Not Wicked Enough (30 page)

Mountjoy schooled his expression. “Eugenia.” He laughed, and he even sounded convincing. “I am not in love with Miss Wellstone.”

“Thank goodness. I am sorry, Mountjoy for jumping to conclusions about your feelings for Lily.”

“You’ve no need to apologize.” He smiled and picked up his pen. “Please close the door when you go.”

Another century passed with him having given up any pretense of working. Then Doyle tapped on his office door and informed him it was time to change for supper.

He absolutely was not in love with Lily.

L
ILY CAME DOWNSTAIRS FOR SUPPER PRECISELY AT SIX
o’clock that evening, much recovered from the morning’s treasure hunting experience and firm in her conviction that morning activities were to be avoided at all costs. She wore her very best evening gown, a crimson silk worked with gold embroidery and a gold underskirt that peeked from the scalloped hem. She had spent several afternoons before her departure for Bitterward fashioning the trim on the bodice and hem.

One curl of her hair was loose and trailed along the side of her neck. A matching arrangement of gold lace and crimson roses was affixed below a gold-filigree hair comb in the curls pinned at the back of her head. She’d even changed the ribbon for her medallion to a red one.

From the doorway, she had a view of Mountjoy and his brother before either man saw her. Every atom of her attention was for Mountjoy. He was seated on a chair, reading a paperbound journal while Lord Nigel stood staring into the
fireplace, one foot on the grate. Mountjoy was as badly dressed as ever, yet the sight of him made her happy.

She straightened her skirts, adjusted the gold lace at her neckline, and tugged on her bodice before she walked in. Mountjoy saw her first, but all he did was set his journal on his lap. Lord Nigel turned his back to the fire and gave her an elaborate bow of the sort he only gave her when his brother was around to see it. Mountjoy stood, setting his volume on the table beside him.

She curtseyed. “Good evening, your grace. Lord Nigel.”

“Miss Wellstone.” Lord Nigel came forward to take her hand. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“I am, thank you.”

“You look lovely.”

As a matter of fact, she was quite sure she did look lovely. She glanced at Mountjoy, but he stayed where he was, hands behind his back. If he admired her appearance tonight more, or even less, than any other time, she could not tell.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” she said. He was supposed to have changed for supper, but could one even be sure? His cravat, which was not sufficiently starched, was loosened, and his coat was unbuttoned. Not unforgivable, that unbuttoned coat, but his waistcoat, that was unforgivable. The garment was muddy brown silk with small red lozenges that did not hide the knobs in the weave. Silk, yes, but poor quality. The design was not bad, but the colors and tailoring were unfortunate and inferior. She made a mental note to visit the man’s tailor as soon as possible.

Mountjoy approached her at last, and with a flicker of his attention to her bosom, he bent over her hand. “Good evening, Miss Wellstone.”

“Your grace.”

He took something from his pocket. The corners of his mouth twitched. “I have something you ought to see.”

“What could it be?” She was no longer shocked at the hard thump of her pulse when their eyes briefly locked.
There was nothing astonishing about her finding another man attractive, after all. She’d reacted that way to Greer even before she’d fallen in love with him and long before Greer had let her know he felt the same.

He opened his hand and held it out. “This.”

She came close enough to see an irregularly shaped circle no larger than her smallest fingernail and so dark a copper that the object, at first glance, appeared black. Her heart sank after she plucked it from his hand. “Where did you get this, sir? From a shop in High Tearing by chance?”

The twitch of his mouth broadened into a smile. A very smug smile. “I kept several of them back from among the coins Nigel and I found near the river that day. They’ve been in my quarters ever since. Safe from the inquisitive fingers of boys who build trebuchets.”

Lily stared at the coin in her hand. She hated to lose. Abhorred it.

“I believe, Miss Wellstone,” he said in a low voice, “that I have won our wager.”

She would have answered, but Ginny’s arrival gave her an excuse to silently return the coin. He pocketed it, still with his smug grin.

“What wager is that?” Ginny crossed the room to envelop Lily in a quick embrace. “Lovely to see you. I was worried you wouldn’t feel well enough to come downstairs.”

“I’m quite well now, Ginny.”

She held Lily at arm’s length. “Don’t you look lovely?” She glanced at her brothers. “Doesn’t she look lovely?”

Lord Nigel made another elaborate bow and said, “As ever.”

Mountjoy said nothing, but Lily felt the heat of his gaze.

Lord Nigel coughed into his hand. “Eugenia, I have business that will take me to London tomorrow. Is there anything I can bring back for you?”

“You’re going to London?” Mountjoy asked.

Ginny turned to her younger brother. “You’ll be back in time for our ball, won’t you?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He bowed to the duke. “Yes. I’ve business there. I won’t be long. A few days.”

“You’d better not,” Ginny said. “We’re counting on you to dance with all the young ladies too terrified to dance with Mountjoy.”

“Of course, Eugenia. Your errands?”

“Would you mind stopping at Hookam’s for me? There are several books I’d like. I’ll write down the titles for you.” Ginny headed to the writing desk to do just that, sweeping her skirts out of the way as she sat. She wore white, and Lily thought she looked just splendid.

“Miss Wellstone?” Lord Nigel asked. “Anything for you? Books? Ribbons? Candied almonds? I know you’re fond of them. When I go to London I always bring back nougat for Eugenia.”

“Thank you, Lord Nigel, that would be lovely.”

“Mountjoy, what should Nigel bring back for Jane?” Ginny said from the desk where she was writing her list. She looked over her shoulder. “My dear brother,” she said. “Do not tell me you haven’t any idea.”

Lily shot a glance at Mountjoy, who stood impassive.

“Then I must remain silent.”

Ginny sighed. “Nigel, bring her back some lace. I’ll write down the name of the shop. Brussels lace if you can get it.”

“I promise you,” Lord Nigel said quickly, “I’ll bring back everything she requires.”

“Something for all the Misses Kirk,” Ginny said, still writing.

“Certainly.” Lord Nigel turned to his brother. “What have you done with the treasure, Mountjoy? It’s not still in the wagons, is it?”

“No,” the duke answered smoothly. “I took the liberty of moving the artifacts to the old stillroom. If you are not familiar with the location, Miss Wellstone, Eugenia can show you where it is.”

“Thank you.” Their eyes met again. Head on, and she lost all sense of anyone or anything but him, and she did not often
lose her self-possession. He did not look away. Or smile. Goodness, but his eyes were an astonishing green, and his hair, though worn a shade too long, suited his careless manner.

“Here.” Ginny stretched backward over the desk chair, extending the notepaper to Lord Nigel, who took the sheet from her and slipped it into an inside pocket of his coat. “Thank you, Nigel.”

Lily tore her gaze from Mountjoy. “We’ll need a detailed inventory of what we found, Ginny. Perhaps you and I could begin tomorrow?”

“If you like. But I’ve just had the most wonderful idea,” Ginny said.

“Oh?”

She shifted to face her younger brother. “Nigel, what if Lily and I went to London with you?” She turned again, this time to address Mountjoy. “May we stay at the town house?”

“That would not be convenient,” Lord Nigel said.

“Whyever not?” She gripped the top of the chair and leaned over it. “No one stays there when Mountjoy’s at Bitterward. As well open the house for one person as three. We won’t bother you, Nigel, I promise.”

“I’m very sorry, Eugenia,” Lord Nigel said. He wiped his hands down the front of his coat. “But I’m leaving before dawn, and I’m not taking the carriage.”

“A trip to London is a lovely idea, but, Ginny, I cannot go,” Lily said, partly because it was true, but also because Lord Nigel obviously did not want their company. “Not tomorrow, at any rate.”

“Why not?”

She sent a quick glance in Mountjoy’s direction. She had so little time before she had to return to Syton House, and she did not want to spend any of it away from Mountjoy. “Your brother has produced a coin that was the subject of a wager we made earlier this afternoon.”

Ginny leaned her forearm over the back of her chair. She looked from Mountjoy to Lily. “A wager?”

“Yes.”

“Oh dear. You lost, didn’t you, Lily?”

“Yes.”

“If only you’d told me. I would have warned you. Nigel and I learned as children never to wager with him.” She shook her head. “How much did you lose?”

“Alas, Ginny, I am now obliged to wait hand and foot on your brother for a period of twenty-four hours.”

Ginny tried to stop a laugh and failed. “Say it’s not so, Lily.”

“I’m afraid it is. We’ll go to London another time, I promise you. On this occasion, sadly, Lord Nigel will have to make do without our company.”

“However will I manage?” Lord Nigel said.

“Fortitude, sir. A great deal of fortitude. As I must now have. Your grace,” Lily said to Mountjoy, “would you not like to sit down?” She walked to a chair and, standing behind it, put her hands on either side of the back.

“I do believe,” Mountjoy said, pointing to a chair on the opposite side of the room, “that I would like to sit in that chair.”

“But of course. Would you care for a blanket, perhaps?” she asked as she walked across the room. He went along and sat, with great ceremony, on the chair. “Or a pillow upon which to rest your weary noble feet?”

“That stool there,” he said with a wave at a round ottoman on yet another side of the room. She fetched it for him and placed it at his feet. “
Hmm
,” he said in a doubtful tone as he shifted around. Lord Nigel snickered while Ginny gawped at her elder brother. “I’m not sure this one is as comfortable as I’d hoped.”

Lily gave him a curtsey worthy of a meeting with the Prince Regent. “Allow me to search the house for another, your grace, for I can think of nothing but your pleasure and happiness.”

The arrival of Doyle to announce dinner prevented her carrying out that plan. Mountjoy rose and held out his arm. “Miss Wellstone.”

He escorted her to the dinner table, seeing her to her seat at his right. She took care to over-attend to his needs. She even unfolded his napkin and draped it over his lap for him.

“Thank you, Wellstone.”

No one seemed to notice his slip, thank goodness. The food, as always, was excellent, the conversation as good as ever. They discussed the treasure they’d uncovered, what it might be, how they might clean it and whether it was Roman or something much older. Or younger. It was Mountjoy who mentioned an acquaintance at Oxford who they might call in to have a look, which Lily thought an excellent idea.

As they talked, servants brought each dish to the duke first, but to much amusement Lily made a point of examining the dishes and selecting the most delectable slice of beef, the lightest, flakiest fish. She tasted his wine for him, and when she found it acceptable, which she did because the cellars at Bitterward were first-rate, she filled his glass rather than allowing one of the footmen to do so.

“Mountjoy,” Ginny said. “Since Nigel will be gone tomorrow, would you be so kind as to drive Lily and me into High Tearing?”

Mountjoy drank some of his wine and casually held out his glass for Lily to refill. She did, with the wonderful French Beaujolais that had been opened. “I am free in the afternoon, if that’s convenient for you.”