Candice Hern (10 page)

"They would all do very nicely for you," she said, "but I find myself quite partial to the lovely Miss Thirkill. She is the prettiest of the lot, to be sure."

"She is indeed," Thayne said. "Well, then, I shall give her serious consideration. We attend the same rout party this evening, so perhaps I will be able to spend some time with her."

"And observe how she behaves in public," the duchess said. "I have no doubt she is a pattern card of propriety. Lady Somerfield will have seen to that. But it is best to make certain."

The mention of the countess reminded Thayne of the unwelcome stir of desire she had wrought in him. He had better get that desire under control if he was to seriously court her niece. How ridiculous it would be to court and perhaps marry the younger, more beautiful girl while harboring a foolish lust for the older woman.

He supposed he should blame it on his unknown Artemis. She had not been a young girl whose sensual nature had needed coaxing and patience to awaken. She was a sexually experienced woman who had been thoroughly uninhibited in her desire, and in her response to his own passion. Since he had not yet found Artemis, he was no doubt seeing such potential in other attractive women. Like Lady Somerfield.

But if he was going to court her niece, then he would have to seek out some other woman and get the red-haired countess out of his mind.

If only he could find Artemis, he could forget all about Lady Somerfield.

"The Marquess of Thayne?"

Emily watched her mother's eyes grow huge with excitement, and felt her own stomach twist into a knot of anxiety. If Mama managed to ruin this opportunity for her, Emily would surely die.

Lady Thirkill was stretched out on a chaise in her sitting room with a mountain of pillows at her back and several paisley shawls draped over her legs. Even among family, she did not like to have her splinted leg on display. "The Marquess of Thayne!" She rubbed her hands together with glee. "And you had several minutes of private conversation with him?"

A plate of almond biscuits had been placed on the small tea table between Emily and her aunt. Emily reached for one and said, "We were not alone, so it was not entirely private. But we did speak together several times. Probably for twenty minutes altogether." She was more than pleased with her first meeting with Lord Thayne and it was only natural that she should share the news with her mother. But it was best if she banked her own excitement in hopes that Mama would not feel obliged to "help" to encourage his lordship's interest.

"Wonderful!" Her mother practically bounced on her chaise, her enthusiasm already too much to contain. She would likely have danced around the room if her leg were not broken.

Please, please, Mama, do not ruin this for me.

"You are to be commended, Sister, for doing your niece such a good turn. No other girl will have had the advantage of private conversation with him in his own home. And for twenty minutes!" Emily's mother fanned a hand rapidly before her face. "Bless me, I feel quite flushed. My daughter, a marchioness!"

"Really, Ophelia," her aunt said, "that is quite a leap from a single meeting, don't you think?"

Her mother lifted her chin at a determined angle Emily knew well. When Mama got a notion in her head, nothing could dislodge it. "I have heard the marquess is looking for a bride," she said. "Everyone says so. Who better than our Emily?"

Though Emily was inclined to agree, she did not like to see her mother get too attached to the idea of Lord Thayne's courting her. One never knew what she might say or do to jeopardize the possibility of a match. Thank heaven she was confined to her couch, for she would surely dog the poor marquess until he ran screaming in the other direction. If all went according to plan, Emily would not introduce Lord Thayne to her mother until he had declared himself and it was too late to back down.

In truth, she wished her mother had stayed in the country with Papa, where it would have been more difficult for her to interfere. But she had insisted on coming to town, to stay in their house on Bedford Square, even if she could not go about. "I must keep a sharp eye on things," she'd said, "and make sure your aunt does everything that is required." Mama had several friends who called on her frequently and kept her abreast of all the news. And every Tuesday afternoon, at her insistence, Emily and Aunt Beatrice paid a call on her and reported on all their activities. If they did not, Emily was quite sure her mother would have risen from her couch and somehow made her way to Brook Street to see for herself what was going on. When Emily had not found a husband in the first two weeks of the Season, her mother had begun threatening to take over the supervision of Emily's Season herself, broken leg or not.

And that was the very last thing Emily wanted.

She hated to harbor such disloyal thoughts, but Emily knew she was better served by her mother's absence from the Season. Aunt Beatrice not only had better connections but was well respected and admired. Everyone liked her. Mama, on the other hand, could sometimes be too loud, too excitable, too shrill. Her social skills were not as polished. Aunt Beatrice was sometimes overly concerned with proper behavior, but Mama seemed sometimes to have no discretion at all.

Though God may not approve, Emily nonetheless thanked Him every night for the injury that kept her mother confined to her couch.

"You must find an excuse to call on the duchess again soon," her mother said, wagging a finger at Aunt Beatrice. "And you must somehow contrive to attend all the same functions as the marquess. It is imperative that we throw these two young people together at every opportunity."

"There is no need to fret, Mama. Lord Thayne has accepted an invitation to join my aunt's barge party on Thursday. And he will be at Lady Wedmore's rout party tonight, so we may see him there as well. Rest assured that I shall make the best of each opportunity. I am as anxious to bring him up to scratch as you are, Mama."

"Do whatever it takes to secure his interest, my girl.
Whatever
it takes."

"Ophelia!" Aunt Beatrice scowled at Emily's mother and shook her head.

"She will not likely have such an opportunity again," her mother said. "Wealthy marquesses do not grow on trees, you know."

"You're right, Mama. But don't worry. I have every intention of succeeding. I will be the most charming girl he has ever met. He will not be able to resist me."

Aunt Beatrice continued to frown. Emily did not understand what had upset her. Surely she wanted Lord Thayne to court her? She had said as much several times before they arrived at Doncaster House.

"Just be sure you behave with strict propriety with him at all times," her aunt said. "One false step and the duchess will withdraw her approval."

Propriety! It was a constant litany with her aunt. "Of course, Aunt Beatrice. You need not worry on that account."

Her mother harrumphed and Aunt Beatrice shot her a look. Emily wished she understood what her aunt was so worried about. "The duke and duchess both seemed to like me," she said. "I did my best to charm them."

"You did indeed, my dear," her aunt said, and smiled again. "I declare, the duke was quite smitten with you. They both questioned me rather thoroughly, Ophelia. Emily's rank is significantly beneath Lord Thayne's, and they clearly wanted to be sure she was worthy of him. I gave a glowing report, of course. The duke has read some of Sir Albert's articles, by the way, and seemed to approve of his archaeological endeavors."

"Well, that is something," her mother said. "You don't suppose they will look too closely into ... certain matters, do you?"

"What matters?" Emily asked.

"Simply matters of connections and such," her aunt replied, reaching over to pat her affectionately on the knee. "Nothing of any consequence. And they seemed quite satisfied with what I told them, Ophelia. I spoke with the marquess myself for some time as well. He is excessively proud and rather too haughty, if you want my opinion. Emily will have her work cut out for her to pierce that steely reserve. But I did notice he warmed up a bit when talking of his travels in Asia. You might keep that in mind, my dear."

"Then I shall ask him all about it," Emily said. She did not need to be told that men liked to talk about themselves. She had learned that trick when she was still in the schoolroom. "And I shouldn't be concerned about his haughtiness. He's the heir to a duke, after all. Who has a better right to be haughty?"

And once she married him, she would be equally haughty. Why should she not be? She would have snared the matrimonial prize of the Season.

If only Mama didn't manage to ruin things.

* * *

Thayne was looking for Miss Thirkill and her aunt when he saw her.
Artemis
. He had found her. Here at the very crowded Wedmore rout, he had found her at last. He was quite sure of it.

The large town house was teeming with guests. The rooms had been emptied of furniture and were now filled to bursting with people. If there was food or drink, Thayne hadn't seen it. Just throngs of people coming and going, moving from group to group, talking and laughing. It had taken him almost half an hour to make his way up the stairs.

And that was when he saw her. She was standing near one of the windows of the drawing room. She had very fair skin and very dark hair set in soft waves and gathered at the back of her neck. Her eyes were the purest blue. She moved with an unconscious grace, a gentle sway of hip and shoulder that evoked sweet memories of his elusive huntress. She even wore a yellow silk gown that fell softly over the curves of her body. Her arms were covered, though, to his disappointment. The tops of her gloves met the edges of her sleeves, so not a hint of flesh could be seen. But he was sure they were
her
arms. His Artemis.

Who was she?

"Do you see the woman in yellow?" he asked Burnett, who stood several inches taller than anyone else in the room and would have a better vantage. "Do you know who she is?"

Burnett craned his head in her direction. "Can't say that I do. Pretty woman, though. Hold on. You think she might be ..."

"I feel sure she is. Everything about her is right. It is
her
, I tell you."

Thayne shouldered his way through the crowd, making such a determined progress toward her that people stood aside and let him pass. She seemed to sense his approach and looked his way. Her eyes widened slightly. He held her gaze, willing her to recognize him, to acknowledge him. But instead she flushed and turned away.

Perhaps his urgency had shown too well in his eyes. He had frightened her. She moved closer to a man standing nearby, who smiled at her and took her arm. She clung to it like a lifeline. It seemed his Artemis was indeed a married women, and she did not wish to acknowledge what had passed between her and Thayne that night in the garden.

Damn. He had suspected that might be the case when she'd bolted so quickly and refused to give her name. She'd been ashamed and even a bit fearful, despite having minutes before melted in his arms. The masquerade had allowed her to be bold and she had ultimately done something rash. As he watched her, he could imagine how out of character the sexual encounter had been for her. There was a demure air about her, almost a shyness, as she clung to the man who must be her husband. She would not want Thayne to approach her, to acknowledge, even with a look, what had happened between them.

Bloody hell
.

Disappointment slammed into him with the force of a tidal wave. He had been determined to find his huntress and entice her into a love affair. He could see now that it would never happen. She would not allow it. She would not even speak to him.

Thayne had come to a halt in his progress and Burnett almost crashed up against him before he realized it. "What is it?" he asked. "Why have we ...? Ah. I see. Bad luck, old man. Married to Vernon, is she?"

Lord Vernon? Dear God.

"Well, perhaps she would be interested in a discreet bit of dalliance," Burnett said, grinning. "My father is well acquainted with Vernon and I've met him a time or two. Do you know him? If not, I could introduce you. Then you'd have an excuse to speak with Lady Vernon."

"Good God, no. Damn and blast. Let's move on. Let's get out of here."

It seemed that all the possible bad situations he'd imagined had come to pass. She was worse than merely married. She was married to an important minister in Lord Liverpool's cabinet. Thayne would never dare to dally with the wife of such a man. He could hardly believe he'd already done so. God help him if Vernon ever found out, though it appeared his wife would never let on. She would not want her formidable husband to know she frolicked in dark gardens with masked strangers.

Even worse, Lord Vernon had Liverpool's ear. If Thayne ever hoped for a ministry post of his own, and he did, he could not afford to have Vernon speak against him to the prime minister.

Thayne turned and walked away, his disappointment now overshadowed with relief. It had been a very near thing. He might have been seen to importune Lady Vernon and lose all chance at a political career. It was unfortunate that he could no longer dream of a love affair with his huntress. But there was nothing for it. Their one mad moment together would simply be a sweet memory, never to be repeated.

"Ah, there is Miss Thirkill," Burnett said. "She has seen us. You know what they say, Thayne. One door closes and another opens. Forget about Lady Vernon. The prettiest girl in the room is smiling at you."

Burnett was right. Thayne had no time to pine over the loss of a lover. He had to woo a wife.

Miss Thirkill, however, did not need wooing. Radiant in shades of pink, she was surrounded by a group of young men who might have been admirers, or simply other guests conveniently crushed into her vicinity. She gifted Thayne with her brightest smile as he approached. He glanced to her side to see Lady Somerfield. She was even more attractive in evening wear, fashionably dressed in a shade of deep green that set off her beautiful hair. She smiled, too, but there was a hint of challenge in it. Had she sensed his attraction to her that afternoon, and was warning him off?