.” She yanked her arm away from him. “Do not let me delay you from taking your leave.”

Lord Caldwell raised his hand, but froze as he stared past her. With a curse, he lowered it again. “This is not over, Valeria.” He gave her no chance to retort as he stormed out of the room.

Valeria looked at the door on the other side of the room—the door the viscount had been facing. She was not surprised to see Lorenzo standing there.

Never had he looked more handsome, although he could not compare with Tilden's perfect looks. He wore his black evening coat over a light blue satin waistcoat and white breeches. Yet, she barely took note that, for once, he was in prime twig. Instead, she found herself caught by his gaze. Shy he might be, but mayhap that was simply because he feared releasing the strong passions that seared her. Tonight, he appeared to deserve his family's name, for, like a wolf, he possessed an aura of power and potential peril for anyone foolish enough to defy him.

The fury that tightened his face resonated through his voice as he said, “I came here as soon as I heard Caldwell had been allowed into Moorsea Manor. Are you all right, Valeria?”

“I think I shall be.” She wanted to rush to him and have his arms envelop her. She wanted to tell him that she was so grateful to him for always being here when she needed him, that she did not want to leave Moorsea Manor and him, that her dreams of the future no longer centered on her return to the whirl of the Season and the chatter of the
ton
. Her dreams were of loving him and the life they could have together. No, there was no life for them together, but that did not change the fact that, want-witted as it might be, she had fallen in love with him.

“He shan't bother you again. He knows he has lost this gamble to win your hand in marriage.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

“He will not linger here long when he has other prey with plump pockets waiting for him in London.”

Valeria flinched. Lorenzo's words reminded her of Lord Caldwell's. “He suggested that you were destitute, save for this house. If I had known that, I would not have asked you to take care of David and me.”

“Taking care of you and David has been my pleasure.” He offered his arm. “And don't fret. Caldwell has his facts essentially correct, but I'm not ready to don a green bonnet and put the key beneath the door yet. My uncle's investments were not always wise. However, I hope my decisions will turn that around.”

“I didn't know.” She glanced toward the ballroom. “You spent so much to give me this evening. I am even more grateful.”

“Then prove it by risking your toes.”

“My toes?”

He smiled. “Will you stand up with me?”

“You're asking me to dance? I didn't know you danced, Lorenzo.”

“I have tried to avoid dancing as with anything I do poorly.” Lorenzo's smile broadened as he looked over her head at the sound of a door slamming below. He would have to be sure that Caldwell did not return to cause more mischief. But first … “However, I have been told by several well-meaning matrons that you and I should dance before the official announcement of your betrothal to Oates is made.”

“By well-meaning matrons, I assume you mean Miss Urquhart,” she said with a smile that reached inside him and sent pinwheels twirling through his stomach.

“She is the most adamant among those kind ladies who have decided it is their place to remind me of mine.” He held out his hand. “So will you dance with me, Valeria?”

When she breathed yes, he swept her against him. Her eyes widened, and he laughed.

“I thought you meant in the ballroom,” she whispered as a waltz lilted along the hallway.

“Here,” he said as quietly, “I chance only stepping on your toes, not everyone's in the room.”

Her laugh was as lyrical as the music. Putting her hand in his, she leaned her head on his shoulder, shocking him. Surely propriety did not allow such intimacy. He forgot the canons of society as she had while he let the music guide his feet. The sensation of her so close, matching each step as if they had danced like this a thousand times before, was intoxicating, but his feet were nimble. Could his cousin Corey have been right when he said that with the right woman Lorenzo would not feel awkward? With the right woman in his arms, Corey had told him, dancing would be easier than breathing. That must be so, because he was dancing and he was finding it difficult to breathe when Valeria's soft form was in his arms.

“You are an excellent dancer,” she murmured. “I think you are doing yourself and the other ladies a great disfavor by lingering at the side of the room.”

“And you are being too kind. My usual pattern is a trip and a step on my partner's toes and another stumble.”

She smiled up at him, and his heart thundered in his ears, drowning out the orchestra's music. Yet his feet continued moving as if the melody was a part of him and of Valeria, curling around them, molding them together until each motion belonged inseparably to both of them.

“You haven't asked me what I shall miss most about Moorsea Manor,” she whispered.

“What?”

“I believe, I shall miss your sardonic sense of humor most of all.”

“Really?” He was unsure if he could say more than a single word as she spoke so easily of leaving Moorsea Manor to go live with Oates as his wife.

“Yes, really. It drove me almost to madness when we first met. I never was sure when you were hoaxing me and when you were serious.”

“I have told you. I am always serious.”

She laughed so brightly that heads in the doorway turned toward them. “Lorenzo, that is the funniest statement of all. At first, you convinced me to believe that, but you know as well as I that is not so.”

“No?” Did she have any idea how her eyes glistened with purple starlight each time she laughed? “Valeria, I may regret saying this, but—”

A scream rang from the ballroom.

Fifteen

The scream hung amid a discordant note as the orchestra froze along with the guests. Valeria pushed into the ballroom. If Lord Caldwell thought he could ruin tonight, she would show him he was sadly mistaken.

She scanned the room. He was not here. Then what was going on?

Mary Oates shrieked as she rushed across the room. She pointed back at the window, crying out something that Valeria could not understand. Reaching out to halt the terrified woman, Valeria was knocked backward as Mary ran toward Lorenzo and collapsed in a swoon.

He caught her before she could strike the floor and, putting an arm beneath her knees, lifted her up against his chest. “Oates, where are you?”

Valeria stepped aside before the baronet could run her down in the midst of this anxiety for his sister. She stood to one side while she watched Lorenzo hand the senseless Mary to her brother. When Tilden's knees almost buckled, she stared at Lorenzo. His strong heart and unabashed wit were not the only strengths he hid.

Another scream ricocheted through the room, and Valeria turned to see Mrs. Oates falling to the floor. Miss Urquhart rushed to her side and called out, “Burn some feathers! This woman is suffering from the vapors.”

“Is this your idea of a jest, Moorsea?”

She spun when she realized the furious words had been spoken by her betrothed. “Tilden! Lorenzo would not do anything to hurt your sister or mother. Why—”

“Look!” shouted a man near one of the windows. “There it is again!”

“There is what?” Lorenzo's long legs crossed the ballroom floor with ease, and Valeria hurried after him.

The man pointed. “Look! There, by the shrubs.”

Behind her, she heard a prayer and a screech and a thud as a maid crumpled to the floor. Valeria motioned for one of the footmen to tend to the girl, then tried to see past the people in front of her. Even her height was no help, because she was sure every man in the room had crowded in front of the window.

Tossing aside her manners, she elbowed her way through them. Her arm was grabbed, and she started to shake the hand off, then realized it was Lorenzo trying to help her through the press of the guests who were unwilling to give way. He tugged her forward around a man who was gasping as if he had run from London.

She pressed her hands to the glass and stared. It
was
a ghost! Just as the serving maids had been babbling about for the past month. No! She did not believe in ghosts. Lorenzo was right. They were just the product of moonlight and moonshine minds.

“It's a ghost,” choked a woman beside her.

She wanted to retort with, “Nonsense!” Her voice was clogged in her throat as she stared at what looked to be an ancient warrior. His breastplate gleamed in the moonlight as if it had a life of its own. A grotesque mimicry of a man's face glowed as well, and something came out of its head, shining as if it was lit from beneath.

Another woman swooned against Valeria. She caught the woman and lowered her to the floor, calling for
sal volatile
. She hoped the horrified guests would let a footman through to the woman.

Standing, she asked, “Lorenzo, what do you think—?”

He had vanished. Irrational fear clutched her. A ghost was here, and Lorenzo had disappeared. She shook the terror aside and pushed her way back through the crowd. They did not halt her.

“A ghost! It's a ghost,” cried someone else behind her.

Valeria raised her voice. “I assure you it's not another ghost.”

Tilden crossed the room to her, his eyes so wide that she thought they would burst from his face. “
Another ghost?
Do you mean there have been others lately here in Moorsea Manor? You let me bring my mother and sister here knowing that?”

“Don't be silly. Someone is enacting a heinous prank tonight.”