Knave's Wager

“You are displeased with me,” he said. “I placed you in a difficult position. I am very sorry for it, but you left me no choice. I could hardly continue invisible forever. It is undignified.”

“And to make a nuisance of yourself is not?” Her tones were cold, but the gloved hand in his was very warm.

“Once, perhaps, it might have been. But I have been a nuisance so many years now, it has become a part of my character. You may have noted that perseverance forms another part.”

She did not respond.

“I believe it is accounted a virtue,” he prodded.

“When properly applied,” was the unencouraging reply. “Children are known to persevere in naughtiness. One wishes they applied the same industry to their lessons.”

“If you were my tutor, I should listen very attentively. What would you teach me, Mrs. Davenant?” he asked, has tones softening.

“How absurd. You are long past teaching.”

“No one is past teaching. Not if the lessons are pleasant ones.”

“Mine should bore you to extinction. You must have heard them a hundred times in your boyhood. Given the results, I collect you had been asleep most of the time.”

“Which is to say you mean to read me sermons.”

“Yes, I am very dull.”

“If you think so, it is you who want a lesson.” He pressed her closer and drew her into a turn. In the process, his thigh brushed hers and he felt her recoil.

“You are an excellent partner,” he said after a few moments’ throbbing silence. “You follow my lead instinctively. I feel as though we had been waltzing together all our lives. But then, I was certain it would be so. I have remarked more than once how graceful you are, even when you are furiously storming away. It is amazing how well acquainted I have become with your back.”

“In that case, there should be no need to conduct a physical examination, my lord. You will please to keep your hand in one place.”

“I beg your pardon,” he said. “My hands are unsteady. I seem to be nervous.”

“I should say impudent, rather.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” As though to prove it, he drew her into another perilous turn. He would have liked to keep whirling her until she grew too giddy to stand, and collapsed against him, but that was too crass. He had rather weaken her defences little by little.

A barely perceptible film of moisture was forming on her smooth white brow.

“You are breathless,” he said. “Ladies will fasten their stays so tightly.”

“I do not—” She bit her lip.

“No, I know you do not. I am acutely observant.”

A faint colour singed her slender neck.

“You do not require such artificial moulding,” he persisted. “Your waist is as slim and supple as a young girl’s.”

The colour heightened. “You please to mock me, my lord. I should not be surprised. Your manner from the first has been nothing but mockery.”

“You are hopelessly confused,” he said pityingly. “From the first I have admired everything about you, yet you insist upon being deaf, dumb, and blind to all my touching confessions.” He glanced down at her in sudden concern. “You aren’t deaf, are you? You were blind for a time, I realise, though assuredly not dumb—”

“I do not understand,” she said, “how you can chatter incessantly while you waltz. Your lungs must be prodigious strong.”

“When I am flirting, I have the strength of ten men. You will not flirt back, but that cannot stop me. The habit is too deeply ingrained. I find a stunning woman in my arms, and I must flirt with her.”

“You have obviously confused me with some Incomparable. It is your lamentable eyesight, I daresay.”

“I hope not. You have no idea the inconvenience I was put to in order to get you in my arms so that I should be compelled to flirt with you.”

He saw the shadow of uneasiness flit across otherwise immobile features.

“You must not be alarmed for my health, Mrs. Davenant,” he said comfortingly. “I promise to make up for the exertion by lying abed very late tomorrow.”

Had Lilith suspected just how much the marquess learned about her during their one waltz, she would have been considerably more shaken than she was—and that was already too much.

She had wanted every iota of her rigid training to maintain a semblance of composure. A semblance only. Good grief—she had practically announced she did not wear stays! Not, she reflected bitterly as she sought a quiet comer of the ballroom, that there had been any need to inform him.

Before she could even begin to regain her equanimity, Lady Enders pounced upon her, canary ruffles jerking in agitation.

“Everyone is talking,” Rachel said.

“It is a social event. People are obliged to converse.”

“They are talking about you and Brandon. If I had been you, I should have been put completely out of countenance, with everyone staring so. To dance with the man—and of all dances, a waltz. I really do not understand, Lilith.”

What she meant was that she did not approve, though Rachel had not the audacity to tell her future sister-in-law that.

“I am not a green girl, Rachel. I do not require the sanction of Almack’s patronesses to waltz. In any event, it was one of them obliged me to. I suppose you would prefer I had offended Dorothea?”

“In your place, I should have pleaded a turned ankle.”

“In that case, I should not have been able to dance with Thomas later.”

“I am sure my brother would have been happy to support a necessary falsehood. A man in his position cannot wish his intended bride to be an object of speculation.”

“If that is so, perhaps he might spare a moment to his intended, instead of hiding away in the library talking politics with his colle

agues,” Lilith snapped. “I was left to deal with an awkward situation quite on my own, and chose not to insult the Russian ambassador’s wife.”

This was so unlike her cool, immovable self that Rachel stepped back a pace. “My dear Lilith,” she said placatingly, “I did not mean to question your judgement.”

There was a brief pause.

“I am sure you did not,” Lilith answered with something more like her customary chilly politeness. “Our Mends’ eagerness to make gossip of the most trivial matters distresses you, as it does me. All the same, I think we were wisest to disregard it.”

Though a large circle of masculine admirers had already begun to make great demands upon Cecily’s attention, she had sufficient of that article remaining to cultivate several feminine friends as well. Among these, the most agreeable was Anne Cieveson, whose mama, Lady Rockridge, happened to be Lord Robert’s first cousin on his papa’s side.

Lady Rockridge was a sensible, good-natured woman who presented daughters almost as continuously as Mrs. Davenant presented nieces. The two women were well-acquainted. They both respected and liked each other and had more than once traded chaperone duty. This was what Lady Rockridge was proposing on the day following Countess Lieven’s informal gathering, for Cecily was invited to join a small group of young people Lord and Lady Rockridge planned to escort to Astley’s.

In any other case, Lilith would have instantly agreed. This time, however, there were problems. For one, she was out of sorts, having slept poorly. For another, Lord Robert was to be one of the party and Lilith much doubted he was suitable company for Cecily.

His connexion with Lady Rockridge was a point in his favour. His mistress and his connexion with Lord Brandon were points against. Cecily’s behaviour the night of the opera must be considered as well—though Lilith was not entirely certain in what light to consider it, because the girl had offered no indication of infatuation since.

While Lilith did not list aloud these points for and against, Lady Rockridge must have guessed some of them, because she promptly ordered Cecily and Anne to take a turn in the garden.