As You Wish Page 14

  He meant to offer her the reprove she deserved for teasing him but could not resist returning her grin. “Minx. Can I escort you downstairs?”

  “Please.” She joined him in the hall, closing and locking the door. But as they began walking, she stopped again. “Wait. I want to take care of something while we’re alone.”

  She reached into her reticule and removed a gold guinea, holding the coin out to him. “Please put this toward the bill for the inn. I’m sorry I can’t give you more. Unfortunately, this is all the money I have.”

  He frowned. “I cannot take that coin. First of all, a guinea far exceeds your reckoning for the inn. Truly, you ought to familiarize yourself with English money. Secondly, Solebury has provided financing for us, since we’ve undertaken this journey in his stead.”

  “Oh.” She looked at the guinea and back at him. “Well, would you be willing to hold this for me? I, uh . . . don’t quite feel safe traveling with money on my person.”

  He judged her proposal a wise one, given her lack of understanding for the monetary system. “Certainly. Shall I write you a note of receipt?”

  She broke into a grin, waving off his offer. “Just take the damned thing, so we can go to breakfast.”

  Her swearing surprised him. But as he accepted the coin, he recalled how oddly she had behaved when Phoebe returned the guinea they’d found in her pocket--this same guinea, no doubt. He glanced at it, frowning. “Why does this coin upset you?”

  The grin on her face faded, replaced by a wary look. “It’s the one I told you about--the one I threw into the spring.”

  “The what?” He thought back and grimaced when he remembered what she had said. “The one you claim you used to make your ‘inadvertent wish’?”

  She looked down at the floor. “Yes.”

  “Your story makes no sense, Leah. If you threw this into the spring, how could you still have it to give to me?”

  “I did throw it in, twice. Once right before my transport and again the other night when I tried to go back. Both times, the coin ended up in my pocket again.”

  He shook his head. “The truth is obvious to me. You never threw this coin in the water. You dreamed the whole episode--imagined traveling through time.”

  “And dreamed up a whole lifetime of experiences?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “David, the things I could tell you about--”

  “I don’t want to hear them.”

  She stared at him, lips parted slightly, as though she was deliberating whether to continue arguing. At last, she spoke, her voice quiet. “You won’t even listen to me?”

  He felt his resolve weaken dangerously, but he refused to encourage her. Fixing a glare on her, he said, “No, I will not listen to nonsense.”

  Her lower lip quivered, forcing his gaze to her mouth. Again, his will faltered. Privately, he longed to still that lip with kisses, to hold her body against his and tell her she had no need for false memories. He wanted to assure her he would protect her from whatever had hurt her in her true past.

  But what kind of protection could he give her? He lacked the financial means to offer her marriage. Marriage! How dared he even think of entering that blessed state with her? Wedding a bastard would only open up a whole new realm of problems for her.

  He clenched his fists, infuriated by his own inadequacies. “Are you coming to breakfast with me or not?”

  She jumped, and he regretted how sharply he had spoken. But before he could even think to apologize, she rallied and lifted her chin.

  “Nice of you to offer to escort someone full of nonsense. But, thank you all the same, I prefer to find my own way.” She turned away from him and stalked down the hall.

  Her show of vexation startled him. Did she actually expect him to acknowledge her Banbury tales? If so, he had made no progress in convincing her to face reality.

  Spirits sinking, he walked downstairs to the dining hall and found her already seated with the viscount and his wife. He joined them, receiving a warm welcome from Lord and Lady Langston and a mere nod from Leah. Throughout the meal, she barely spoke a word to him, favoring the Langstons with all her conversation, except when a direct question forced her to respond to David.

  When they left the inn, the weather had turned fine, but she declined his invitation to ride with him on the box. All during the seemingly endless journey, he waited for her to poke her head out the window and quiz him about the scenery or his driving. Instead, she remained properly inside up to the moment they reached the Langstons’ town house.

  As the viscount and viscountess allotted tasks to the army of servants waiting in the front hall, David watched Leah climb the grand staircase behind a footman who carried her portmanteau.

  When she disappeared above, he shrugged to himself and turned away from the stairs. As soon as his hosts had finished addressing the staff, he stepped up and informed them he intended to seek out William.

  “So soon?” Her ladyship’s eyebrows rose. “You might at least take the time to change out of those dusty traveling clothes. We are in no hurry to be rid of you, you know, dear. Quite the contrary.”

  An unaccustomed warmth suffused his face. Throughout his adult life, he had avoided contact with friends of his father’s, never dreaming to gain acceptance from society’s exalted ranks. The kindness of the Langstons astonished him.

  “Thank you, my lady,” he sputtered, “but I may as well have done with the confrontation.”

  Lord Langston’s brow furrowed. “Perhaps the meeting need not be a confrontation, son. A diplomatic approach could do much to aid your case.”

  “Solebury’s case, you mean.” He tried to smile but suspected he only achieved a smirk. “And I fear I am not much of a diplomat.” His dealings with Leah proved that.

  Lady Langston rested an index finger against her chin, apparently devising her own strategy. She looked to her husband and asked, “Why don’t we invite William to dinner this evening? Rather than David’s striding into the boy’s quarters as though hunting him down, we shall treat him as a guest. Once we have softened him up with food and wine, we may be able to convince him to return to Solebury House of his own accord.”

  The viscount nodded. “Yes. Let his father take on the task of reforming him. We need only get him home.”

  “A splendid idea,” David said, “and I appreciate your effort to save me an unpleasant duty. But from what I have heard, William keeps a full social calendar. Even if he is free, he is unlikely to accept an invitation to see me.”

  “He has not visited his godparents in quite some time, either, dear.” Lady Langston smiled. “Allow me to issue the invitation. How can he turn down the opportunity to dine with his godparents and his brother?”

  “Half brother.” David remained unconvinced, but he lacked any will to argue for visiting William on his own. “But you may try if you like.”

  She beamed at him, immediately setting about dispatching a footman to William’s bachelor quarters. To David’s amazement, the servant returned with an affirmative reply. William had previous plans for the evening but could easily postpone them until after dinner. He would be pleased to attend his godparents and his brother.

  * * * *

  “Viscount Traymore,” the butler at Langston House announced, bowing his way out of the drawing room as William strode through the open double doors.

  The young lord brushed an invisible speck from his well-tailored coat, somehow tilting his aquiline nose upward even as he looked down at the impeccable blue superfine.

  Peacock, David thought, scarcely able to credit they shared paternal lineage. Certainly, if he had desired evidence of their kinship, he would have had to look beyond the lad’s baby blue eyes and straw-colored locks. But he made no such search. During childhood, William had impressed him as a brat, and by all accounts, he had never outgrown the label.

  Though the viscount had not occupied the same room as his half brother for years, he took in David with the same ricocheting glance he afforded the
furniture. Indeed, for a moment, a plush recamier positioned off to the side won the majority of his notice. He flopped down on the seat, peering out an adjacent window at the street below. “My godparents are still making their toilette, I presume?”

  David remained sitting across the room, undecided how much courtesy he wanted to extend his ill-mannered sibling. As he watched Lord William stretch one long leg across the cushions of the recamier, he curled his lip. “You presume correctly. Kind of you to accept Lady Langston’s dinner invitation.”

  “Not much else to do this time of the evening, and her ladyship contends I am overdue for a call. I must say I was deuced surprised to learn you were staying here.” He continued watching out the window, his wonder apparently not sufficient enough to warrant eye contact with his brother.

  David made no answer, and silence loomed between the two men till the sound of approaching footsteps echoed in the hall. Both looked toward the doors as a youthful parlor maid entered and curtsied deeply.

  “Beg pardon, sirs,” she said in a voice that squeaked with timidity. “Is there anything you require?”

  Lord William swept an assessing leer over her trim figure, ending with a grin and a wink. “I can think of several intriguing possibilities. But, for now, a good measure of Langston’s brandy would not go amiss. And bring one for my esteemed brother, will you, love?”

  Her cheeks flushed and she dropped her gaze. “Certainly, my lord.” She bobbed a second curtsy and scurried to the doors, bumping into the jamb in her haste to exit.

  William laughed. “Grace as well as beauty!”

  The maid flushed and lowered her head, ducking quickly out of the room.

  “Well done,” David said in a low tone. “Count yourself fortunate if she returns with your brandy at all.”

  “Seemed to me she hopped to do my bidding.” Heedless of his brother’s glower, the viscount reached into his coat and pulled out an enameled snuff box. He held the trinket out in David’s general direction, lifting his eyebrows in a mute question.

  When David only glared, he shrugged, took a pinch, and put away the box. “I understand you have been rusticating at Solebury House this past sennight.”

  The youth’s insouciance outstripped even David’s scant expectations for him. He restrained an urge to grab the little rogue by the high points of his collar and shake him. “I stayed at the gate house, not at the manor, and only for a few nights.”

  “A day or two with the newlyweds is enough for anyone.” William scratched at one of his long sideburns, gazing back out the window. “Wise of you to escape quickly, what with our lovely stepmama nearing confinement. A squalling babe should add charm to the household. You won’t be returning soon, I gather?”

  Though the young man avoided looking his way, a certain heightening of his tone led David to believe him more interested than he cared to reveal.

  “Actually, I will likely set off for Solebury House again tomorrow.”

  At last he had the viscount’s full attention, even eliciting a narrowing of William’s childlike eyes. “Finally decided the old man’s worth something to you, eh? Well, if your pockets are to let as badly as mine, I cannot fault you. I may have to make a visit to Kent soon myself.”

  “I seek no money from the marquess. You may rest easy on that score.”

  William now eyed him with open curiosity. “Then what could possibly keep you at Solebury House?”

  The sound of footsteps in the hall again drew their notice toward the doors. But instead of the little parlor maid, Leah stepped over the threshold, resplendent in an emerald green gown that magnificently complemented her hair and eyes. Her gaze went straight to David, and she crossed her arms over her chest, unwittingly accentuating a revealing decolletage.

  “David.” She pursed her lips, apparently not noticing William at his post by the window. “Well, I guess sooner or later we had to be alone together again. Should we risk trying to hold a conversation, or would we do better without words?”

  The saucy pout she gave him made him wonder if she offered kissing as an alternative to conversing.

  A low whistle sounded from the recamier, perhaps indicating the same thought had crossed William’s mind. Before David could think how to respond, his brother rose, sauntering to the center of the drawing room.

  “Allow me to save you the inconvenience of any tête-à-tête you don’t desire, madam.”

  She started, letting her arms drop to her sides.

  David got up, dragging himself forth for the hapless task of introducing her to the knave. “Miss Cantrell, allow me to present Viscount Traymore. William, Miss Leah Cantrell.”

  “A pleasure indeed.” He scooped up her hand, bowing low to brush his lips over her knuckles--a gesture that made David ball his fists. “How is it I have never met you before, Miss Cantrell? And you and my brother are on such intimate terms. I noticed you employed his given name.”

  David realized he should have offered background in the introductions, but he found himself loathe to reveal the least detail about Leah to his half brother. He had no desire to share the acquaintance with the jackanapes. Since some explanation seemed in order, he said, “Miss Cantrell has been staying at Solebury House.”

  “Ah, at Solebury House. I see.” William slid him a cunning grin, then looked back to Leah. “I was just telling my brother I mean to visit Solebury soon.”

  “Really?” She darted a wondrous glance at David and looked back to the viscount with added sparkle in her eyes. “What a surprise. I mean, I’m sure your father will be pleased.”

  “You flatter me, Miss Cantrell.” He flashed her a brilliant smile, the one attribute in which he most closely resembled his father. “Will you be returning to Kent with my brother?”

  “I expect so.” She glanced at David as though she thought he might contradict her, but he simply returned her gaze.

  “Indeed?” William’s grin widened. “How merry you must all be with such a party staying at the estate. I shall have to make arrangements to join you as soon as possible. Perhaps I may even be able to reschedule a few appointments and depart with you tomorrow.”

  David clenched his teeth, noting that the viscount’s concern about the coming babe had vanished quickly once Leah entered the picture. If William wanted to join them, his only reason could be a hope of insinuating himself with her. As many qualms as David had about being on the road alone with her, the thought of his brother infiltrating the party enraged him.

  He glanced at Leah, acknowledging she looked lovelier than ever dressed in her formal regalia. The twinkle in her eyes indicated her mood had lightened, and he felt a stab of raw jealousy that William’s presence had lifted the spirits he, David, had blackened earlier. The thought of his brother’s courting her made him ill--especially when he considered how eligible a suitor the handsome young heir might be judged.

  “We leave at dawn,” he said through a rigid jaw. If he could discourage William from traveling with them, that would keep him away for a few extra days. When the viscount did arrive at Solebury House, David could only hope his father’s anger still stood. A disgraced son at home would not hold so much appeal for Leah as the London dandy making up to her here.

  “At dawn?” The viscount appeared astounded. “Can I not persuade you to delay your departure to a less ungodly hour? I shouldn’t think you would be quite so anxious to see our dear father again.”

  “We must make the journey in a single day,” David said. “Lady Langston traveled here with us, but since she will remain in London, Miss Cantrell no longer has a chaperon.”

  “Indeed?” William looked to Leah and rubbed his chin. “Well, isn’t that . . . a pity. I cannot tell you how much I wish I might add to your security with my escort, Miss Cantrell. Unfortunately, I have obligations this evening that are like to keep me out past dawn.”

  “I understand,” she said with a hint of a smile that added to David’s resentment of his brother.

  “Her security is well
assured,” he snapped, then felt a wave of guilt as he recalled how close he had come to trying to lure her into his bed that morning. If he truly wanted to protect her, he would do well to guard her against himself. Maintaining a certain detachment between them would be the kindest service he could do for her.

  The sound of voices in the hall announced the approach of their hosts. While the Langstons welcomed their godson with polite reserve, the parlor maid entered and slipped the two brothers their brandy. David surmised she had delayed her return until her employers’ entrance provided a diversion for William. He sympathized with the girl, but she dashed away before he could even thank her for the drink.

  After the Langstons and William had exchanged greetings, the party moved into the dining room. David found himself seated in his usual place beside Leah, William across from them and their hosts at either end.

  “I hope you don’t mind our dining en famille,” the viscountess said. “The nice thing about sitting down with such a small group is that any conversation must include everyone at the table.”

  “Much preferable to a large party.” William leaned back to allow a servant to place soup before him. “For instance, in a larger group, I could not quiz Miss Cantrell about her accent, as I am not seated next to her. But here I am free to speak to anyone. May I ask where you acquired such unique articulation, Miss Cantrell?”

  “She is an American,” David said, irritated by his brother’s simpering smile.

  “Truly?” William’s gaze never left her face, as though she rather than his brother had answered. “I have never met an American before! Pray, tell me all about life in the States.”

  She laughed, though David willed she might sneer at the stale question.

  “All about it? Well, let me see if I can sum up the American experience in a few words. We speak the same language you do, only we try to pronounce every syllable very carefully. We drink coffee instead of tea. We’re very casual, whereas you’re more formal. And our sense of humor isn’t so dry--nor so witty, I think.”

  “You think us clever?” William shot his brother an expression of exaggerated surprise. “Do you hear that, David? We shall have to be very amusing during dinner tonight. We would not want to disabuse Miss Cantrell of her flattering estimation of our countrymen.”