Under the desk, Vanessa shook her head ruefully, amazed at her parent’s participation in a blatant prevarication. She was astounded that her usually sober father could hold his own in the mini-play he was enacting. Mr. Talverton’s performance drew a wry smile to her lips. It seemed he was a natural dissembler. He should have trod the boards. She leaned closer to the floor to better hear their dialogue through the narrow gap between the bottom of the wood panel end piece of the desk and the floor.
“Forgive me, Richard,” Hugh said. “You’d be right to consider me the veriest lobcock for my ill-chosen words.”
A sound suspiciously like a snort came from Mr. Wilmot. “Richard, you assured me—”
The library door opened abruptly, cutting off his words as he swung around to see who entered.
“Excuse me, dear,” Mrs. Mannion said sweetly, ignoring the dark scowl on Russell Wilmot’s face, “why don’t you gentlemen join us in the parlor?”
Her eyes flickered down, catching sight of white cloth figured with trailing flowers peeping out from under the desk. Her eyes opened wide. Vanessa? Though flustered and confused, she knew immediately her daughter would not be quick to forgive, if her hiding place were revealed.
Amanda Mannion’s eyes flew up and fixed upon Mr. Wilmot. She came toward him and hooked her arm in his, a stiff, broad smile on her face. “Come, sir, let’s provide an uplifting example and lead these two errant gentlemen to the parlor.” She pulled him forward, leaving him no recourse but to acquiesce gracefully. She patted his arm and strolled out of the room. “It is too bad Vanessa won’t join us. The child is dreadfully embarrassed by that bruise on her face. It is not that terrible, but she is adamant in her refusal to see anyone. She has been keeping to her room. Pouting, I think, poor dear. Oh, but just listen to me; my tongue is carrying on like a fiddlestick. If I’m not careful, you’ll soon be likening me to Mary Langley,” she said with a laugh, her voice fading from Vanessa’s hearing as she led Mr. Wilmot into the hall.
“I’ll follow behind you; just let me get my glass,” Vanessa heard Hugh say loudly.
She started to back out of her hidey-hole on her hands and knees, only to bump into Mr. Talverton’s shins and sit down on his foot. Mortification stained her cheeks cherry red, and she bolted upright just as he leaned down to assist her. Her head collided violently with his chin, and she toppled forward again as Hugh bit back an oath, a hand coming up to nurse his sore jaw.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered savagely while blinking back the tears caused by the sharp pain on the top of her head. She grasped the edge of the desk and pulled herself up.
“I wanted to be sure you were all right, but I didn’t expect you to wallop me,” he whispered back.
“What? I think, Mr. Talverton, you have the wrong end of things,” she declared, tenderly touching the sore spot on the top of her head.
They stood and glared at each other. Eventually, the humor of their attitude percolated through to Vanessa, and she started to giggle. Quickly she compressed her lips to stifle the sound. She waved a hand toward the door.
“You’d best join them before Mr. Wilmot becomes suspicious.”
“Becomes!” he retorted caustically. “I thought that was his natural state of being.”
She swallowed another laugh and pushed him toward the door. She was rapidly revising her impression of Mr. Talverton. Truly, he displayed wit, intelligence, and understanding, all traits she admired. If it weren’t for his unfortunate habit of causing her injury and embarrassment, she could even come to like the gentleman.
* * *
Adeline opened the French doors of the parlor and walked out onto the gallery overlooking the gardens. Trevor followed behind her and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. She turned to look up at him, a melancholy sadness touching her delicate features.
“What are we going to do, Trevor? Everyone believes you wish to marry Vanessa.” She gave a tight little laugh. “I even told Vanessa that last Friday.”
“I know,” he said softly, “and last Friday, I believed it, too. But then I thought I would never love another woman as I loved Julia, and I was looking for second-best, someone to be a companion to me and a mother to my children.”
He turned her around to face him, taking both her hands in his. “I cannot believe I was blind for so long.”
She pulled her hands from his and grasped the balcony railing. “This has all happened too fast. We must be mad."
"I realized that night at the theater that I loved you. I realized then it was a love that had been growing for some time, only in my blindness I didn’t see it for what it was.” He grinned. “Do you know when it hit me? It was when Wilmot touched Vanessa. I was angry, angrier than I can ever remember being. But what went through my mind was that my anger was like that of a brother. After Hugh’s antics, I looked down at you and it hit me with a hurricane’s force that if it had been you he touched, I would not have hesitated as I did. I would have milled him down immediately because I love you.”
“Oh, Trevor,” she said, smiling wistfully, “I knew the night of the Langley Ball when we danced. I don’t know why or how. I can’t explain it. I felt awful about the theater because Vanessa asked me to keep you occupied for the evening so she could allow Mr. Wilmot to be her escort. I felt, I don’t know, almost rebellious, for I knew Vanessa was busily comparing you and him. It was as if I could see her making up lists of the good points of both of you.”
He chuckled and gave her a little hug. “We’re both very lucky.”
“Yes,” she said slowly, then backed away a step and looked at him earnestly. “But we can’t tell anyone of our attachment yet, and you must continue to act as if you are courting Vanessa.”
He frowned but nodded. “I agree. Vanessa is ripe for marriage, but if her heart is not entangled, I don’t wish her to fall into Wilmot’s grasp. The man is up to something. I can smell it, but for the life of me I don’t know what it is."
"Father has been acting very strangely, too. He knows of the incident at the theater but has virtually ordered Vanessa to forgive Mr. Wilmot his transgression.”
“That doesn’t sound like Richard.”
“It’s true. He had a long talk with Vanessa about it yesterday.”
