His Heart's Delight (6 page)

He’d spoken for her ears alone and she
responded with her usual “Eh?” but he could tell by the twitch of
her lips she understood him.

With a plea to the gods for inspiration he
turned to Christiana Lambert’s mother.

Mrs. Lambert did not appear overly surprised
at his identity. She accepted his bow with a curtsy of her own and
then turned to her daughter. “I have no need to introduce
Christiana, do I?”

Her tone was a blend of arch and vexed. There
were worse combinations, he decided. Christiana returned his bow
with a curtsy as formal as required. Her smile was gone and the
chill he had expected from her mother flowed from the daughter
instead.

Disdain did not become her. Her lips were
made for laughter. Her eyes could barely register the hauteur that
made her lithe body tense. They both made to speak, but Mrs.
Lambert spoke over their greetings. “What a rogue you are, my lord,
to make my daughter the subject of such singular attention.”

Arch had given way to coy. He knew where this
game was headed. She would voice her displeasure but displeasure
only. There was no disapproval. Morgan suspected his suit would be
welcome. He glanced at his grandmother, who was watching with a
raised eyebrow and a small smile. No help from that quarter. Devil
take it.

He took Mrs. Lambert’s hand. “My apologies to
you and your daughter, ma’am.” He thought about telling her the
truth. That he had been lost in the card game, but she might
construe that as an insult to her daughter.

The larger truth, that he had no wish for a
wife, was equally unacceptable. The game he was playing with James
would be pointless if it became common knowledge. And he would
wager his newest coat that discretion was not among Mrs. Lambert’s
virtues.

She rescued him again. “La, my lord, if you
find Christiana so appealing then you must call on us and meet my
other daughter. Joanna is a year older and even Christiana would
agree, by far the loveliest young woman to make her come-out this
Season.”

Christiana stood behind her mother, almost
directly in his line of vision. As her mother continued her
ingratiating monologue, he could almost swear he saw sympathy in
Miss Lambert’s eyes. Then she shrugged lightly and turned toward
his grandmother, leaving him trapped in a one-sided conversation
with her mama.
Please, Grandmama, do not you try to help me
smooth this over. Let this conversation with Mrs. Lambert be
considered punishment enough.

~ ~ ~

Let him suffer,
Christiana thought. He
was responsible for the ruin of her day. She’d been subjected to
Mama’s harangue for the last endless hour and had heard quite
enough.

Her mother was brilliant, really. She had not
seemed at all surprised to see Lord Morgan here. Who had told her
of his connection with the duchess?

True, even from home, Mama had followed the
Season these last few years, but her attention was centered solely
on courtships and engagements. According to Peter, this was the
first year that Lord Morgan had shown a similar inclination.

The duchess was watching the cat and mouse
game with obvious glee, but pointed to the seat beside her. “Sit
here.” With her back to her grandson, she gave Christiana her full
attention.

“We will let him make his explanations. I
have no doubt that he can charm his way into her good graces.”

Christiana did not doubt it either, but
merely nodded. It would not do at all to show any concern.

“You have an older sister?”

The duchess’s tone showed nothing more than
polite interest and Christiana hoped that was all it was. As much
as she would like to distract the duchess from consideration of her
as a possible match for her grandson, Joanna and Lord Morgan would
not suit at all. “Yes, I do have an older sister. I would not like
today’s gossip to harm her chances this Season.”

“Not to worry. It will be forgotten in a day.
As we speak some other young man is doing something equally
half-witted that will fill tomorrow’s columns.”

Christiana hoped it was true.

“In my day, the gossip was so much more
entertaining, but I imagine that was because I was a part of it.
Every smile meant something then.” She held out her hand. “And no
lady was without her fan. If we could not speak our thoughts out
loud then our fan could speak for us.”

It was hard to envision the woman before her
as an ingenue with all the same fears and worries she had. But then
there was little possibility that the duchess’s worries were
anything like hers. “Did you make the duke’s acquaintance during
your first Season?”

“It was an arranged marriage.” She spoke
matter-of-factly and then leaned closer to Christiana. “Only no one
ever told me.” The duchess looked at Christiana intently. “There is
nothing more rewarding than a happy marriage.”

Christiana nodded. Her own dreams were rooted
in that belief.

The old lady tapped Christiana’s hand with
her fan. “Never lie to me, girl. I can not abide liars.”

Christiana was startled at the abrupt change
of subject. “I beg your pardon, ma’am?” When had she lied to the
duchess? She had agreed marriage was rewarding and she did, indeed,
believe that. Perhaps Mama had said something. She glanced toward
her mother and the duchess laughed. “She ain’t the lying sort, not
your mama. She lives to make the world spin her way and that’s as
truthful as you can be. For that is what we all wish, is it
not?”

Christiana considered the question. “I
suppose so.”

“Of course it is,” the duchess insisted. “And
the bigger our world becomes the more difficult it is to manage.
Now that’s something your mama does not realize.”

Christiana tried to restrain her smile. It
was so true, but she did not want to be disloyal.

“She thinks with a little nudge here or a
small hint there she could manage the world and everyone in it,
including that villain Napoleon.”

The dowager let out a breathy laugh and
Christiana let her own smile show. The image of her mother managing
England’s greatest enemy was a picture made for the cartoonists of
the day.

“But Napoleon will not be welcome in our
drawing rooms any time soon, so my grandson Morgan will have to
do.”

They both looked at her mother as she
continued to prattle on to a politely attentive Morgan. At the
moment he was bearing the full brunt of her managing ways with
seeming equanimity. Christiana would have been embarrassed by her
mother’s behavior if the duchess had not made it sound like the
most natural thing in the world.

“Now this grandson”—she gestured to
Morgan—“he never lies either. Just plays his cards too close to his
chest, that one. He almost never lets on what is going round in his
brain.” She looked fondly at him and Christiana liked the obvious
affection.

“’Tis time he starts looking for a wife. The
foolish boy thinks he will be as lucky in love as he has been in
cards and that may be true, but no one is so lucky that the first
person he dances with can claim his heart and he hers.”

Was she being warned? The duchess needed to
know that no warning was necessary or else she would be perilously
close to the liar she had been warned not to be. “Your Grace, if
you believe so strongly in honesty then there is something I must
tell you.”

Christiana spoke impulsively and then
recalled her promise to her father. But everything she had heard of
the duchess convinced her that confiding in her would not be a
mistake. She would not have the ear of so many if she were rash in
her gossip. “May I confide in you, ma’am?”

The duchess hesitated, glanced at her nephew,
and then back.

The hesitation convinced Christiana all the
more.

She watched her grandson as she spoke.
“Morgan would not suit you at all, my dear,” she whispered from
behind her fan lest he hear.

Christiana responded with her rippling laugh
and spoke her previous thought aloud. “Oh, I know. I agree with you
completely.” She leaned closer to the old lady. “I have no idea
what possessed him to behave as he did last night, but it can
hardly be that he was so taken with me that he could not
countenance dancing with another. It was a lovely dance, ma’am, but
no dance can be that powerful.”

She bit her lip as she spoke the words, not
entirely sure she was speaking the truth. It had been a wonderful
experience. Despite the roomful of people she had seen no one but
him. His eyes held hers, his hand touched hers and hinted, hinted
at something she could feel even though she could not put it into
words. It was a shame Richard did not like dancing.

“Yes, my girl, I can see that you are
rethinking that silly statement. A dance is as powerful as a
skilled lover can make it. And Morgan is just that, Christiana. He
would as soon seduce you as dance with you.”

Christiana could feel the color rising in her
cheeks.

“Stop the blush, gel. You waste it on
me.”

Christiana took a moment to compose herself
and once again looked at her mother and found that Lord Morgan was
staring at her and not her mother. He’d maneuvered Mama so that it
would appear he was giving her his full consideration, but with the
slightest movement of his eyes, Christiana had all his attention.
He was smiling slightly. Her mother would think it was at what she
was saying. Christiana knew it was her blush that amused him. Of
course that made her blush anew.

She turned in her chair slightly so that he
could not so easily see her face and spoke to the duchess in
earnest appeal. “Please, ma’am, let me explain.”

The woman nodded slowly and Christiana rushed
on, explaining her attachment to Richard, his commitment to
military service, and her promise to her parents. “So you see, if
you feel that Lord Morgan should find a suitable
parti,
I am
not the one. You are right we would not suit, but even before that
practical consideration, my heart is already given.

“The Season is well underway for we were late
to Town. I would hate to distract him from a more appropriate
match. I am in a very awkward situation as I have promised not to
make my attachment known.”

The duchess nodded thoughtfully and then
tapped Christiana’s arm with her fan. “I will be your ambassador,
my dear. I will be as discreet as your papa would wish.” She sighed
and her shoulders drooped. In that one gesture she turned frail and
disappointed. “Morgan would not suit you at all, I know that is
true, still I was rather hoping for a mild flirtation. It would be
a first step in the proper direction. You could be the making of
him.”

Christiana did not understand. She looked
toward Lord Morgan. He had been in Town for years and years and she
was but newly arrived. “How could I teach him anything, ma’am?”

“You could have reminded him what it is to be
young and happy. He lost his youth and happiness far too soon, far
too soon. And has tried to make up for it in all the wrong
places.”

He lost his happiness far too soon.
Christiana tore her eyes from him and looked at the duchess, who
was watching her with an intensity that was at odds with her solemn
face. She leaned closer to hear another tale, when Mrs. Lambert
approached them and destroyed the mood for confidences.

Christiana was uncomfortably aware that they
had overstayed their twenty-minute call. She was sure it would take
her mother another ten minutes to say farewell.

“I am so grateful, Your Grace,” Mrs. Lambert
began in farewell.

The duchess smiled and nodded with all the
charm of a hostess used to guests who made an endurance contest of
her hospitality. The embarrassment that Christiana had suppressed
before took firm root in her mind, coloring her cheeks and testing
her patience.

Mrs. Lambert spoke on one long incredible
breath. “We are to Mr. Philips’s gallery this afternoon. But first
we must hurry home to collect my daughter Joanna and another friend
who are to accompany us.”

She finally paused long enough for the
duchess to interrupt her mama’s farewell. The old lady did it with
such finality, Christiana wondered if she dared copy it. There was
nothing left but to curtsy and leave.

~ ~ ~

Blissful silence. Morgan stood facing his
grandmother and absorbed the absolute lack of sound. It was a gift
from the gods.

When the silence had stretched to a full
minute, the duchess invited comment by simply raising her
eyebrows.

Morgan spoke very quietly. “I am telling you,
Grandmama, that if I had ever been more than mildly tempted to form
an attachment with Miss Christiana Lambert, that conversation with
her mother put an end to it. Conversation? It was a monologue.”

Her lips twitched but she did not encourage
the subject. “The daughter reminds me of Maddie and your
mother.”

And so it was with his grandmother, no
subject off limits. “Where are your spectacles, Grandmama? Her hair
is dark, not blond. For Miss Lambert everything is anticipation and
delight. Maddie observed life. Miss Lambert embraces it.”

“Not the looks, no, Morgan. That inclination
to trust, to see things as magic. Your mother was the same.”

Grandmother might welcome the reminder, but
he did not. He lived with the fact that Maddie had never known her
first Season, had never walked in Hyde Park.

“Do not dwell on it, Grandmama, it does no
good.”

She rapped his hand. “I am not being morbid.
Some days I am more a part of their world than this one. They are
not gone so much as waiting.” She recalled herself to the present
before Morgan could grow seriously worried about her state of mind.
“You should not have singled the girl out the way you did,
boy.”

“Yes, it was stupid, but I assure you, not
intentional.” He bent closer. “And surely even you will agree that
a morning of Mrs. Lambert is punishment enough, especially when her
delightful daughter was in the same room and I was allowed nothing
more than the briefest of hellos.”