To Love a Wicked Scoundrel (7 page)

‘Lily, how many times have I warned you never to talk to strangers? We are not in Wiltshire. This is a very large city. All types of libertines and blackguards may be lurking in the shadows. Dangerous men who lack morals and tempt disaster are hiding everywhere ready to deceive any trusting young lady.’

He bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a smile at the dreadful picture Isabelle drew with her words. While the underlying message was one worth championing, he doubted it necessary to portray him as the worst kind of threat.

Lily glanced from one adult to the other with a perplexed look on her face. ‘This is my friend,’ the child said in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘He gave me a button simply because I admired it.’

Isabelle arched a narrow brow in his direction and challenged him with her eyes. Lord, he’d rather challenge her with his body.

The child continued rightfully unaware of the sparks that danced between the two adults above her head. ‘My name is Lily and this is my sister, Isabelle.’

‘I am very pleased to meet you. I am Lord Highborough. I live over there on the corner.’ He waved in the general direction of Park Lane as he glanced from child to the adult. ‘But I believe you know that already.’ Isabelle’s skin warmed to a lovely shade of pink. He crouched down to Lily’s height and questioned her in a discreet tone. ‘I thought I saw your sister with you two days past. How many sisters do you have, little one?’

Lily giggled and offered him another sweet smile. ‘Just one.’ She raised her palm beneath his nose. ‘Do you like my feather? Do you think it is from a wagtail? There is a nest in the tree. Won’t you come and see?’ She grasped his hand and he followed obediently.

The three of them stood under the bergamot tree in silence as Lily stood on her toes in an effort to see inside the bird nest buried in the V of two low-lying branches. Meanwhile Isabelle looked utterly fetching in a simple ivory gown with chocolate brown trim and short puffed sleeves. The close-fitted bodice outlined her enticing curves and he took in her delicious profile with pleasure.

Grosvenor Square was a fashionable place. It made sense anyone visiting on holiday would choose to spend the day strolling the flower gardens. Con knew without a doubt that her viewing him in the window was a chance coincidence, but he would not waste the opportunity handed to him. He still did not know her full name, where she lived, or how she planned to spend her time while in London. And he wanted to know all of it, anything concerning Isabelle.

With little effort, he clasped Lily beneath the arms and hoisted her up to allow her to peer curiously into the nest on the bergamot branch.

‘There are eggs, Isabelle! Three little green eggs!’

He held the child securely, but his eyes never left the woman before him. A graceful smile curved her lips and her head tilted the smallest degree as she viewed her sister. Her beautiful hair, left unbound, fell in rippling auburn waves behind her. In that quiet moment, Con wished he could paint her portrait. He would always remember how she appeared in the waning sunlight that filtered through the branches.

‘Have you visited Hyde Park to see the upside-down tree?’ A brief flash of excitement lit Isabelle’s grey eyes then, almost as if she forgot herself. Quickly she re-established an expression of extreme patience. He gently placed Lily on the grass and continued as though he had received an answer to his original question. ‘Hyde Park is filled with all sorts of wonderful sites, but the weeping beech is a botanical oddity everyone should view at least once in their lifetime. It appears as if the tree grows from the ground upside down.’

Intrigued, Lily clasped her hands together and a wistful smile graced her face. Con suspected Isabelle shared the same excitement but he doubted she would ever confess the feeling. No matter. He had laid the bait, now he needed only to lure his prey forward. ‘I propose we go there tomorrow for a picnic, and I shall accompany both of you on your very first viewing of the upside-down tree – ’

Isabelle’s refusal overrode the end of his sentence. ‘Oh, no thank you, milord. We could never impose upon you.’

‘Oh, please.’ Lily’s soft plea would be hard to resist, but Isabelle would have none of it.

‘Perhaps another time. Now we really must be going. If you will excuse us, I am sure Lily’s mother is wondering what has happened to us. We merely intended to take the air.’

He watched as Isabelle grasped Lily’s hand in a firm hold and led her back to the pathway with brisk steps. Would she gift him with a glance over her shoulder, her fiery locks trailing behind her, the ends lifting in her wake? To his disappointment, she slipped out of sight as soon as the path curved. They could never hear his chuckle and that was more the reason he allowed a hearty laugh as he turned to make his way back.

Chapter Six

Isabelle mumbled the entire walk home. ‘
That
man is as vexing as he is handsome and a menace to females everywhere.’

‘What is the matter?’

‘Nothing at all, sweetling.’ She did not expect Lily to understand her infuriation and strove to lighten her tone, although her words continued in the same vein. ‘Insufferable, ridiculous man.’

She entered the drawing room, her sister in tow, and almost collided with Meredith who paced the carpet in front of the hearth.

It took few words of explanation to understand her stepmother’s worry. According to Lady Newby, invitations were sent for one of the largest balls of the season and while the Windlesham affair would not be held for two months, Meredith fretted she would not receive a card.

Meredith brushed away her daughter’s attempt to display the wagtail feather, and summoned a maid to take Lily into the kitchen for a snack. Isabelle removed her gloves and gauged which sensible words to share before her stepmother worked herself into a full-blown panic.

‘We have just arrived. You must give it a little time before your expectations climb so high.’

‘That could be true.’ Meredith’s woeful tone sounded too self-indulgent to be considered sincere. ‘But I will double my efforts to make acquaintances and participate in all social circles. By my doing, we live across the street from the most popular man in London.’ She jerked her gaze to the window. ‘I wish I could accompany the ladies who linger in the square but those dreadful flowers make me sneeze. If I dare to venture out there, I will look wretched in no time; my eyes red rimmed and my nose horribly runny.’

‘I doubt his lordship gives a care to the conspicuous women who mill about his corner. I suspect he hardly takes them seriously.’ A twinge of unbidden guilt chased her words but she refused to offer credence to the preposterous situation in the gardens.

‘In truth, I cannot depend upon your advice.’ Meredith’s tone expressed complete exasperation. ‘When you venture into the square, you actually look at the scenery, not the fashion and definitely not the gentlemen. So lost in your botanical explorations, I wonder if you see anything beyond the flowers in your path.’

An image of Lord Highborough’s flexed muscles beneath the fabric of his lawn shirt rose with startling clarity.
Flowers, indeed.
Meredith’s flippant remark struck a sensitive chord and all charity evaporated. She did not want to believe her stepmother meant the unkind words with intention, so she did her best to disguise the emotion in her voice in a practice born of habit. A change of subject was in order. ‘I plan to take Lily to Hyde Park tomorrow. The botanical sights promise to be uncommonly rare.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Meredith offered a distracted nod. ‘Enjoy the day. I must work harder to further my pursuit. I am having tea with three ladies I met at the Rochester ball. By association, if in no other way, I will obtain the Windlesham invitation. The event remains several weeks away. There is plenty of time for me to garner Lord Highborough’s attention, but a fool would take unnecessary chances. If I have not managed to attract him before then, it will be imperative I attend.’ She stopped pacing and placed a finger against her chin in deliberation. ‘I suppose you are right. It has been less than a week. It may take a little more effort on my part. You possess such a practical way of looking at things.’

With her stepmother mollified, Isabelle climbed the stairs to change her clothes and consider her spontaneous decision to visit Hyde Park in the morning. Certainly, it had nothing to do with Lord Highborough and his very blue eyes and charming likeability. He did seem at ease with Lily when he brought her up to discover the bird’s nest, but his goal was likely to disprove her immediate assumption he was a wicked seducer of women. If only when they stood together, she could ignore his delicious mouth, then she’d keep a thought in her head and manage a sensible conversation with the man.

She sat down on the corner of her bed with a sigh. Why would he choose to tease her with such persistence? In most ways, the male mind remained a mystery to her, although she did understand resentment and cruelty due to the years spent with her father. Lord Highborough’s jests were nothing like that. Somehow his cutting words managed to please, even while she knew he wished to get the better of her.

Isabelle fell backward and hit the mattress, deep in thought. She promised herself as she packed her luggage in Wiltshire, that were she to be dragged away from home she would embrace new experiences. Every adventure begins with a first step. And she
was
curious to see the upside-down tree. It mattered little how she came by the information.

However, the secrecy of it all made her incredibly uncomfortable. At least she’d effectively declined Lord Highborough’s invitation and therefore would be able to enjoy the park without preoccupation over another accidental meeting. Or worse, why when the overlong wisps of his hair edged over his collar he did not brush them back as she wished to do.

His hair
. How incredibly soft it must feel. Foolish thought, she chided. She brought herself up in a swift motion to ring for her maid and change her clothes for supper.

Janie was accustomed to her no-nonsense style and Isabelle was dressed for dinner, her hair in a tidy bun, in no time at all. When she came down the stairs, she found Meredith seated near the front window. A fashion magazine lay open on her skirt but her focus strayed to the window twice in the time Isabelle crossed the room and sat in the chair beside her.

She drew her stepmother’s attention with a light touch to the arm. ‘I am glad you are here. I wished to speak to you concerning Lily.’

Meredith brought her eyes from the window. ‘What has my daughter requested now? A pet elephant? A trip to Paris?’

‘No, nothing at all.’ Isabelle shook her head to confirm Meredith misunderstood.

‘Very good.’ She dropped her gaze to the magazine on her lap. ‘Look at this exquisite design.’ She turned towards Isabelle with a smile on her face and held up the fashion plate, her index finger tapping the left page. ‘I cannot decide whether to have this gown made in amber or byzantium silk. They are my best colours and this is the latest design. With a more daring neckline, it would make a lasting impression.’

‘It is very pretty.’ Isabelle watched Meredith give the window another glance. ‘I am sure the modiste will accommodate you.’

‘Yes, I shall order it when next we shop. I think a silver underskirt would be the thing, just a tad longer than the hem. What a splendid gown it will be.’

Meredith continued to study the picture, a pleased gleam in her eye, and Isabelle prompted a return to the topic that concerned her. ‘Lily has kept very late hours since we’ve arrived in London and I worry that she is not getting enough rest. She appears tired soon after she wakes and sometimes wishes I lie down with her after luncheon, when usually it is she running circles around me all afternoon.’

Meredith flicked her gaze upward. ‘Posh, I wouldn’t think twice on it. If Lily wishes to nap more often, I relish the fact. It is the only time when the house is utterly quiet.’ She shook her head to dismiss the subject, then turned the page, and reversed the magazine to provide Isabelle with a view of another design. ‘Now this is the perfect gown for you. The square neckline will flatter your full bosom, yet show enough skin to charm any gentleman that asks you to dance.’ She narrowed her eyes and studied the sketch in deliberation. ‘Perhaps in a pale blue water silk. It would complement your colouring and bring out the natural blush of your skin.’

‘Thank you. It does sound lovely.’ She pushed to regain Meredith’s focus. ‘There are evenings when I hear Lily singing or telling stories far past her bedtime.’

‘Yes, she is a fanciful child, but I don’t see a cause for concern.’ Meredith offered her a tolerant grin. Then her eyes returned to the magazine on her skirt and she grinned in unabashed pleasure. ‘If you are going to worry about something, worry about fashion. It is ever changing. You know, we could have scallop shaped sleeves added to this dress. It would be magnificent.’

When Isabelle made no reply, Meredith continued. ‘I think you should heed your own advice and put a little more effort into your pursuit of adventure. This gown would fortify your cause.’

Meredith’s words persisted the next morning when Isabelle and Lily set out for Hyde Park. The sky was overcast, but the dull clouds did not dampen their excitement. Lily carried a velvet bag for keeping safe all the treasures she hoped to find and her animated chatter filled the carriage as they rode through the city streets.

Meredith slept in and did not see them off. Relieved, Isabelle considered what her stepmother would say were she to discover who had told them about the weeping beech and the spectacle of its strange growth. Had Meredith shared the same witty conversation with Lord Highborough as she? The lingering question excited and troubled her at the same time. Good heavens, she needed to stop her ridiculous behaviour. If only she could dismiss his words with the same ease with which she scolded herself for remembering them.

The evening they met in Lord Rochester’s study, Lord Highborough had called her hair magnificent. She’d never received a compliment as grand. No matter that his opinion did not signify, a tiny part of her brain insisted on repeating his words like a litany, even as Lily filled the carriage with chatter.