The Lady In Question (22 page)

Was it the duke’s fault, then? Had His Grace intentionally planted the idea of marriage in Tony’s mind? He wouldn’t put it at all past him, given his annoyance at having his niece involved in the first place. Probably his way of enacting revenge. The man was indeed diabolical.

No, it wasn’t the duke’s fault. Nor was it Delia’s or her sister’s or anyone’s fault, really. Blame it all on fate, perhaps, and the strange sequence of events that had begun half a year ago with Wilmont and taken them all to this point. The plain and simple fact was that he had indeed fallen in love with the woman he was deceiving and, more, wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. A life she might well cut short when she knew the truth. She was probably as diabolical as her uncle. Just look at the convoluted, and fairly successful, plan she and her sister had cooked up for tonight. Diabolical no doubt ran in their blood.

There was no good way out of this mess. Confession on his part could well lead to murder on hers. The duke expected Tony to do the honorable thing if his ruse was made public, and while Tony was willing, he would wager his entire fortune Delia would not be. Now that she had wealth and independence, Tony didn’t doubt for a moment she would not be at all inclined to do anything she didn’t wish to do.

And she wished to become an experienced woman, not a wife.

Still, in spite of her intentions, he was confident she was not the sort of woman who could indulge in the carnal aspects of
experience
without involving her emotions as well. If he helped her achieve her objective, with a bit of luck, when the time came to tell her the truth she would be as in love with him as he was with her.

By God, that was the answer. He would mount a campaign for her heart that would indeed rival Wellington’s quest to defeat Napoleon. As reluctant as he was to admit that she had worked her way into his heart, he did love her and he didn’t want to lose her. He could easily see how Wilmont might have loved her as well.

Still…He straightened at the thought. She had not loved Wilmont. She had said as much tonight. If that was true, then it stood to reason she had not married him because she wanted to, but because she had to. Because Wilmont had ruined her and she saw no other choice. Tony had already concluded there was at the very least the possibility of affection on Wilmont’s side, but now he wondered which had come first: the seduction or the emotion.

If Delia wasn’t mourning the man she loved, there might well be room in her heart for Tony. Abruptly, the murmur of voices in the library grew louder and Tony moved away from the door. A moment later the door opened and Delia and her sister stepped into the entry. Miss Effington cast him a pleasant smile. “So nice to see you, Gordon. I trust you are feeling better?”

“I am, miss. Thank you for asking,” Tony said politely.

Delia’s brows drew together. “What are you talking about? Are you ill?”

“One of the other servants informed me Gordon was not feeling well and had taken to his bed. I didn’

t see him at all this evening.” Miss Effington studied him carefully and he couldn’t help but wonder if she believed his story or considered him some kind of slacker.

“Oh, dear.” Delia turned a worried gaze toward him. “Are you all right? Should you be up and about?”

“I am quite well, ma’am. It was nothing at all.” His voice was firm. “No doubt something I ate.”

“I did think the food had vastly improved,” she murmured, studying him far too closely for comfort.

“Very well, then, if you’re sure.” Delia turned toward her sister. “Thank you again. If you need me —”

“Oh, I shan’t need you.” Miss Effington grinned. “I can handle Mother. In truth, I rather look forward to it. Besides, the thrill of being the good sister has worn rather thin.”

“I thought it would,” Delia said wryly.

A few moments later, Miss Effington took her leave.

“Did the” — he cleared his throat —
“evening
go well, ma’am?”

“The evening was not without its merits.” Delia crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t approve, do you?”

“It’s not my place to approve or disapprove, my lady.”

“I see.” Delia’s voice was thoughtful. She turned and headed toward the library. “Would you care to join me for a brandy and a game, Gordon? I am far too restless to sleep. Brandy and losing a game or two to you should do the trick.”

“As you wish.” Tony stepped to the door, pulled it open an instant before she reached it, congratulated himself on his timing and followed her into the room. She headed toward the backgammon table, while he proceeded to the liquor cabinet. He poured them each a glass, then joined her at the table. She sipped the brandy he’d handed her absently. They started the game in relative silence and continued through one long move after another. For a woman who claimed to be too restless to sleep, she was unusually subdued and it was damnably irritating. Indeed, she’d been uncharacteristically quiet ever since she’d returned to London. In his role as Gordon, Tony thought he had mastered the art of patience, and up to now he had not pressed her for her thoughts, but apparently his patience had a limit.

“Have I offended you in some way, Lady Wilmont?” He forced an offhand note to his voice.

“Other than the fact that you have thoroughly trounced me every night for the last three? Why, no.”

Delia studied the backgammon table. “Why do you ask?”

“You have been remarkably quiet since your return from the country, and remarkably quiet tonight as well.”

“I thought you preferred silence when you played.”

“Silence from you, my lady, is more disturbing than noise.”

She glanced up at him. “Forgive me, Gordon, my mind has been occupied with other concerns of late.”

“Forgive
me
, my lady, if I overstep my bounds.”

“Not at all,” she said firmly. “I have already given you leave to speak your mind. I do not intend to renege on that now simply because I am preoccupied.”

“Might I be so forward as to ask if something happened while you were at Effington Hall? Or perhaps tonight?”

“Any number of things happened at Effington Hall.” She sipped her drink thoughtfully. “I discovered my family was not nearly as upset with me over my marriage and the scandal it aroused as I was myself. Indeed, I discovered the scandal itself was not as great as I had believed. Odd, don’t you think?”

“Not in the least. We are all the leading characters in our own dramas.”

“I suppose we are. How terribly astute of you, Gordon.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He bit back a smile. “Astute is something I strive for.”

She laughed, and it was good to hear.

“Gordon,” she said slowly, still pondering her next move. “Do you recall when you said I should find a husband and I said I was not especially interested in finding a husband?”

“Quite clearly.”

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t know that I want another husband. I’m not ruling it out completely, but I’m not sure I want to leap into another marriage. At least not yet. However, I find it’s dreadfully lonely to live by oneself. What I do think I want…well…that is…”

“Yes?” he prompted.

“A man, Gordon.” She heaved a resigned sigh. “I should very much like a man in my life.”

“A certain man in particular, ma’am, or will any man do?”

“I do have a man in mind. Most definitely.” She laughed an odd, soft sort of laugh, as if she weren’t sure if what she was about to say was amusing or upsetting. “And I think — no, I know he has me in mind as well.”

“And this distresses you?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “No. It’s really rather wonderful. He’s really rather wonderful.”

“I see.” He nodded thoughtfully.

“Then would you be so good as to explain it to me?”

“You are troubled because you have feelings for this man and your husband has not yet been dead a year.”

“Guilt, then, you think?” She sat back in her chair and stared. “That’s very good, Gordon. Even, dare I say, astute? I may well be feeling a bit of guilt, but…” She paused for a long moment. “My marriage was a horrible mistake. I scarcely knew my husband.”

“And you don’t wish to make the same mistake again?”

“Good God, no.” She downed the brandy in her glass, set it on the table with a thunk and leaned forward. “I absolutely will not make another such dreadful mistake. I refuse to. After all, marriage is a permanent state. And one cannot count on one’s husband conveniently dying so soon after the wedding.”

Her eyes widened and she gasped in shock at her own words.

“I didn’t mean…that is, I never…oh, dear.” She buried her face in her hands. “I am a loathsome person.”

Tony stood, fetched the brandy decanter and returned to his seat. “I would say, ma’am, you are not unusual.”

“Hah.” She groaned, her face still hidden in her hands. “Then the world is full of loathsome people.”

“I suspect everyone has some unpleasant qualities on occasion,” he said mildly, refilling her glass.

“And much of it is relative. What one thinks is, oh, say, dishonorable, someone else might see as a necessary evil. In service to one’s country or something like that.”

She raised her head and stared in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“A random thought, my lady, nothing more.” He handed her the glass.

“I’ve always thought of myself as a rather nice sort of person. It’s most distressing to realize I was wrong.” She shook her head and took a long, bracing sip. “I can’t believe I said such a thing. I can’t believe I even thought such a thing. What kind of woman thinks things like that?”

A woman who had not loved the man she’d married.

“A loathsome woman.” She aimed her glass at him pointedly. “That’s who.”

“Not at all. A
young
woman says such things, my lady,” he said firmly. “A young woman who finds herself in an untenable situation with no means of escape.”

“But I certainly did not wish him dead!”

“Of course not.” He studied her carefully. “However, it is the nature of mankind to see the benefits inherent in even the worst of circumstances.”

She wrinkled her nose. “More astute philosophy, Gordon?”

“One does what one can.” As informative as this discussion was, it was not precisely what he wanted.

“Might I ask what all this has to do with the current gentleman in question?”

“The current gentleman in question is…” She paused for a long moment to choose her words or perhaps sort her thoughts. Tony held his breath. “As much as I fear making another mistake with my life, as much as I realize that, in truth, I don’t know him even as much as I knew my husband when I went —

when I married him, it feels as if I know him very well.”

She rested her elbow on the table, disregarding the playing pieces, and propped her chin in her free hand. “I don’t know what it is, Gordon, but he seems remarkably familiar. Something in the way he stands, perhaps — he is exceedingly tall.”

Without thinking, Tony slumped slightly in his chair.

“It’s the timbre of his voice, or maybe the intonation of his words.”

“Indeed,” he said, his voice a shade deeper than before.

“Or possibly the look in his eye. His eyes are the darkest shade of brown I’ve ever seen. Similar to yours,” she said thoughtfully. “Although yours are difficult to see behind your spectacles.”

“An unfortunate aspect of age, I’m afraid.” Tony sent a silent prayer heavenward in thanks to whatever bit of foresight had had him add glasses to the rest of his ensemble. She swirled the brandy in her glass. “And when we speak together, it feels strangely as though we have spoken before. Long, intimate conversations. I know we’ve never even met. Still…” She sighed. “It is both disconcerting and quite nice.”

The last thing he wanted was for her to dwell on why he seemed so familiar and discover the truth on her own. It would be bad enough when he told her, but at least he would be in control of the situation. There was nothing worse in his experience than unexpected revelation.

“There are those in the world,” he said thoughtfully, “who believe one’s soul never dies. That it is reborn over and over and that we live our lives again and again.”

“Reincarnation.” She nodded. “My mother has spoken of it. It’s one of the many things she believes in.”

“It claims those we know in this life we have known before and will know again. It is said to be why people we have never met sometimes seem so familiar.”

“Because we’ve known them in another life? I’ve never given it much consideration before, but it’s a lovely idea. Then those we love in this life…”

“We have loved before.”

“How terribly romantic. Fated to be together through all eternity. Although I suppose you could also be destined to make the same mistakes over and over.”

“As I understand it, in each new life, one has the opportunity to atone for the sins of the past.”

“That certainly is good to hear.” She flashed him a grin. “Still, it does take something of the fun out of it all, don’t you think? I mean, if everyone we meet is someone we’ve met before, someone we are intended to meet, it takes a bit of adventure out of life.”

“Adventure may well be what we make it, ma’am.”

She laughed. “You do lift my spirits, Gordon.”

“Then my work this evening is done,” he said lightly. He quite liked lifting her spirits, even if he did so as her butler rather than himself. He liked the way she listened to him and the way she looked at him as if he had all the answers to all the questions of life. Once again, he felt the oddest twinge of jealously toward “Gordon.”

“Now then, answer me one more thing.”

“I shall do my best.”

“Disregarding the whole idea that the gentleman and I might have met at a previous point here on earth, at this particular moment in time I need to find a way to explain to him…well…” She wrinkled her nose.