And again, he blocked her, but this time he offered his arm. “Allow me to escort you, Miss Bening,” he said entirely too loud.
“This is not appropriate.” She struggled to keep her tone civil when she would much rather scream and rant at him. “Remember your station, my lord,” she said for his ears alone. “I am beneath it.”
He moved closer, still holding his arm for her to take. “I do not think so. I suggest you accept the offer of my arm because people are staring. Or is that what you wish?”
A quick glance revealed several patrons were indeed becoming quite interested in their conversation. Probably because Lord Raines not only blocked the door to prevent her exit but kept everyone else from leaving as well. An irritated huff escaped her as she took his arm. “Happy?”
“Quite.” He enraged her even more by adding a victorious wink. “Lady Sophie, Lady Ardsmere, would you care to join us?” he called out as he opened the door while bending his arm tight enough to keep Celia’s hand imprisoned in the crook of it. To escape, she would have to make a scene by yanking free, and he knew it.
Celia stood at his side and aimed an angry glare at Sophie and Frannie as they emerged from around the bookcase. “Traitors,” she accused under her breath as they passed in front of her. At least they both had the decency to duck their heads in a failed attempt at hiding their pride at the success of their treachery.
When she and Elias joined the others outside, the dowager met them, her happiness outshining them all. “What a fortuitous meeting, Lord Raines. Do join our outing, won’t you?”
Before Elias could reply, Celia spoke for him. “I am sure Lord Raines is busy with far more important matters than shopping.” She tried to release his arm, but before she could escape, he covered her gloved hand with his and held it firmly in place.
“I would be delighted to join you, Your Grace,” he said. “Shall we take my carriage?”
“But we are entirely too many,” Celia argued, frantic for an escape from this most uncomfortable development. “Even with Friedrich in the driver’s box, we are still five.”
“Nonsense,” her mother said. “Friedrich will bring our carriage with Lady Sophie and Lady Ardsmere. You and I will join Lord Raines for the lovely ride in his barouche that I had to forgo the other day. We shall all meet at Bond Street.” She turned to Sophie and Frannie. “Would that suit, my dears? Please say it does. After all, with two carriages, we shall have even more room for whatever treasures we find.”
“I think it a splendid idea, Your Grace.” Frannie curtsied while avoiding Celia’s fuming glare. “What a shame our mothers were trapped into attending Lady Bournebridge’s Venetian breakfast. They will be most jealous when they hear of our adventures that they missed.”
“Our outing is sure to be more enjoyable than any time spent with Lady Bournebridge.” Elias patted Celia’s hand again, then gave it an intimate squeeze.
“Release me,” she growled under her breath. She wished she could give his arm a painful pinch but knew it would fail through his coat sleeve.
“I will never release you, Miss Bening,” he said with an intense look that made it clear he was referring to something else entirely. “Let us be on our way, shall we?”
Sophie and Frannie deserted her once again, but did cast an apologetic glance her way as they hurried along with Friedrich back to the carriage.
A moment after he summoned his vehicle with a tip of his head, Lord Raines’s fine barouche pulled up beside them and came to a halt. His driver, Jamison, hopped down, gave a respectful bow, then opened the carriage door.
“Your Grace.” Elias helped the duchess into the carriage and watched to make sure she was safely seated. Then he turned and smiled at Celia. He held out his hand. “Miss Bening?”
“You are a true churl, my lord,” she said as she took his hand.
He smiled even broader, then leaned in close and whispered, “Such a sharp tongue, my fine lioness. I much prefer the way you used it in the library.”
Her cheeks burned so hotly, she knew she must look as if she had used an entire pot of rouge on each of them. She climbed into the carriage, but when she went to sit beside her mother, she discovered the seat blocked by the duchess’s cane and reticule. She scowled at the articles on the seat, then shifted her glare to her mother. “Your Grace?”
The duchess assumed a smug demeanor, then unleashed a grin that would rival any Cheshire cat. “Sit in the other seat, Celia. I do not wish to be crowded.”
Celia glared at her mother, willing her to move her things. The duchess’s eyes danced with a slyness befitting a most impudent child.
“Do be seated, Miss Bening,” Elias said. He motioned to the empty seat that faced her impossible mother.
Celia threw herself into it with a very unladylike huff, but she didn’t care. How could all of them—Mama, Sophie, and Frannie—turn against her? They knew she could not allow a closeness between herself and Lord Raines. The preservation ofalltheir carefully constructed lives forbade it. The idea of seducing the man to manipulate him had been a faulty one indeed. He was utterly intractable. And the devil of it was that she found herself even more drawn to him—almost painfully so.
He settled down beside her and intimately nudged his shoulder against hers. “Oh, I do beg your pardon, Miss Bening.” His demeanor shouted that he did not beg her pardon at all and would probably rub against her again if given half the chance.
“I am so glad we came upon you, Lord Raines,” the duchess said as they rolled along. “The more the merrier. Do you not agree?”
“Absolutely, Your Grace, and if you will forgive me for making a very personal observation, it lifts my heart to see you enjoying such good health today. Much improved over the last time I saw you.”
“It is indeed a glorious day, and I intend to enjoy it.” The dowager tapped the toe of Celia’s shoe with her cane. “Although there appears to be a little storm cloud among us.”
Celia allowed herself an exasperated huff before admitting that Mama was right. She needed to do better and not allow her frustrations to overshadow the gift of this day with her mother in such fine spirits. She offered an apologetic nod. “Forgive me, Your Grace. You are quite correct, and I shall remedy it immediately.” She waved her hand in front of her face, then snapped her fingers. “Your winds of happiness have chased the little storm cloud away, leaving nothing but sunshine in its place.”
