Scoundrel (26 page)

“I believe Remmington enjoyed your explanation of hieroglyphics.”

Sophie looked at her over one shoulder, her brows raised. “On what do you base that assumption? He did no more than nod his head on occasion.”

“I can tell when he takes an interest in something.” Lily finished the last of the buttons and stepped away.

“Hm. I don’t believe you can. Turn around so I can unfasten you.” Sophie placed her hands on Lily’s shoulders and nudged her around. “His interest in you is obvious, Lily. Whatever made you think otherwise?”

“He made his feelings about our courtship very clear. It really doesn’t matter, Sophie. Let’s speak of something else.”

“Very well. Sulking is very unbecoming to your complexion.” Sophie leaned forward to examine Lily’s face. “It makes you look all pale and wan. Really, Lily. After years of mooning over this man, I cannot believe you are ready to give up on him so easily. It seems perfectly apparent that the two of you are ideal for each other.”

“Do you really think so?” Lily shook her head. “I don’t think Remmington would agree with your opinion.”

“Of course he does. What I cannot understand is why he will not admit as much, or at least give you both a chance to explore your feelings for one another. Surely a man like Remmington is not afraid of getting his feelings hurt.”

“I believe he wants to spare
my
feelings. He said I should not waste myself on him, that he does not intend to remarry.”

Sophie fell silent for a long moment. “Well. That’s the end of it, then. At least he was noble enough to be honest with you.” She gave Lily’s shoulder a perfunctory pat. “That’s also the last of the buttons. Do you think I should wear my pearls tonight?”

Lily whirled around to face her. “I thought you said… I mean, do you really think I should give up on him?”

“It seems you have no other choice.” Sophie turned away to hide a knowing smile. She scooped up her evening clothes from the bed and disappeared behind a dressing screen. Her voice carried clearly across the room. “He does not want a wife, and you cannot possibly consider a relationship with him as anything less.”

“It isn’t as if I asked him to marry me,” Lily muttered, although she knew Sophie was right. There was little point in a courtship if marriage was already out of the question.

“If I were you,” Sophie went on, “I would stop acting like a mute little mouse and show him that you can manage just fine without his affections. You don’t want his pity, do you?”

“Well, no.”

“And you don’t want him to think you are some lovesick schoolgirl, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Thai you must endeavor to do something other than brood when you are in his company. Start a conversation. Your work with hieroglyphics is a safe enough topic. I know you can talk for hours on that subject. And a smile or two would not cause any lasting injury.”

“You may be right, Sophie.” Lily gave a small sigh of defeat. It was time to stop deceiving herself, to get on with her life.

“Of course I’m right,” Sophie called out. “There is just one last problem to be dealt with.”

Just one
? Lily thought. Her life was nothing but one problem after another of late. She mentally shrugged her self-pity aside as she turned to pick up her own ice-blue evening gown from the bed. From this moment on, she would not indulge in such lowering thoughts. She would be strong, in control of her emotions. “What problem is that, Sophie?”

“Well, it seems apparent that he overheard everything we said that night in the Ashlands’ gardens. He will doubtless continue to think of you as that poor, smitten creature until you set him straight.”

Lily clutched the gown to her chest. “Just what are you suggesting?”

“You must tell him that you’ve come to your senses, that you no longer have any designs on his affections.”

And she thought self-pity was a lowering thought? Sophie’s idea would be the final humiliation. “Why on earth would I do anything of the sort?”

Sophie walked from behind the screen, rearranging the ribbons that secured the high waistline of her rose-colored gown. “You don’t have to use those precise words, of course. Tell him you value his friendship, that you realize there can never be anything more between you than that. And would you mind telling me why you find this so funny?”

“I’m sorry.” Lily tried to wipe the smile from her face. “It’s just that Remmington said almost those same words to me the day after I arrived at his town house.”

Sophie looked flustered for a moment. “Well, then. It should please him to know he was right. I just think you need to make a clean break of things, Lily. I know it will be difficult, for he will continue to be a part of your life. You need his protection until they find the man who attacked you, but you do not need his pity. If nothing else, you can salvage your pride.”

Lily’s brows drew together.

“You must trust me,” she said. “Your thoughts are clouded by your emotions right now, and I can see the situation much more clearly. As a matter of fact, it appears clear as a crystal. When you see him tonight, do what you can to relax and be yourself. Ask him to take you for a morning ride. That will provide a certain amount of privacy to tell him what you must.”

Lily bit her lip. “I don’t know, Sophie. I will think about what you said, but I cannot make any promises.”

She and Sophie were two of the last guests to arrive in the billiards room that evening. Almost thirty people were there already, a large gathering for an Egyptian Antiquities Society meeting. Two gentlemen played billiards at the green baize table, but most of the other guests sat on the low couches scattered around the room.

Remmington’s height made him easy for Lily to spot in the crowd. He stood with Lord Holybrook and Lord Poundstone near the fireplace, one arm propped negligibly on the mantel. As if he could sense her presence, his head turned toward the doorway and his look came instantly to meet hers. He murmured something to the other gentlemen, then pushed away from the mantel and walked toward her. The conversations in the room grew quiet and Lily sensed that everyone watched them. She had eyes only for Remmington. They’d been apart less than an hour since their arrival. It suddenly seemed much longer. Sophie’s advice rang in hear ears, and she forced herself to smile.

When he halted before them, they gave him the curtsy that protocol required. He lifted Sophie’s hand for a perfunctory kiss, but the one he gave Lily seemed to last longer. He released her hand the moment the kiss ended. “Would you ladies care for something from the buffet?”

“I’m really not hungry,” Lily said.

Sophie had no such hesitations. “I’m starved” She glanced toward the buffet at one end of the room. “Ah, there’s Mr. Rumford. I want to ask him about those scarabs he brought to the last meeting. If you will excuse me?”

Lily wondered if Sophie left them alone on purpose, even as she reminded herself to keep smiling. A conversation with Remmington was the next order of business. She didn’t feel quite ready to accomplish that task on her own. Sophie’s advice had sounded almost logical in the Queen’s Chamber. Here, standing so close to Remmington, she lost her nerve. “I should say hello to our host. I haven’t seen Lord Holybrook since the meeting in January. If you will excuse me?”

“I’ll go with you.” Remmington took her arm before she could think of an objection and led her toward the fireplace.

Well into his sixties, Lord Alfred Holybrook boasted a thick shock of snowy white hair. The wrinkles that curved around the features of his face showed more of his years, and his rheumy eyes were a pale, faded blue. He gave Remmington a congenial nod, then lifted Lily’s hand for a cursory greeting. “Good evening, Lady Lillian, I’d so hoped you would join us this weekend. The meetings just haven’t been the same these past few months with you. And now you’ve sparked another’s interest.” He turned to Remmington. “I vow it is a disease, Your Grace. Once the passion gets in your blood, there is no escaping it.”

Lily’s eyes grew wider and wider. Remmington leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Try not to look so shocked. He is talking about antiquities.”

“Eh? What’s that you say?” Holybrook demanded.

“I was just telling Lady Lillian that I am looking forward to learning more about Egyptian antiquities.”

“Splendid, splendid. I, myself, take particular interest in sarcophagi.” He lifted his ebony cane and pointed the tip toward a massive, rectangular stone object that leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room. “That fellow arrived just last week. I’ve been saving him for the meeting. Dr. Alexander, the renowned Egyptologist, will arrive tomorrow. He’ll have the honor of breaking the seals and taking the first look inside. I’ll probably not get a wink of sleep tonight, wondering what’s in there.” He leaned forward to give Lily a wink. “Dr. Alexander found this one himself, so I have high hopes that it will prove genuine. Sometimes those Egyptian chaps plant fake antiquities and palm them off as genuine to unsuspecting buyers. I don’t think our Dr. Alexander is so easily hoaxed.”

“Would you mind if we took a closer look?” she asked. The sarcophagus would provide the perfect distraction from Remmington’s disturbing presence, and perhaps the opportunity to follow Sophie’s advice and act a little more like herself.

“Don’t mind a bit. There are papers and charcoal sticks laid out on the side table, if you’d like to make rubbings of the designs on the sides.” He patted his rounded stomach. “If you two will excuse me, I’m off to find a plate of dinner.”

Lord Holybrook left for the buffet, while Lily and Remmington made their way to the sarcophagus. The stone box was about eight feet tall, four feet wide and deep; large enough to accommodate the mummiform that was hopefully inside.

Lily ran her fingertips over a seal on one side. “He’s right. These are either Fifth Dynasty, or a very convincing fake.”

“These little drawings are hieroglyphics?”

She looked up to watch Remmington examine one of the seals just above her head. “Very good examples of hieroglyphics. Oh, I do hope there is a mummiform and mummy inside. Imagine looking upon someone who lived thousands of years ago. What a find this would be!”

“Do you mean to tell me there’s a body inside this thing?”

“This is the outer casing for the Egyptians’ version of a coffin. Of course there’s a body inside. That is, if we’re lucky.”

The look he gave her was one of mock horror. “I had no idea you were so ghoulish, Lady Lillian. Gads. You’ve dragged me out here to a nest of grave robbers.”

His humor surprised her, and she gave him a genuine smile. “It isn’t the same thing and you know it.”

“Hm. I’m not so sure. Somehow I don’t think this poor chap envisioned an opening party at Lord Holybrook’s country house when he was laid to rest.” He leaned forward to take a closer look at the hieroglyphics on the seal above her. “Do these drawings mean anything?”

Lily took a cautious glance around the room as she leaned toward him, her voice hushed. “Those are the hieroglyphics that Sophie told you about.” He gave her a blank look. “Most people think they are merely decorations, but they actually form an alphabet. It is much different from our alphabet, and I don’t have all the symbols deciphered yet, but I’m very close.” She straightened and returned her attention to the seal. “It’s very frustrating to know the answer to something, and not be able to tell anyone that there is even a question. This is too close to my work for Sir Malcolm to let anyone know of my discovery. Except Sophie,” she qualified. “But she refuses to present my theories to the Society as her own. They are fairly complex and she’s afraid she will muddle them up. We’ve discussed the issue at length, and I’m thinking about writing an anonymous letter to Dr. Alexander and enclosing my notes.”

“Don’t do it,” he warned. “You are asking for trouble. I’m sure it is a hard secret to keep, but I don’t want you to do anything that might endanger yourself. With letters and notes in your handwriting, anyone might connect the work to you.”

She made a noncommittal sound, then bent down to examine the next seal. Remmington grasped her elbow and pulled her around to face him. “I want your promise that you will not send that letter to anyone.”

“It is a great discovery,” she argued, even though she knew his concerns were well-founded. “The world should know the truth about these writings.”

“The world has been ignorant about hieroglyphics for thousands of years. A few more will do no one any harm, and might very well save you from it.”

“Oh, all right.” It irritated her to know he was right. “You have my promise, even though I find your arrogance annoying. You might consider phrasing your orders in the form of a request the next time.”

Having won the argument, he gave her a charming smile. “I will take that under consideration, my lady.”

Until he smiled at her, Sophie’s plan had progressed wonderfully. She turned away before she could feel the effects of that smile. “Because of you, I might be the only one who will ever know the name of the woman who is very probably inside this sarcophagus, or the meaning of the lurid curses that are written all over this thing. If there is any truth in them, poor Dr. Alexander will not live a very long or productive life.”

“What do they say?”

She gave him a smug look and wagged her finger at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I am afraid I’ve promised to keep my knowledge a secret.”