Newport Summer (6 page)

The thought brought on a renewed sense of panic, her
thoughts coming full circle. How could she have been so
foolish as to entertain his company that afternoon when
she was so close to achieving her dream of Vienna? She
could stand to lose it all.

The room pressed around her, hot and loud with a
thousand conversations. The excellent lobster stuck in
her throat. She rose hastily, thinking only that she had
to get out of the room. “Please, excuse me. I need some
air.” She was clumsy in her efforts to extricate herself
from the closely spaced tables and chairs. Her elegant Worth train got in her way, and she stumbled. Tears
burned her eyes.

“Please, let me assist you,” a quiet voice said by her
side, a strong hand cupping her elbow. It was Gannon,
and at the moment, she had no choice but to rely on him
to steer her through the room. “Just walk with me, a few
more steps, now a few more,” he coached close to her
ear, his voice pleasantly comforting. Within moments he
had them outside and found them a bench in the coolness
of the night air.

“Are you all right, Audrey?” he asked, paying no attention to her earlier request to call her Miss St. Clair.
He pressed a handkerchief into her hand. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”

His evening jacket was off before she could answer,
neatly draped around her shoulders.

She breathed deeply. The garment smelled of him,
the sandalwood she’d noted earlier. She took another
breath, feeling the air start to calm her. “I’m sorry to be
a bother. I just felt sick for a moment. I am better now,
thank you.”

There was some truth in that, but she couldn’t bring
herself to tell him he’d been the reason for her upset. She
wouldn’t feel entirely well until he went away for good.
As long as he was here in Newport, she was in danger.
Too bad. He was quite charming, and she’d have liked to
spend time in his company if the situation was different.

“Please, it is not necessary that you stay. You may go
back to your dinner,” Audrey urged. If he was out here too long, her mother would be quietly reserving Grace
Church for the fall.

Gannon peered at her in the darkness. “I find I am
not convinced that you’re feeling better, and I fear I
may be the cause of your upset. Have I done something
to bother you?”

“Done something?” Audrey’s frustration broke, finally able to be directed at someone, something. “You
didn’t tell me who you were on the beach”

“I told you my name. I did not lie to you”

“You did not tell me you were an earl!” Audrey replied,
her voice low and strident in her accusation.

Gannon’s voice remained unsatisfactorily even and
logical. “You did not tell me you were an heiress-‘the
richest girl in the room,’ according to my sources tonight. You can imagine my surprise.”

“That’s different,” Audrey huffed, although for the life
of her she couldn’t figure out why at the moment. “One
does not talk about money in polite conversation.”

“What would you have had me do, Audrey? Introduce
myself as a titled Englishman after you’d espoused such
a distaste for them? I, for one, was having too good a
time to ruin it.”

That brought her up short and effectively quelled her
brewing tirade. The truth was, she’d been having fun
too. She’d liked talking to the Englishman on the beach,
so much so that she’d been willing to overlook the obvious about his presence in Newport. It wasn’t fair to
blame him entirely. “I think I liked it better when we were just Gannon and Audrey,” she sighed, “instead of
the heiress and the earl.”

Gannon laughed in the darkness, a rich, mellow, comforting sound. “Perhaps we can work on that.”

He was so unfailingly polite, so unswervingly sincere,
that Audrey found herself dissembling in a most unladylike fashion. “Oh, no, you don’t know my mother. You
have to go back in right now for your own good. The
longer you’re out here with me, the more my parents will
get their hopes up” She could hear the panic return to
her voice. One would think she was on a run for her life,
from the fear her voice emanated.

“Hopes about what?” Gannon asked.

“Don’t be obtuse,” Audrey scolded, hardly believing
the man could be so dense. “What do you think parents
get their hopes up for when their daughter goes outside
with a handsome earl?”

“Ah. We’re speaking of matrimonial hopes, I take it?”
Gannon paused. “You don’t want to marry me?” Light
teasing colored his words.

“I hardly know you.” Audrey was in no mood for
banter in spite of Gannon’s efforts to the contrary. She
couldn’t let him through her defenses so easily, even
though she was tempted. For all her reservations, she
was undeniably drawn to the Englishman.

“But you said I was handsome,” he pressed.

That got a laugh from her. “Well, everyone says so.
The girls have talked of nothing else tonight but your
divine good looks.”

“So is it me you’re opposed to, or just marriage in
general?” Gannon asked once the laughter between
them faded.

“You mustn’t take it personally,” Audrey supplied
quickly, not wanting to hurt his feelings. He’d been quite
nice, and he deserved better from her. “I simply don’t
wish to be married”

“Especially to an Englishman,” Gannon filled in. “I recall your specific points on the subject. I have an excellent
memory, along with my posture”

Audrey blushed in the darkness, remembering her
harsh words about drafty houses, empty pockets, and
slouching physiques. “You must pardon my bluntness
on the subject. In no way did I mean to impugn your
Camberly Hall or your visit.”

Awkward silence sprang up. “You’re not the one who
needs pardoning,” Gannon said after a while. “That day
on the beach, you were honest, while I was not. You
have confided a bit in me, and now I find that I must
confide a bit in you. You were right a moment ago when
you said I wasn’t entirely truthful with you. I am here
heiresshunting. I mean to find a rich wife so that I can
save Camberly and my family.”

It was just as she’d thought. But hearing the words
didn’t make Audrey feel triumphant. There was no glory
in being right. She hadn’t wanted him to be an heiresshunter any more than he apparently wanted to be one.
Instead of wanting to recoil in disgust, Audrey felt the
sorrow that was so evident in his voice.

Instinctively, she reached for his hand where it lay on his thigh. She squeezed it gently. “I am sorry to hear
that. You must love Camberly very much.”

“With all my being,” he said simply.

She nodded. She knew what that felt like. She
loved the piano the same way, as if the instrument itself was her heart, but that was not a secret she could
tell yet.

“You don’t want to marry an heiress?” she ventured.

Gannon shook his head. “Will you keep my secret if
I tell you? I want to marry someone who recommends
herself to me beyond her bank account. Money is only
money, as necessary as it is.”

Audrey crossed her arms and sat back against the
bench, irrationally liking the earl more and more as their
conversation progressed. “It seems we are not such dissimilar creatures, Gannon Maddox. Neither of us is in a
hurry to marry, but both of us are being forced to it by
circumstances not of our making.”

Gannon leaned back to join her, turning his head to
the side so she could see the mischief playing in his
mossy eyes. “What do you propose we do about that?”

Audrey smiled back, feeling better than she had all
night. “I’ll let you know. I am working on a plan that
will see you rich and unshackled at summer’s end”

“And what about you?” Gannon asked. “What do you
get for all your machinations?”

“The only thing I’ve ever really wanted.” Audrey
stood up and shook out her skirts, carefully looping the long train about her wrist. “Now, come inside and dance
with me, so everyone knows all is well.”

Once inside, Gannon led her to the dance floor and
fitted his strong hand against her back, moving them into
the waltz with ease. “Tell me, Audrey,” he asked, turning
them at the top of the ballroom, “what is the only thing
you’ve ever really wanted?”

She laughed up at him. “Why, my freedom, of course”

Gannon watched the ocean rolling, blue and endless,
from the wide bank of windows of the well-appointed
sitting room the Carringtons had given him to use as an
office of sorts during his stay. A half smile played at his
lips as he reread the simple note that had arrived for him
that morning-all two sentences of it-written in her
forthright manner.

Audrey St. Clair had a plan. She would discuss it with
him at the polo match later that afternoon.

Her letter was the best piece of correspondence he’d
received. A plan that salvaged Camberly without requiring his matrimonial sacrifice would be ideal. But patently
unlikely. It was fantastical to think that a twenty-year-old
woman would have the answers he’d spent years looking
for. Furthermore, he had no business trusting someone he hardly knew with such an important situation. He preferred the word important to dire, which was, unfortunately, just as accurate.

The other letter he’d received was from Garrett,
posted during the latter week Gannon was at sea. Creditors had been highly concerned about the earl’s absence
from the country. Garrett assured him he’d scotched
those concerns before they could become dangerous rumors. Yet such news was a sharp reminder of his purpose in Newport. The lure of Miss Audrey St. Clair was
not a distraction he could afford.

Still, even knowing better, he could not banish the
images of the prior evening completely. She’d been a
breathtaking vision in her pale yellow gown at the
Casino ball. Everything about her appearance had been
orchestrated to perfection, from the way the color of the
gown complemented her complexion to the blue trim
that matched her eyes in subtle precision. She had been
artistry in motion, a living, moving canvas for Worth’s
renowned craftsmanship.

But she was more than a mere mannequin come to
life. He’d seen both her panic and her passion last night,
and both had intrigued him, filling his restless night
with suppositions. What was in this for her? What did
she need her freedom for? He’d instinctively felt that
her laughter on the ballroom floor was masking something deeper. She needed this plan to succeed because
she had another plan that depended on it, but what that
was, Gannon had no idea.

Lionel poked his head around the doorframe of the sitting room. “There you are. I thought I might find
you here” Lionel nodded at the letters. “Not bad news,
I hope?”

“No” Gannon dismissed the missive from England
with an easy wave of his hand. “Just news from
home-all the usual” Creditors, debts, a flagging bank
account-nothing at all that the Carringtons dealt with.

“Good. I am glad to hear it. Stella’s waiting for us so
we can be off for the Casino. There’s tennis today”

Gannon rose and smiled good-naturedly. “And I thought the London Season was busy”

Lionel clapped him on the back. “It takes some getting used to. The ladies keep a highly regimented schedule: morning rides at nine, shopping at the Casino at ten,
swimming at Bailey’s Beach at eleven, and dancing until sunup” Lionel laughed. “Thank goodness it’s only
for six weeks a year. How did you like the St. Clair chit
last night?”

“I liked her quite well,” Gannon said as they strolled
through the wide halls of Rose Bluff to the entry, where
Stella had the low-sided phaeton waiting. He found
himself reluctant to discuss Audrey in terms of an object to be appraised.

Lionel raised an eyebrow at his friend’s meager description. “That’s all? She’s an excellent choice. You
could do no better.”

Gannon took offense at that. “No better? In terms of
what? Looks? Money? Connections?”

Lionel stopped in his tracks and threw his hands up
in surrender. “Whoa! I didn’t mean to raise a sensitive
subject. I thought you were here for a wealthy bride.”

Gannon faced his friend squarely. “I am, but I don’t
have to like it, and I don’t have to subject any likely
prospects to the same lowering experience I am becoming all too familiar with. We are people, after all, and entirely more than the sum of our balance sheets” Where
had his cold detachment gone? He sounded like Audrey
espousing her dislike of titled Englishmen.

“I am sorry, Lionel, I have lost my temper,” Gannon
apologized swiftly. “It is proving to be much harder to
complete my mission than I had anticipated.”

Lionel looked blankly at him. “Surely it’s not the lack
of willing candidates.”

“No, it’s not that at all. It’s me,” Gannon confessed.
There was Audrey, desperately in love with her freedom,
and there was the nightly sight of the elegant and inanely
happy Carringtons themselves serving as poignant reminders of what Gannon had elected to sacrifice.

Lionel pierced him with a shrewd stare. “Ah, I am beginning to see. Well, perhaps the lovely Miss St. Clair
will be at the tennis match this morning.”