Four In Hand (Regencies 2)

He knew it was the right excuse to offer, for her mind immediately reasserted itself. “Oh, dear,” she sighed, disappointment ringing clearly in her tone, deepening Max’s smile. “I suspect you’re right”

“I know I’m right,” he said, straightening and sitting her upright. “Come, let’s get you respectable again.”

———

As soon as she felt sufficiently camouflaged from her guardian’s eye by the gorgeously coloured throng, Lizzie Twinning made her way to the ballroom window further from the door. It was the meeting place Sarah had stipulated where Sir Ralph was to await further instructions. He was there, in a dark green domino and a black mask.

Lizzie gave him her hand. “Good!” The hand holding hers trembled. She peered into the black mask. “You’re not going to let Arabella down, are you?”

To her relief, Sir Ralph swallowed and shook his head. “No. Of course not. I’ve got my carriage waiting, as Miss Sarah suggested. I wouldn’t dream of deserting Miss Arabella.”

Despite the weakness in his voice, Lizzie was satisfied. “It’s all right,” she assured him. “Arabella is wearing a rose-pink domino. It’s her favourite colour so you should recognise it. We’ll bring her to you, as we said we would. Don’t worry,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze, “it’ll all work out for the best, you’ll see.” She patted his hand and, returning it to him, left him. As she moved down the ballroom, she scanned the crowd and picked out Caroline in her aqua domino waltzing with a black domino who could only be their guardian. She grinned to herself and the next instant, walked smack into a dark blue domino directly in her path.

“Oh!” She fell back and put up a hand to her mask, which had slipped.

“Lizzie,” said the blue domino in perfectly recognizable accents, “what were you doing talking to Keighly?”

“Martin! What a start you gave me. My mask nearly fell. Wh…what do you mean?”

“I mean, Miss Innocence,” said Martin sternly, taking her arm and compelling her to walk beside him on to the terrace, “that I saw you come into the ballroom and then, as soon as you were out of Max’s sight, make a beeline for Keighly. Now, out with it! What’s going on?”

Lizzie was in shock. What was she to do? Not for a moment did she imagine that Martin would agree to turn a blind eye to their scheme. But she was not a very good liar. Still, she would have to try. Luckily, the mask hid most of her face and her shock had kept her immobile, gazing silently up at him in what could be taken for her usual innocent manner. “But I don’t know what you mean, Martin. I know I talked to Sir Ralph, but that was because he was the only one I recognized.”

The explanation was so reasonable that Martin felt his sudden suspicion was as ridiculous as it had seemed. He felt decidedly foolish. “Oh.”

“But now you’re here,” said Lizzie, putting her hand on his arm. “So I can talk to you.”

Martin’s usual grin returned. “So you can.” He raised his eyes to the secluded walks, still empty as the dancing had only just begun. “Why don’t we explore while we chat?”

Lately, Lizzie had been in the habit of refusing such invitations but tonight she was thankful for any suggestion that would distract Martin from their enterprise. So she nodded and they stepped off the terrace on to the gravel. They followed a path into the shrubbery. It wended this way and that until the house was a glimmer of light and noise beyond the screening bushes. They found an ornamental stream and followed it to a lake. There was a small island in the middle with a tiny summer-house, reached by a rustic bridge. They crossed over and found the door of the summer-house open.

“Isn’t this lovely?” said Lizzie, quite enchanted by the scene. Moonbeams danced in a tracery of light created by the carved wooden shutters. The soft swish of the water running past the reed-covered banks was the only sound to reach their ears.

“Mmm, yes, quite lovely,” murmured Martin, enchanted by something quite different. Even Lizzie in her innocence heard the warning in his tone but she turned only in time to find herself in his arms. Martin tilted.her face up and smiled gently down at her. “Lizzie, sweet Lizzie. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

Lizzie’s eyes grew round. Martin’s arms closed around her, gentle yet quite firm. It seemed unbelievable that their tightness could be restricting her breathing, yet she found herself quite unable to draw breath. And the strange light in Martin’s eyes was making her dizzy. She had meant to ask her sisters for guidance on how best to handle such situations but, due to her absorption with their schemes, it had slipped her mind. She suspected this was one of those points where using one’s wits came into it. But, as her tongue seemed incapable of forming any words, she could only shake her head and hope that was acceptable.

“Ah,” said Martin, his grin broadening. “Well, you’re so very beautiful, sweetheart, that I’m afraid I can’t resist. I’m going to kiss you again, Lizzie. And it’s going to be thoroughly enjoyable for both of us.” Without further words, he dipped his head and, very gently, kissed her. When she did not draw back, he continued the caress, prolonging the sensation until he felt her response. Gradually, with the moonlight washing over them, he deepened the kiss, then, as she continued to respond easily, gently drew her further into his arms. She came willingly and Martin was suddenly unsure of the ground rules. He had no wish to frighten her, innocent as she was, yet he longed to take their dalliance further, much further. He gently increased the pressure of his lips on hers until they parted for him. Slowly, continually reminding himself of her youth, he taught her how pleasurable a kiss could be. Her responses drove him to seek more.

Kisses were something Lizzie felt she could handle. Being held securely in Martin’s arms was a delight. But when his hand closed gently over her breast she gasped and pulled away. The reality of her feelings hit her. She burst into tears.

“Lizzie?” Martin, cursing himself for a fool, for pushing her too hard, gathered her into his arms, ignoring her half-hearted resistance. “I’m sorry, Lizzie. It was too soon, I know. Lizzie? Sweetheart?”

Lizzie gulped and stifled her sobs. “It’s true!” she said, her voice a tear-choked whisper. “They said you were a rake and you’d want to take me to bed and I didn’t believe them but it’s true.” She ended this astonishing speech on a hiccup.

Martin, finding much of her accusation difficult to deny, fastened on the one aspect that was not clear. “They—who?”

“Sarah and Bella and Caro. They said you’re all rakes. You and Max and Lord Darcy and Lord Denbigh. They said there’s something about us that means we attract rakes.”

Finding nothing in all this that he wished to dispute, Martin kept silent. He continued to hold Lizzie, his face half buried in her hair. “What did they suggest you should do about it?” he eventually asked, unsure if he would get an answer.

The answer he got was unsettling. “Wait.”

Wait. Martin did not need to ask what for. He knew.

———

Very much later in the evening, when Martin had escorted Lizzie back to the ballroom, Max caught sight of them from the other side of the room. He had been forced to reassess his original opinion of the youngest Twinning’s sobriety. Quite how such a youthful innocent had managed to get Martin into her toils he could not comprehend, but one look at his brother’s face, even with his mask in place, was enough to tell him she had succeeded to admiration. Well, he had warned him.