CHAPTER THREE
Lilly's eyes tracked Lord Sinclair as he drew closer. Surely he was not coming to see her? Two days had passed since that night he had caught her as she lunged at Leo to save him, and she’d believed he had taken her advice and forgotten the entire incident. The look on his face suggested she was wrong.
Her heart beat a little faster as she watched him cut a path through the other guests. He was taller than most of the other people in the room, so she could see him clearly, and although she couldn't read his expression from this distance she was fairly certain he was looking at her.
Of course he was not seeking her out, she told herself. She had turned him away successfully, just as she had the others. And yet, what had happened between them may have piqued his interest. She prayed it hadn't, as she had no time to deal with him now.
The problem was that since that night when he had risked himself to save her, when she would have surely fallen hard and possibly injured herself and Leo, she had not been able to stop thinking of him. His actions had been selfless, and she was unsure many would have taken the steps he had to keep her safe.
Take her brother, for example; he would never have risked his health to save her. And yet Lord Sinclair had, which told her she may have misjudged him, and that in fact, he was a great deal nicer than she had originally believed. Not that it mattered. Lilly let no one close; she held them all at bay with silly looks, boring stories, and terrible choices in clothing. But still, it would be nice to know if he was... nice.
She shot him another look. He certainly seemed to be heading her way. Lilly pressed a hand to her chest. Surely not? Surely he would not question her here over what had transpired the other night?
He had piercing green eyes, which she had only really looked into once before and vowed never to do so again, because she was sure he had read her innermost secrets and seen right down to her soul. Thick black hair and dark brows and lashes complemented a face that sometimes appeared chiseled in granite, and then he would smile—rarely, but usually when his siblings were near—and the effect was breathtaking.
His chest was wide, his shoulders broad, and Lilly had no idea who his tailor was, but she hoped he was paid handsomely for the effort of clothing the man's huge body.
Men did not often unsettle Lilly; in fact, for the most she found them simpleminded idiots, just as they found her. However, one look into his green eyes and she had actually lost the ability to think. It had never happened to her before, that sudden intense attraction that had fleeced her brain of every thought and stuck her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Lilly had never been attracted to another man like she was to Lord Sinclair. When he had offered his arm she had felt the heat of his body through her gloved fingers almost as if the man were a smoldering ember. Luckily she had fallen back on the act she had perfected of the empty-headed Miss Braithwaite.
“Is that Lord Sinclair coming this way, Miss Braithwaite?” Miss Tabitha Pillsworth whispered to her.
“Absolutely not,” Lilly said, turning away so she wouldn't gaze at him as she often did when no one paid attention. Her glasses proved a wonderful shield and, as most evenings she sat in some corner, she could observe without reserve.
“I think he is, and he looks extremely determined. Dear Lord, that is a ferocious scowl, is it not?”
“As you can see, Miss Pillsworth, I am at present looking at you. Therefore I cannot see what look Lord Sinclair has upon his face.”
“I wonder how he does that?” Her companion sighed.
“Does what?” Lilly said, then bit her tongue; she did not want to know what he was doing.
“Part the crowd without a word.”
“He is probably wearing too much scent!”
“Oh that was naughty, Miss Braithwaite!” Miss Pillsworth giggled and then gulped and grew quiet, and Lilly knew why. Without turning around, she just knew that he was standing behind her. She could feel him.
“Miss Braithwaite, Miss Pillsworth, I hope you are having a pleasant evening thus far.”
She had to look up at him now; it would be extremely rude if she did not. Yet didn't he already think her rude?
“Lord Sinclair,” Lilly said, gripping the edges of her seat.
“May I enquire if you have this dance free, Miss Braithwaite?”
Lilly looked down at her dance card, thereby avoiding his eyes. Damn man, he was far too disturbing this close, and while Lilly studied her card, she knew there was not one name on there.
“I fear not, Lord Sinclair.” Lilly fell back on what she did best. She gave him an insipid smile.
“Now that is a shame, considering we have so much to discuss.”
That look in his eyes told Lilly the man was not about to walk away from her until he got what he came for.
“Are you wishing to hear more of the Grey Shrike, my lord?”
“No, you were quite thorough in your description, thank you.” His voice held humor.
“Perhaps another night then, Lord Sinclair.”
Before she could retreat, he had grabbed her card and studied it. Horrified, she knew he saw it was empty.
“Lord Hingle has been struck down with a rare form of lackwit; it is a disease that will lay him low for some time, I fear.”
Lilly heard Miss Pillsworth giggle.
“That is extremely rude, my lord. Lord Hingle is a friend of mine, and on his behalf I must protest.”
In fact she loathed the man, but he did not need to know that. The slow smile forming on Lord Sinclair's face was not making her heart thud faster, Lilly told herself.
“Please accept my apologies if I have insulted you in any way, Miss Braithwaite.”
He wasn't sorry at all, the scoundrel. His green eyes had a wicked glint. She squinted. Men did not like women who squinted, she had ascertained, as it meant she could not see them clearly.
“Oh, Miss Braithwaite thinks Lord Hingle a lackwit also, Lord Sinclair.”
“Yes, thank you, Miss Pillsworth.” Lilly gave the woman a sharp look, which did nothing to subdue her. They had spent many hours sitting on the edges of ballrooms, and Lilly had let her facade drop occasionally and shared a quip or two about some of the men of society. Now she wished she had held her tongue.
“I shall dance with the silly man should he arrive, Miss Braithwaite, while you dance with Lord Sinclair.”
“Excellent.” He held out his arm. “What a true friend you are, Miss Pillsworth.”
Lilly looked around her but rescue came from no quarter, and as there was no one to come to her aid anyway, there was little she could do but rise and place the tips of her gloved fingers on his forearm.
Neither spoke as they made their way onto the floor. They attracted plenty of glances, because it was no secret she was rarely asked to dance and he was highly sought-after.
Lilly was relieved as a quadrille started when they reached the floor. Not as bad as a waltz, but still he would remain close to her for most of it.
“Are you enjoying the season thus far, Miss Braithwaite?”
“Oh indeed,” she simpered. The breath seized in her throat as his large fingers clasped around hers. Even through their gloves she could do nothing to stop the shiver of awareness. She released it with a whoosh as he released her to take Lady Rumble's hand. The woman threw him a smoldering look.
Lilly had never understood women doing such things. But then she'd never understood the need to flirt either. Of course, that was because she had no wish to ever marry. Lilly couldn't marry; she had too many reasons not to, second of which was her children. No husband would allow his wife to do as she did.
She straightened her spine as Lord Sinclair returned to her side. Luckily he did not touch her.
“Do you not like the quadrille, Miss Braithwaite?”
His green eyes smiled, and Lilly hated the feeling of a hundred butterflies fluttering about in her stomach.
“Oh yes, indeed, Lord Sinclair, it is a most beauteous dance. Why do you ask?”
“You're frowning.”
Drat. Lilly immediately relaxed her face.
“I like to frown, I-I it gives the face a chance to relax.” Mother of God, had she just said those words? Think before you speak, Lilliana, she chided herself, this man is no fool. Try not to appear overly stupid.
“There is certainly a place for a frown, but one would not think that place was on the dance floor when one is meant to be enjoying oneself.”
“Oh yes, indeed,” she said for the third time. “La, I do believe this is my favorite dance. Do you know of its origins, Lord Sinclair?”
Lilly had a head full of silly facts. She had researched long and hard on just such things, because she had every intention of dissuading every man who might show an interest in her.
“Ah, no. However, I wish to discuss something else with you, Miss Braithwaite.”
“I knew you enjoyed our discussion on the gray shrike, my lord. Let me now tell you of the yellow wagtail.”
“What occurred the other night, Miss Braithwaite? Why were you out there, running down that street after that man and boy? What were you saving him from?”
Lilly missed a step, but as he was holding her, he took her weight, and they continued on as if nothing had happened.
“I, ah, have no idea what it is you refer to, Lord Sinclair.”
“Miss Braithwaite, please do not try to fob me off. I was there, I saw you, and I caught you and the boy as you fell. That bruise on your chin was the result. So don't play me for a fool, as it will not wash.”
“I have no wish to discuss it,” she trilled. “It was a silly, reckless moment. It has now passed, and will never happen again.”
“Try that again.”
He said the words as he left her side, and she had only a few seconds to find an answer. Her thoughts whirled but she could come up with nothing that would appease him and leave him none the wiser as to her actions, so she fell back on the ridiculous.
“I have recently started studying mice, Lord Sinclair. And a rare form of field mouse is found on that street at that time every year. It comes only in the summer, and I was there searching for it when I saw that man grab that boy.” Lilly was rather proud of her reply. It sounded like something the silly Miss Braithwaite would do. “I could not, in all conscience, let that man harm the child, and so I set off in pursuit, and that is when you found me. Your actions surely saved my life,” Lilly added dramatically. “I shall forever be indebted to you.”
“Impressive though that reply was, you don't seriously expect me to believe it, do you?”
“Why, are you suggesting I am telling an untruth, my lord? Shame on you.” Lilly gasped, then clutched her bosom for effect.
He took her hands as they walked in a small circle.
“I am unsure if you are an excellent actress, and if so, why? Or you are genuinely....”
“Simple-minded? Oh I assure you I am. ’Tis a constant concern for my family.”
He laughed, a deep booming sound that drew far too many eyes. Lilly did not like being the center of attention.
“Now then,” he said when they returned to their previous position. “How about we try that again? Why were you in that lane at such an hour, chasing that man, with a handful of children with whom you were obviously familiar?”
“I-I—please forget the entire incident, Lord Sinclair.” Lilly gave up trying to concoct a more elaborate story. This man would not be fooled, or deterred, it seemed.
“I don't think that will be possible, Miss Braithwaite.”
“Why? My actions do not concern you.”
“And yet I was there, as were you. The woman I saw that night, for a brief moment, vastly differed from the one I believed I knew. My curiosity is roused.”
Oh no, no, no. This was not good at all. Lilly could not afford to have someone like Lord Sinclair poking his nose into her affairs. Her family had no idea what she did, and she liked it that way. Miss Braithwaite was important to no one. Therefore no one cared about her actions... until now.
“No, you were right in your earlier assessment of my character. I am extremely silly. Why, just yesterday I told Lord Howe that very thing, and he agreed with me.”
“And yet, that leads me no closer to what I want to know.”
“I am distressed by your line of questioning, Lord Sinclair.” Lilly forced herself to trill the words in her usual high-pitched tone. “I have no wish to further our acquaintance, or indeed dance with you again.”
She felt his eyes on her, and then he had left her side once more, and Lilly wanted to flee. Pick up her skirts and run as fast as she could, and not stop.
“Had you said those words to me last week, I would have believed them, Miss Braithwaite. Yet now, tonight, I am having trouble doing so. You see, the woman I watched kneel in that filthy London street to talk with children I suspect live their lives upon them, was not extremely silly. So you see my dilemma, Miss Braithwaite,” he said in a calm voice that made Lilly want to shriek at him. “You have become something of a conundrum to me.”
“I don't want to be your conundrum,” Lilly said quickly. “I am no one worth your time, and I wish for things to go back as they were. You ignoring me, and me ignoring you, Lord Sinclair.”
Please.
“I think not, but as you will not enlighten me, perhaps your family can.”
No, dear God, no.
“Do not question them!” Lilly looked to where her aunt stood. Dear Lord, she would lock Lilly's bedroom door and never let her leave if she knew what she got up to. Dear, sweet Aunt Vi. She would be horrified to realize her niece was out on that street with only a footman for protection.
“I will not, of course, if you do not wish it. However, I would like answers to my questions.”
“You will not get them.” Her voice was tight with worry, but she cared not. She must somehow dissuade this man from further questioning. If that did not work, then she would make sure to evade him. She could fake an illness—that would give her some time, then perhaps an injury to a leg....
“I shall look forward to conversing with you once more, Miss Braithwaite.”
Lilly did not speak again as the dance thankfully ended, and let him lead her back to where her aunt stood with her brother. The entire journey was spent trying to come up with a way to stall him from further questioning her. The only idea she could come up with as they reached her aunt was to run and hide until the evening was over.
Dev released Miss Braithwaite as they reached her aunt's side. He acknowledged Lady James and ignored Lord Braithwaite, her brother. The man had had a hand in attempting to sink Cam further into the depths of depravity when first the Sinclair family arrived in London, and Dev did not forget such things, especially when they involved people he loved.
“Lady James.” He bowed before the elderly woman.
“Lord Sinclair, how lovely to see you, and dancing with my darling niece.”
Dev studied the older woman. Her dress was in the latest style and the color a deep burgundy. Why then did she allow her niece to dress like a dowdy, color-blind field mouse?
“I believe the Duke and Duchess are from London at this time, Lord Sinclair.”
“Indeed they are, Lady James. My sister is at Raven Castle, but due to return shortly. My aunt and uncle are keeping them company.”
“How lovely.” Her smile was sweet. He knew the woman had many friends and was popular, also unlike her niece.
The puzzle that was Miss Braithwaite grew by the minute.
“If you will allow me the supper dance, Miss Braithwaite?”
“Oh no, my lord. It would not do to—”
“My niece will be delighted to dance with you again, Lord Sinclair.”
He bowed then, deciding that now was as good a time as any to leave, because Lady James may be happy he was singling her niece out, but her niece and nephew were not.
“Good evening, Sinclair.”
He did not look at Nicholas Braithwaite as he spoke. Turning on his heel, Dev walked away.
The woman had piqued his interest, and when that happened there was little to be done but follow that interest until he had answers to all the questions currently swirling inside his head.
Dev thought about her as he danced with others. He thought about her as he talked with friends and acquaintances. He then returned to partner her for the supper dance. However, it seemed she had fled.