Three Weeks With Lady X(32)

       
           



       

She shook her head.

"You never told your godmother? No one instituted a search for the jewelry?"

"No."

Thorn's disbelief must have shown in his face.

"Adelaide was wracked with guilt after my parents' death," India said  defensively. "Because she hadn't visited in more than a decade, she had  no idea about the state of our house."

"It wouldn't have taken much to hire a Bow Street Runner to look into  the matter," Thorn pointed out, making a mental note to do just that  himself. If the Runner found nothing to report, India need never know.

"My godmother lives in a cheerful world. She works hard to keep it that  way. And she deserves it, because her marriage wasn't very happy."

Thorn was on the verge of saying something extremely impolitic about  godmothers who didn't protect their godchildren, when India gently  pushed away his arm and rose to her feet.

"I must wash my face before Rose returns." But she turned around at the  door and gave him one of her smiles, the kind that shone from her eyes.  "You're such a good friend, Thorn," she said. "Thank you."

She left him thinking about the ways he wasn't a good friend.

Not at all.

Upstairs, India stared at herself in the glass. Her hair was disheveled,  her eyes were swollen, and her throat felt scratchy from all that  crying, but all the same . . . she felt a weight had lifted. It was  stupid, but it was a relief to have told Thorn. The cold, squeezed part  of her heart had eased.

He made her feel warm and safe for the first time in years. Years and years.

Rose was back in the sitting room by the time India returned. "I must  leave you both," India said. "Fleming will wish to consult with me  before the duke and duchess arrive tomorrow."

Rose looked a little disappointed, but she hopped to her feet and  dropped a curtsy. India knelt down in front of her. "You do understand  why you must stay in this little house, don't you?"

"It would be disadvantageous for Mr. Dautry's plans to marry Miss  Rainsford if her mother believed I was a child born out of wedlock. So I  shall stay out of sight."

"You're very gracious," India said, putting a hand lightly on Rose's head.

"I met Miss Rainsford," Rose said.

"She is a charming young woman," India replied.

"She told me that she doesn't care to read."

India paused, then rallied. "Then you can read to her, just as you read  to Antigone. I think you'll be comfortable here. I shall stop by every  day and see if there's something I can bring you and Antigone."

"Mr. Twink and I are working on English grammar, because he says it's  important to learn that before turning to Greek," Rose reported.

India felt a little pulse of jealousy, which was entirely absurd.

She glanced over Rose's head. "Thorn, will you return to the house before supper?"

He shook his head. "I'll stay with Rose as long as I can, if only to  make sure that Twink doesn't drown her in past participles."

India had no idea what those were, so she merely nodded.

"Don't forget to hunt out a better gown for tomorrow, India," he ordered.

She rolled her eyes.

"I think Lady Xenobia looks quite nice," Rose said.

"She looks like a nice nun," Thorn said. "She needs to go a different direction in order to catch Vander."

"Why do you sometimes call each other India and Thorn, and other times,  Lady Xenobia and Mr. Dautry?" Rose demanded. "It isn't proper."

"We're quite good friends," Thorn said easily. "The best of friends, in truth."

India felt a wobbly smile on her mouth. He was right, of course. She had no other friend like him in the world.

" ‘Informality is the vice of the masses,' " Rose announced.

"Hell's bells, who told you that?" Thorn asked.

"My former tutor, Mr. Pancras," Rose said.

Thorn snorted. "That man is quickly becoming my worst enemy."

"If people call me Rose, and you Thorn, then we are Rose and Thorn." The  child curled her lip in disdain. "I prefer Mr. Dautry. It's far more  dignified."

India smiled at her. "I like Rose and Thorn."

"I do not agree," Rose replied, quite politely. "But I realize that I am too young to be heard on the subject."

At that, Thorn burst out laughing, and India slipped out of the house while he was tickling his ward.





Chapter Eighteen

Late that afternoon, India finished the final preparations for the  arrival of the guests. The Duke and Duchess of Villiers were due to  arrive in the morning, with Lord Brody, Lady Rainsford, and Laetitia  following in the afternoon or early evening. It seemed that Lord  Rainsford would not come at all; Adelaide had discreetly confirmed that  the lord and lady were only rarely to be found under the same roof.                       
       
           



       

All chambers were aired and ready; flowers would be placed in each room  first thing in the morning. Between India, Fleming, and the housekeeper,  they had planned the week like a military operation.

"The duchess will serve as Mr. Dautry's hostess," India reminded  Fleming, checking through a list of wines that would be offered.

"Yes, my lady," the butler said.

"I suppose there will be any number of crises, and you may come to me if  you must. But please make sure that the other guests don't know,  Fleming."

"Absolutely not, my lady. Lady Adelaide will take supper in her room again tonight," Fleming informed her.

India's exhaustion fell away. That meant she and Thorn would dine alone,  without a chaperone. Adelaide's conclusion that the two of them needed  no chaperoning was erroneous, but India had not objected.

Beginning tomorrow, there would be no more kissing-or, for that matter,  weeping-in Thorn's arms. Once Lala entered the house, India would revert  to being merely a family friend.

But for tonight . . . a prickling excitement rushed over her. Thinking  about the moment when Thorn had caught her up and taken her mouth  without even asking sent a wash of heat down her legs.

Neither of them was betrothed. Yet. Tonight, no matter how improper,  they could still kiss. She started up the stairs with unbecoming haste  and forced herself to slow down. When Marie arrived, she requested a  bath. She stayed in the bath a good ten minutes longer than she wished,  because the only thing she really wanted was to rush downstairs and find  Thorn.

To talk to him.

Or, perhaps, not to talk.

By all rights, she should wear a simple gown to supper and save her more  seductive clothing for the arrival of Lord Brody. But instead, she put  on her most becoming gown. It was the color of the pearly inside of a  seashell, with a low drawstring bodice and a light overskirt of loosely  woven linen that pulled away in front.

She felt naughty in it. Not prudish or old-maidish.

Marie helped her put on a pair of slippers whose heels would put her  head just at Thorn's shoulder. At last India descended, telling herself  that she would allow a single kiss. Or maybe two kisses. But no more.

Fleming stood at the bottom of the stairs. "Lady Xenobia," he said,  bowing. "Mr. Dautry is waiting for you just outside." He pushed the  front door open for her.

Of course. They would eat in the dower house with Rose. There would be  no kisses. It was silly that India felt such a crushing sense of  disappointment.

Thorn was leaning against the stone lion at the edge of the drive,  waiting for her. "Rose is surrounded by paper dolls," he said once she  joined him. "I have been informed that my presence is neither required  nor particularly desired."

"I thought we would dine with her," India said.

He took her arm, and they began walking not toward the dower house but  in the other direction altogether, away from the house and down the  hill. "Clara has a dab hand with a pair of scissors, and Rose is happy,"  he said. "I thought that perhaps in all your frenzied attention to  Starberry Court you missed the fishing hole."

"I do not care for fishing," India said, "particularly not when I'm wearing one of my favorite gowns."

"We shan't actually fish," Thorn said, looking surprised. "I don't even own a pole."

"And this is most improper," India added.

"I thought we put that nonsense away, at least between ourselves."

"You don't understand. The house is full of servants now. We could truly be compromised if anyone saw us by ourselves at dusk."

He kept walking, drawing her forward. "Who would see us?"

"Any of the servants-and gossip of that nature would spread like fire  through London. My reputation would be ruined. In fact, we must return  to the house immediately."

Thorn just grinned. "Don't worry. I would tell Vander that nothing happened between us."