A Secret Love (Cynster 5)

She'd never been able to decide if she reacted to him as he did to her, or if her aggravation arose in response to his. Whatever the truth, their mutual affliction was something they'd learned to live with, learned to hide, and ultimately, learned to avoid. Neither would unnecessarily precipitate a prolonged encounter.

That was why, despite growing up as the

y had, despite their families being such close neighbors, he and she had never waltzed. They had danced-one country dance. Even that had left her breathless, waspish and thoroughly out of temper. Like him, she wasn't given to displays of temper-the only one able to provoke her, all but instantly, was he.

And that-all of that-explained why the countess had walked the porch of St. Georges. While she could not, absolutely, know his mind and thus be certain he would not have personally helped her, she imagined his instincts would have prompted him to help, but his reaction to her would have mitigated against it. Dealing with the company for her would mean seeing her frequently, often alone, which usually made the affliction worse. They'd met briefly only a few months ago-their affliction was stronger than ever. They'd reduced each other to quivering rage in under three minutes. She couldn't believe, if she asked for his help, that he'd break the habit of years and readily spend hours in her company-or, if he did, that it wouldn't drive them both demented.

More to the point, she hadn't been able to risk finding out. If she'd presented her problem to him as herself, only to have him send her to Montague, she couldn't then have appeared as the countess.

No choice.

He would never forgive her if he ever found out-ever learned she was the countess. He would probably do worse than that. But she'd had no choice-her conscience wasn't troubling her, not really. If there'd been any other sure way of getting him to help her without deceiving him, she would have taken it, but…

She was halfway asleep, drifting in the mists, her mind revisiting bits and pieces of their rendezvous, revolving more and more about that unnerving kiss, when she started awake. Blinking, eyes wide, she stared up at the canopy-and considered the fact that their decades-old mutual affliction had not reared its head that night.

Chapter 2

"Ala-the-aaa. Whoo-hoo! Allie! Can you pass the butter, please?"

Alathea focused-Alice was pointing across the luncheon table. Bemusedly glancing in that direction, her brain belatedly caught up with reality; lifting the butter dish, she passed it across.

"You're in a brown study today." Serena was sitting next to her, at the end of the table.

Alathea waved dismissively. "I didn't sleep all that well last night." She'd been so keyed up, primed to play the countess, desperate to secure Rupert's aid, that she'd rested not at all before her three o'clock appointment. And afterwards… after her success, after that kiss, after realizing… she shook aside the distraction. "I'm still not used to all the street sounds."

"Perhaps you should move to another room?"

Glancing at Serena's sweet face, brow furrowed with concern, Alathea clasped her stepmother's hand. "Don't worry. I'm perfectly happy with my room. It faces the back gardens as it is."

Serena's face eased. "Well… if you're sure. But now Alice has woken you up"-her eyes twinkled-"I wanted to check how much we can afford to spend on the girls' walking dresses."

Alathea gladly gave Serena her attention. Short, plump, and fashionably matronly, Serena was gentle and retiring, yet in the matter of her daughters' come-outs, she'd proved both shrewd and well up to snuff. With real relief, Alathea had consigned all the details of their social lives, including their wardrobes, to Serena, more than content to play a supporting role in that sphere. They'd been in town for just over a week and all was on track for a pleasant Season all around.

All she had to do was prove the Central East Africa Gold Company a fraud, and all would be well.

The thought returned her mind to its preoccupation-and to the man she'd recruited last night. She glanced around the table, viewing her family as if through his eyes. She and Serena discussed materials, trimmings, and bonnets, with Mary and Alice hanging on every word. At the table's other end, her father, Charlie, and Jeremy discussed the more masculine entertainments on offer. Alathea heard her father muse on the attractions of Gentleman Jackson's Boxing Saloon, a prospect guaranteed to divert both Charlie as well as his precocious younger brother.

Leaving Serena, Mary, and Alice debating colors, Alathea turned to the youngest member of the family, sitting quietly beside her, a large doll on her lap. "And how are you and Rose today, poppet?"

Lady Augusta Morwellan raised huge brown eyes to Alathea's face and smiled trustingly. "I had a lovely time in the garden this morning, but Rose here"-she turned the doll so Alathea could inspect her-"has been fractious. Miss Helm and I think we should take her for a walk this afternoon."

"A walk? Oh, yes! That's a lovely idea-just what we need." Having settled her sartorial requirements, Mary, all bouncing brown ringlets and glowing eyes, was ready for the next excitement.

"I'm starting to feel hemmed in with all these houses and streets." With fair hair and doelike eyes, Alice was more serious and contained. She smiled at Augusta. "And Augusta won't want us disturbing Rose with our chatter."

Augusta returned the smile sweetly. "No. Rose needs quiet." Too young to share in the excitement that had infected the rest of the family, Augusta was content to stroll the nearby square, her hand in Miss Helm's, and stare, wide-eyed, at all the new and different sights.

"Is there somewhere else we can go-other than the park, I mean?" Alice looked from Alathea to Serena. "We won't have our new dresses until next week, so it's probably better we don't go there too often."

"I would prefer that you didn't haunt the park anyway," Serena said. "Better to appear only a few times a week, and we were there yesterday."

"So where shall we go? It has to be somewhere with trees and lawns." Mary fixed her glowing gaze on Alathea's face.

"Actually…" Alathea considered-just because she'd successfully recruited her knight didn't mean she had to sit on her hands and leave all the investigating to him. She refocused on her stepsisters' faces. "There's a particular park I know of, quiet and pleasant, cut off from all the noise. It's very like the country-you can almost forget you're in London."

"That sounds perfect," Alice declared. "Let's go there."

"We're going to Bond Street!" Jeremy pushed back his chair.