“How would you know?” Vivy narrowed her gaze. “Have you been spying on me?”
“Do not be ridiculous,” he said mildly, then in a droll tone added, “I have better things to do with my time. I will leave that duty to your would-be beau.”
Lavinia took a small breath, adjusting her approach with care. Her tongue in cheek comment was her way of telling him she knew what he was, and he had answered in kind. How much was he aware of? Would he tell her more?
“What do you know,” she began in a polite tone, “Of Lord Ravenwood’s interests? Has he mentioned me?”
“I thought you had no interest in him?” Slothington raised a brow. “So why ask at all?”
“Because.” Lavinia kept her tone airy. “Knowledge is always useful.”
Posy’s smile softened and her gaze filled with understanding. Her mind had finally latched onto the conversation. “Ohh…that earl.” Vivy glanced at her and shook her head, warning her friend to hold her tongue. Posy, more than anyone, knew about Vivy’s feelings regarding the earl. She had been there the day she had fallen at his feet and helped soothe her wounded pride.
Slothington, however, did not look at Posy. His attention remained fixed on Lavinia. “Knowledge,” he echoed, and enjoyment entered into his tone of voice. “I suppose I can see how that might prove useful.”
Vivy fought the urge to smile. “Will you share your knowledge then?”
Slothington flicked his gaze to the sky as if asking forgiveness. “I like very few people,” he began, “Ravenwood is tolerable in the way a thunderstorm are—useful when one requires it, unpleasant when one does not.”
Posy sighed, dreamy. “I like thunderstorms.”
Slothington’s expression did not change. “You would.” Affection filled his tone nonetheless as he spoke to his sister.
“Is that all you have to say about him?” Lavinia tightened her fingers together. “Do you even like the man? You never said.”
This time, Slothington narrowed his gaze. Had she pushed him too far? She did want to know more about Ravenwood, but she had other questions about other names on the list too. If she asked the wrong one or broached the wrong topic she might tip her hand. She had to be careful.
“If you have a specific question,” Slothington drawled. “Just ask, love.”
“No…nothing specific…” Vivy forced a laugh.
“Somehow I doubt that.” His gaze flicked back to hers. “But I will allow you to keep that to yourself…for now.”
Vivy lifted her shoulder with practiced carelessness. “How considerate of you.”
“I am nothing but kindness,” he replied nonchalantly. “It’s what I am known for.”
Vivy rolled her eyes. That was not what most people thought about when they regarded Viscount Slothington. His sarcasm was legendary. Suddenly, he stood straighter and glanced past her.
Vivy stilled and then slowly turned. Across the lawn, moving with ease, the Earl of Ravenwood headed in their direction. He wore a dark coat with an immaculately tied cravat. His brown hair caught the sunlight that emphasized the highlights in his luxurious locks. His hazel eyes looked more green than gold today. He stopped briefly, and then he looked, for one jolting heartbeat, directly at Lavinia.
Her stomach dipped. Slothington’s tone turned faintly dry. “Speaking of thunderstorms…”
Posy’s smile turned bright, delighted, and entirely unhelpful. “Vivy,” she whispered, “he is looking straight at you.” Then to her horror, her friend winked. Drat…
Vivy’s pulse skittered, but she kept her expression composed, her shoulders relaxed, and her smile perfectly polite. As if she had not just asked about him and had not just been caught tugging at the very thread she feared would unravel her world.
Ravenwood approached and Vivy had the sudden, sinking certainty fill her, that whatever game she thought she was playing…he had been playing it far longer, and he had outplayed her. When he approached, she might have to rethink everything, and wouldn’t that be devastating.
Garden parties were simply ballrooms set outdoors, and Dash hated everything about them. All of it was too bright and too open for his peace of mind. The grass was scrunched beneath his boots, and the sun hit his eyes at inconvenient angles. The people were the worst… They had the gall to pretend that nothing wicked ever happened beneath blue skies and all would remain perfect in their tidy little worlds. Here for the elite, war didn’t touch them and nothing terrible existed. They were all wrong...and right in their own ways. Why should they believe anything else when their lives revolved around parties and gaiety?
Dash knew better though. Devilry could happen at any time and in any place. But he had not come to think about all the ways he hated garden parties. Truthfully, he hated all social engagements. But he attended because they could be useful. Today’s soiree meant he could spend more time with Lady Lavinia.
He found her quickly, but he took the time to observe everyone in attendance. His first priority was her safety. She stood near the ornamental pond with Viscount Slothington and Lady Persephone Sedgewick. He was not happy to find her in Slothington’s company. He was an agent with the Lion Watch, but he was a bit of an arse. Though she seemed on friendly terms with the man’s sister so perhaps that made his company more tolerable.
He moved closer at a measured pace. He had been watching her long enough. Dash wanted to talk to her and that meant inserting himself into their conversation. Dash inclined his head at Sothy’s sister first, because she was beloved by half the ton and would flay him with words if he took a misstep. Like her brother she had a wicked tongue and clever mind—even if her intelligence made her appear scatter-brained. “Miss Sedgewick.”
“My lord,” she said brightly. “How lovely to see you in the sunshine. It is almost shocking.”
