Lady Lissa's Liaison (12 page)

"Look at it all!" Tilly gasped. "May I go and help? Maybe peek inside a few packages?"

Lissa, momentarily forgetting about his lordship and the passionate discoveries she'd had while in his embrace, smiled at her maid, nodding her approval for the abigail to help the others. "I fear I was a bit overzealous in my plans for the night's festivities, Tilly. Yes, by all means do help. And then spread word that I would like to meet with the staff within the hour."

Tilly made a step to hurry off, but paused a moment, saying quickly, "Oh, about what I am to forget concerning his lordship? For a minute, m'lady, I feared you meant your words about his lordship being your choice to darken yer name. Glad I am you didn't add
that
to your list." With that, Tilly bounded away, humming once again.

Lissa stared after the girl. "Tilly,
wait
—" she began, but clamped her mouth shut tight. The abigail was already shoulder-to-shoulder with the other servants, eagerly standing in wait to help unload the delivery.

To call the girl back would be to have all eyes upon her, and at that moment the
last
thing Lissa wished was for all of her servants to turn their collective attention toward her.

Drat,
thought Lissa. Her outlandish scheme to align Lord Wylde's blackened name with her own was
exactly
what she wanted Tilly to forget! She couldn't possibly go through with such a scheme now. Not when she'd allowed him such liberties... and had enjoyed every nuance of his brazen kisses.

Lissa's cheeks burned with the memory of all that had transpired in the river hut with Lord Wylde. Surely she wore the traces of his heated kisses on her mouth, not to mention her cheeks and her neck.

Her face still flaming, Lissa slowed her own paces, deciding to enter the house through the front door. As she eluded the gathering of servants, Lissa made a show of contemplating the many flowers growing in profusion in borders alongside the house. She even picked a few blooms, planning to place the stems in vases for the party.

As she did so, she could not help but feel the many eyes of her staff tracking her way into the house. With a side glance she saw Tilly nod her head and then whisper a few words to the staff nearest her. Lissa then noticed that all those within earshot glanced even more earnestly in their lady's direction.

Lissa frowned to herself. She had the sneaking suspicion some rig was in train where her abigail was concerned!

* * *

An hour later, after Lissa had met with her staff and all the domestics were in motion preparing for the night's festivities, Lissa's suspicions grew. Was she imagining things or had Cook actually appeared as though she knew some secret about Lissa's early-morning adventure? Every maid employed in the household acted in the same manner, and even the butler seemed to have swallowed a canary!

Lissa was just about to go in search of Tilly when she met Aunt Prudence coming down from the landing.

"There
you are, my dear," said Aunt Prudence, a splendiferous blond woman attired in a day gown of maize taffeta. "I'd feared you would be unavailable until the precise moment of our assemblage. Do you know Lavinia is due within the hour?"

"No," said Lissa. "I did not."

Prudence waved one thin and perfectly aristocratic hand in the air. " 'Tis true—though rather sad, if you ask me. Such a wallflower, Vinnie is! She's decided to come early and be with us when we greet our many guests. Pity, as far as I'm concerned. The girl is missing out on making a dashing entrance, but you know how she hates to create a fuss. Heaven forbid she should make an
appropriate
entrance on her own. I dareswear she intends to hide behind our skirts this night, Lis. We must come up with an alternate plan."

"It
is
Lavinia's party, Aunt Pru. She may arrive in whatever style suits her."

"Poppycock!" exclaimed Prudence, the many gold bangles on her arms tinkling as she shooed Lissa's words. "The whole point of this gathering is to give the girl a grand push toward all the men
you,
my dear, want nothing to do with." Prudence's pale blue eyes narrowed, and her gold bangles tinkled some more as she set her hands on her still-slim waist and asked, point-blank, "Or had you conveniently forgotten that fact during your grand escapade this morning, my sweet?"

"My
what?"
Lissa's gaze narrowed even as she forced down a guilty blush. "Into what sort of hobble do you believe I have thrust myself, Aunt Pru?"

"No hobble, not from what I've heard muttered about this morn. Quite the opposite, in fact." Prudence reached out and took firm hold of Lissa's hand. "The two of us need to talk.
Now."

Lissa's startled gasp was muffled by the sound of Prudence's taffeta skirts swishing as the older woman turned about and then propelled Lissa up the stairs, down the long hallway, and into her bedchamber.

"Really, Aunt Pru," complained Lissa as she was quickly and unceremoniously pulled into her aunt's room. "There is no need for such a cloak-and-dagger air."

"No?" asked Prudence, obviously disagreeing as she made certain no servants were afoot or lingering in the hall.

Lissa sighed, deciding to allow her aunt her head. She moved deeper into the room, scents of exotic oils filling her nostrils. Her aunt was a true world traveler and had become accustomed to exotic things. The potpourri of fragrances was dizzying—patchouli and bergamot, musk and champac, Roman chamomile, even Chinese neroli could be noted in the air. Her aunt loved oils and herbs perhaps more than she did the notion of her niece being married.

The far corner of the room harbored a large massage table, covered with clean, thick terry cloths, and a dainty satin pillow. The monstrosity was complemented by a sitting stool and a small sidetable, upon the latter of which was scattered numerous pots of fragrant oils from far-flung countries.

Prudence's massive dressing trunks claimed the other wall, while the bed itself (transported from Prudence's permanent home in Mayfair) was a huge creation of polished walnut, exquisite drapes, and numerous down-filled pillows. A rich, yellow silk counterpane reflected the morning's light coming through the high-curtained windows beyond the bed.

Though Prudence had announced she would stay with Lissa for a few weeks following the death of Albert (her brother and Lissa's father) Aunt Pru had somehow managed to become a permanent fixture at Clivedon Manor during their long period of official mourning. And then, with the advent of so many suitors from Town hoping to be the perfect
parti
for Lissa, and with Aunt Pru deciding she should play Cupid in the midst of all these gentlemen and her niece, the woman had extended her stay indefinitely.

Though Lissa adored her father's sister, she did not at all appreciate her aunt's single-mindedness in seeing her wed posthaste. But Aunt Prudence had been thrilled by the arrival of so many suitors, and had even gone so far as to create a list from which Lissa was to choose the most suitable admirer.

None of the names on Aunt Pru's list had moved Lissa, however, and now the two women seemed always to be at loggerheads.

The sound of the bedchamber door being closed and then locked caused Lissa to turn her attention toward her aunt. She felt like a fly caught in a spider's web; she being the fly and her aunt being the black spider come to wrap her tight!

Prudence was indeed a timeless being, thought Lissa as she watched her aunt move toward her. With her slim, but curvy form she looked no more than thirty-ish... and yet her eyes held the wisdom of a much older woman. She was stately and gorgeous, and she favored, in her own odd way, unconventional trappings, but surprisingly never appeared outmoded.

"Out with it, my sweet," Aunt Prudence announced, apropos of nothing.

"Excuse me?" said Lissa.

"Let us get right down to the matter at hand, my sweet. There is definitely something afoot, yet you seem bent on appearing as though you have no clue as to what that something could be. We'll start at the beginning, shall we? We'll start with you and what you have been about since—when was it you left your bed, Lis? At dawn? Ah, no, it was
before
then, if the servants can be trusted."

"I often head out in the wee hours of the morning, Aunt Pru. You know that."

"True enough," agreed her aunt. "But why is it
today
seems to be so odd? You stayed away an inordinate amount of time, Lis."

"I merely ventured out to sketch alongside the river and—" Lissa paused, noting her aunt's skeptical glance. "I
did
go out to sketch," she insisted.

"I've no doubt that was your initial intent. But
then
what, Lis?"

Lissa could not deliver an out-and-outer to her aunt. Though the woman was too set upon pushing her to the altar, she
did
mean well.

"And then I met
him,"
Lissa finally admitted, voice turning treacherously soft as she sank down onto the edge of Aunt Prudence's massive bed, her spunk escaping her.

"Ah, now there is the rub, I s'pose," murmured Prudence. "Dare I inquire as to the identity of this 'him'?"

Lissa glanced away, out the windows, to the spreading lawns one story down, and to the dark line of woods hedging the area beyond.

"His name is Gabriel," she said, imagining him alongside the river, angling still. "Gabriel Gordon, the sixth Earl of Wylde." She glanced back at her aunt. "But you already know that. I can see that you do."

"Aye, my sweet. I have heard a murmur or two."

Lissa took a deep breath. "What did Tilly tell you?"

"Tilly? Nothing, dear. She didn't
have
to. Unfortunately, Lis, I heard the rumor from John Coachman... who'd heard it from the stable boy... who heard it from the newsboy... who heard it from—"

"Dear heavens!" Lissa cut in, cringing. "What
did you hear, Aunt Pru?"

"That you have developed a
tender
for Lord Wylde."

There came a long beat of silence, time in which Lissa decided such a thing as a
tender
on her part was not so terrible. After all, such a rumor did not involve
his
feelings—only hers. Perhaps she was saved from Lord Wylde's wrath.

"A
tender?"
Lissa repeated, keeping her voice emotionless. "A young woman is allowed such a thing, is she not? I see no harm in people repeating such a rumor."

"But that is not
all,
"Prudence said. "I also heard that you and his lordship have embarked upon a
liaison."

Lissa's heart plummeted directly into the pit of her stomach. "Oh," she murmured, and then, unable to help herself, added, "Dear God, help me."

"Someone
ought to help you, if indeed this rumor is true! Is it, Lissa? Have you actually gone and entangled yourself in a liaison with the Heartless Lord Wylde?"

Lissa's head shot up. "He is
not
heartless, Aunt Pru. Oh, how I wish others would desist in referring to him in such an odious fashion!"

Prudence eyed her niece closely. "So you've come to know the man well."

"No!
Of—of course not. I only met him this day."

"Yet you have already deduced he is not without a conscience."

"He is
not
heartless, of that much I am certain."

"I see. What
other
conclusions have you drawn?"

Lissa felt her blood surge through her body just thinking of Lord Wylde. "That he enjoys angling for trout more than he likes the intrusion of people in his domain," she admitted softly, honestly. "That he is a man of few words and strong actions."

Prudence was silent for a moment. Quietly, she asked, "Are you fond of him?"

"I hardly
know
him."

"That doesn't answer my question, Lis. Are you? Fond of the man?"

Lissa's brow knitted anxiously. "I told you. I barely know the man, Aunt Pru."

"Yet when you speak of him, your voice goes soft."

"It doesn't!" insisted Lissa. "How ridiculous. I—I merely met with the man this morning. We talked of trout and flies and angling. I—there is nothing more to be said of the matter, really."

"What of this rumored liaison?"

Lissa paled, looking back at the windows, not seeing anything in particular this time. " 'Tis just that, a rumor."

Prudence sat down beside her. She took Lissa's right hand in both of hers. "So all of this wasn't your intent, was not a desperate ploy on your part, my sweet? It wasn't your way of thumbing your nose at your too-persistent aunt who has been ruthlessly plaguing you to make a match?"

Lissa felt her eyes flood with tears at her aunt's perception. A lump formed in her throat. She could hardly speak, let alone think.

"Oh, Aunt Pru," she finally whispered, heartsick. "It
was.
It—it was exactly that, I am afraid."

Lissa began to cry then.

Prudence wrapped her arms about her, drawing her close. "Ah, Lis, I have been too stern in my wish to see you wed. I realize that now. I simply hoped for you to make a marriage while you are young and passionate, and not to wait too long as I have done. I would hate for you to become a spinster like myself. I want the world for you, my sweet."

Lissa squeezed her eyes shut, emotion gripping her. "I know you do. And I love you for it." She pressed her face into her aunt's shoulder. "But I have been feeling so beset lately, what with all the gentlemen from Town dancing their attendance upon me. Oh, Aunt Pru, I
did
have a scheme where Lord Wylde was concerned. I—I thought that if I created the illusion of a liaison betwixt myself and his lordship that I—I would scare away my many suitors with just one sweep. But I—I had not thought about what would happen if it actually came to pass."