He had taken the time to change, of course, but there was something ofthe outdoors and exercise still about him. He was relaxed, and theexhilaration of the drive was still in his eyes.
Had he heard about his horse? she wondered. And what had happened topoor Robin? She could not believe he was just come from a scene of violentretribution.
He kissed his mother’s cheek and grinned at her. “You are blooming,Maman.We should force you to hold grand entertainments moreoften.”
“Silly boy. You are the last of my children to marry. I hope not to dothis kind of thing again.”
He was still smiling when he turned to Beth, but the warmth becameimpersonal. “Elizabeth. I hope you are not being run ragged by allthis.”
If this aloof tone was the best he could do, thought Elizabeth, theywere in the suds. “Of course not,” she said, assuming a lively manner.“But anyway, this all has the attraction of novelty for me, my lord. Inever realized the amount of hard work involved in celebrating awedding.”
“Only the wedding of the heir to a dukedom,” he said dryly. Beththought she detected a genuine dislike of pomp. How strange. More and moreLucien de Vaux was becoming a conundrum she very much wanted to solve.
“So after the wedding we can live quietly?” she queried.
He produced a creditably fond smile, but it covered implacable intent.“I hadn’t planned on it, no. We have the pride of the de Vaux to consider,my dear. Will you dislike a life of fashionable entertaining verymuch?”
The silent message was that her likes and dislikes carried no weightwith him at all. Oh God, thought Beth, they were back to their old ways.Quicksands indeed. They never said what they meant and never meant whatthey said.
She turned away, making a business out of pouring him some tea. “If Ido dislike it,” she said as she passed him the cup, “you will be sure tohear of it... my dear.”
After a startled moment he smiled in a genuine manner. “I fear I will .. . my sweet despot.” Cap that, his eyes said.
Beth was tempted but didn’t know where it would all end. The marquesswas not a man to bow out of a conflict. She contented herself withfluttering her lashes and aiming at him a sweet, hopefully simpering,smile. She had the satisfaction of seeing his lips twitch with genuinehumor.
Beth noted the duchess watching them with a misty smile and thought,don’t build on this too much, Your Grace. We are both learning well to beactors.
“I have brought you some eligible men,Maman,”said the marquess. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind! Of course not, you dear boy. There can never be too manyeligible men. Who? And where are they?”
“Amleigh, Debenham, and Beaumont. I’ve left them in the morning roomenjoying more substantial refreshment.”
The duchess frowned slightly, though there was a twinkle in her blueeyes. “The last time Lord Darius was here he attempted to build achampagne fountain. And Mr. Beaumont has always caused a great lack ofattention among the younger maids.”
“Well,” said the marquess turning sober, “he will doubtless be a focusof interest again but in a different way. He’s lost his left arm.”
The duchess mirrored his sobriety. “Oh, the poor man. How is he?”
“Well as always, really. And he manages nearly everything. He don’tlike to be fussed.”
“I’ll tell Gorsham,” said the duchess. “And I’ll go odds it will onlyincrease his attraction among the maids and every other female in thevicinity. I look to you to control your guests, Lucien.”
“Of course,Maman,”he said with a boyish grin. “I gather you wish this to bea devilish dull affair.”
His mother laughed. “Of course I do not. How would anyone believe itwasyourbetrothal ball if it went off smoothly, you wretched boy? Goaway and look to your friends before they find mischief.”
He kissed her cheek again before he left, but Beth only received aslight wave of the hand. She looked up to see the duchess studying herenigmatically. Nothing was said, however, and soon she was sent to herroom to prepare for the evening.
Laid out on her bed Beth discovered a beautiful gown, the one theduchess had ordered from London and that the marquess had been sent tocollect. Beth had approved the selection without much interest, but thepicture inAckerman’s Repositoryhad not prepared her for the beauty of thegarment.
The ivory figured silk, inset with satin panels edged in pearls, glowedand shimmered in the candlelight. Beth had never even seen such anexquisite gown in her life. When she touched it it rustled and slitheredagainst her fingers in an orchestration of sensuality. Redcliff hoveredover the gown with all the pride and protectiveness of a mother with a newbaby.
By the gown rested a bouquet of pink and ivory roses packed in dampmoss, and a small package.
“What is this, Redcliff?”
“ ‘Tis from the marquess, I believe, miss,” said the woman with aknowing smile.
