.
After luncheon, which proved to be surprisingly good if unsurprisingly awkward, Robert chose to take his ease in the library, recovering from the meal and turning over what in the world had happened. He had no interest in sharing the drawing room with the sullen Davis. The more time he spent with the young man, the more he felt that Lacey should have held him in the stream and not just dunked him.
He was moving through the library, inspecting a rather good collection of the classics, when he heard a rattle by the window. He found himself unsurprised when he saw that Lacey herself was throwing small pebbles at the glass.
He opened the window and stared down at her.
“What are you doing?”
“There's a side door through the arbor, just two doors down on the right if you turn left out of the library. Come meet me there!”
She turned and darted away, and Robert grinned. He had little idea what was happening, and even fewer thoughts about what role he was playing here, but he knew that it certainly wasn't boring.
He followed her directions easily enough, stepping from the arbor into the rear gardens. He was just wondering where in the world he should go next when Lacey darted out of the bushes, grabbed his hand, and dragged him deeper into the foliage.
“Where are we going?”
“You'll see.”
She tugged him to an overgrown pergola in a distant part of the garden. The pergola was half-collapsed, and the vines were taking it back slowly. Still, there was a bench inside where one could sit, and Robert noticed how very hidden they were from the house. Lacey gathered her pale green skirts around her and sat down, and Robert did the same. He suddenly couldn't remember the last time he had been in such a private place with a woman he wasn't having an affair with.
Once she had gotten him to this private place, however, Lacey seemed slightly at a loss. Her slender hands tangled in her lap, and she looked as if she couldn't meet his eyes. Suddenly, he could easily imagine her poring over a chessboard at night, going over every move she could make, every move he could make, reaching out to play their game over the weeks and months and years.
“It's all right.” Robert's voice was gentle when he spoke. “Take your time.”
“Well, first, I think I have now given you every reason you need to call me a virago.”
“Miss Welton, I think that they haven't come up with a term for whatever it is you are yet.”
She flashed him a smile, and he wanted to laugh at himself for simply assuming she was some aged matriarch. “Miss Welton may be appropriate, but not if we're engaged, yes?”
“All right, then. Lacey. And it was a good thing your mother shouted it so loudly, because I didn't know it. Why in the world don't you sign your name with your post? You've been Miss L. Welton for years.”
“Oh. Because my father thought it sounded more distinguished when I started to play. He never liked my name. He thought Lacey was rather ugly.”
“I think you're beautiful.”
The words popped out before he could stop them, and Lacey looked at him with an expression of utter befuddlement on her face. Had no one ever suggested she was beautiful before? There was a faint blush on her cheeks, but she shook her head and ignored it.
“I understand that I have put you in a rather difficult spot, and for that, I apologize.”
“I was hoping you might have a plan as well as an apology. As it is, this is one hell of a muddle, and only bound to get worse if people start asking me about you.”
“I do!”
She looked up brightly and leaned in closer to him.
“What I need you to do is to stay at Baling House and be my fiancé for just a week or so. Just until Davis gets tired of waiting around and leaves.”
Robert frowned. “I suppose Davis is the man who benefited so well from that dunking you gave him.”
“He is, and he's horrid. Or, well, maybe I'm being cruel. He's attentive and pays me all sorts of extravagant compliments and things like that, but the problem is, he refuses to stop. He's set on marrying me for some reason...”
“Your house? Your title? Your good looks?”
This time, the look that she shot him was one of frank exasperation.
“Don't be like Davis. I do not have much experience with them, but I am beginning to think that I do not really like compliments.”
“That would make you different from most women in London.”
“That sounds precisely right. But as I was saying. I don't want to marry Davis. I know that I will have to marry eventually. I am not so heartless as to let my mother's title pass to another. But she is far healthier than she lets on, and if I must wed, I'd rather it not be him. Is that so very difficult to understand?”
“No, it's easy to understand, but now I must ask, what am I getting out of the deal?”
Lacey lifted her chin, assuming an air of genteel nobility and honor. “You get the pleasure and privilege of helping out an old friend that you care about very much.”
That would probably be enough, but for some reason, Robert couldn't resist playing with her just a little. “Surely, you're not serious?”
She shrugged, not offended in the least. “Well, I suppose it was worth a try. What do you want? I can teach you the Turkish feint move. It would have saved more than a few matches for you.”
“You'll teach me that anyway when you're ready to stop ending games with it. What else have you got?”
“I could give you a lovely antique quilt. I wasn't fibbing when I said I had a connection.”
“That'll hardly be a thing I want in London. I was thinking of something a little earthier.”
“Beg pardon?”
Robert slid his arm over her shoulders, leaning toward her slowly. If she wanted to get away from him, she had plenty of opportunities to do so, but instead, she watched him with large eyes.
“Robert, I don't know about this—”
“Shush. Let's see what you think of my fee.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Robert realized that he had wanted to kiss her ever since he pulled her up on the horse with him. He captured her lips like a conqueror took a city, claiming her, tasting her mouth thoroughly. For a moment, she was stiff in his arms, but then, like magic, she simply melted against him. She felt perfect next to him, and when she parted her lips timidly, he laughed just a little.
Before she could become too offended by his humor, he swept his tongue between her lips, making her gasp against him. Instead of biting him or shoving him away, however, her small hands clung to his jacket even harder, and she tilted her head back, tasting him even as he was tasting her. From somewhere deep inside Robert, a deep and echoing call came. He didn't want to lose this, wanted more and more, and he felt as if nothing in the world might stop him.
“Lacey! Lacey, where in the world are you?”
The worried shout of Countess Baling made them both pull apart, Lacey with a panicked gaze, and Robert with a reluctance he couldn't explain to himself. Lacey started to go off toward her mother's voice, but Robert took her by the hand.
“Is my price agreeable to you?”
For a moment, he thought she would deny it, put up more of a fuss, bargain with him. However, she smiled at him, and the sweetness of it her expression made something inside him melt. “More than, my lord.”
“It's Robert, not 'my lord.' You should get back to your mother.”
“I should. I will see you at dinner.”
As Lacey disappeared toward the house, Robert relaxed on the bench, staring up at the bright blue sky. He wasn't sure what in the world he was getting involved in, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was not going to be boring. Not in the least.