.
Robert hadn't expected Lacey's rejection to sting quite so badly. He had been rejected before, by both noblewomen and inn girls, and he'd never let it worry him for more than a moment. When Lacey turned back to him with that bright smile and told him what a very convincing false couple they made, however, that all changed.
He'd immediately felt cold, and then a raging tide of anger had spilled over him. He wanted to shake her, to make her see what was truly between them, what could be between them if she only opened her damned eyes.
In a flash, though, he realized that was the worst thing he could have done. It would have made him no better than Davis, and while he could accept many things from Lacey, he wasn't sure he could accept her pity or her contempt.
It'll be fine. I have time. As long as Davis is here making an ass of himself, I have a reason to stay at Baling House. I can talk with Lacey. I can convince her that we might have something wonderful together.
Constance Welton appeared in the foyer, tastefully dressed in blue silk trimmed in cream, and she looked around with a slight frown.
“I had thought Lord Exter would be here ahead of me.”
“I am sorry, Lady Baling. I seem doomed to disappoint.”
Robert turned toward the voice on the stair and raised his eyebrows. Davis looked a fright, hair stuck up as if he'd been running his fingers through it, and he was in his shirtsleeves, certainly not dressed for a ball.
Constance frowned. “You have not been a disappointment, Lord Exter.”
“Ah, but I have. I have pressed my suit when it was not wanted, and I have made a pest of myself.”
Oh, no. Really? Now?
Davis came down the stairs and offered Robert a short bow. “I spoke with Lord Dellfield last night, and he helped me see the light. I need to leave. Tonight.”
He shook his head, forestalling any protest. “The ball seems to have been a godsend. I will pack my things and depart with no need for a long or irritating farewell. Thank you very much for your courtesy, Lady Baling. Miss Welton. Lord Dellfield.”
He turned before any of them could say anything, striding back up the stairs with the gait of a determined man.
Constance frowned after him, shaking her head. “Well, that was a surprise. I suppose there is no arguing with him. Lacey, for goodness' sake, don't look so upset. You were practically driving the man from the door this entire time.”
Even as he took her arm and led her to the waiting carriage, Robert couldn't help but notice Lacey's shocked expression. Surely, she hadn't developed some feelings for Davis? The thought made him want to growl, but instead, he handed her and her mother into the carriage like a gentleman should before joining them.
The ride to the Winsteads was quiet, every person in the carriage deep in thought. Robert, who had never really had a mind for military matters, was going over his options, coming up with desperate plan after desperate plan to stay at Baling House after Davis departed, but time and again, he kept coming up short. There seemed to be nothing that would allow him to stay next to Lacey without being tantamount to begging her to keep him, and that, Robert's pride would not allow him to do.
When they alighted from the carriage at the Winsteads' manor a short time later, Robert still didn't know what to do. He helped first Constance down from the carriage, and then Lacey, but as she descended the last step, Lacey stumbled, as far as he could tell, over nothing.
“Oof, Mother, could you go ahead? I just need to retie my slipper. My lord, if you would stay for a moment and lend me your arm?”
Constance gave them both a suspicious look, but since they were engaged, there was nothing much to be said about it. She swept up to the lit house before them, leaving Robert and Lacey alone on the now empty drive, as the carriage driver guided the horses away.
“I take it your slipper doesn't need to be tied.”
“They don't even have laces. I just wanted to...”
She trailed off, looking down.
“For God's sake, Lacey, don't beat around the bush.” Robert’s nerves were frayed and he spoke more harshly than he’d intended.
She straightened as if he had jammed a steel rod down her back, raising her eyes to meet his. Even in the dim light from the lamp posts, her violet eyes shone. A man could drown in them if he was unwary.
“I wanted to say thank you. For everything you've done for me. I know that it didn't come without a cost, and that I have likely delayed you from many things that you wanted to do.”
Robert did his best not to flinch. “Perfectly my pleasure, I am sure.”
“And, of course, now that Davis is leaving, I will no longer trouble you for your services as my fiancé. Truly, Robert, I have been a pest and a bother, but I know that—”
“I should think you ought to go back to calling me by my title, don't you think?”
The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. They were spoken hastily out of a desperate need to hurt her, to make sure that she was as hurt as he was by what was happening. A part of him shouted at him to stop this, to simply pull her into the darkness and talk with her until they figured out exactly what it was between them. What happened when there were no rules, no strictures, no silly game that would keep them apart and together at the same time?
Robert was proud, however, and the words would not come. Lacey looked at him for a long time, and he couldn't say what she was thinking.
My God, she should have played cards and not chess. She could make a killing at the tables.
At last, as if she had come to some kind of inward understanding, she nodded.
“You are very right, Lord Dellfield. I am grateful for your aid over the last little while, and I hope that if I can ever do you any service that you let me know at once.”
She dropped into a perfect curtsy, her eyes lowered and as perfect a demure young lady as might be hoped for. Robert had to close his eyes against the urge to shake her because he knew that wasn't her. Automatically, he offered her his arm, and with a calm grace that he admired even as it infuriated him, he led her into the ball.
Three hours later, Robert wanted nothing more than to climb out the window, find a horse, and ride it all the way to London, where things made sense. The Winsteads put on an excellent ball, with fine musicians and plenty of punch to keep the proceedings merry, but Robert felt a dark tide of depression tugging at his elbow no matter how good the company.
He had been relieved when Constance had claimed her daughter, saying it had been ages since she was properly out in company. He had decided then and there to make himself scarce for at least a little while, but unfortunately, as the new man in the area, he was a figure of constant fascination.
Robert had been attending balls and galas since he was a teenager. He could smile, laugh, and make polite conversation while keeping his own thoughts private. About an hour into that, however, and he didn't even know why he bothered.
Well, as far as I am concerned, I am a free agent. I may do as I like, speak to who I like, and enjoy myself, same as everyone else present.
If Robert were honest, the punch might have had something to do with his decision. The rum in it was sweet and strong, and it wasn't long before he realized how utterly delightful the women of Westchester really were. He chatted with one girl and then another, promised a third and a fourth a dance, and was just looking into getting more punch when he saw a familiar face in the crowd.
“Tabitha?”
Tabitha Kingsley peered at him through her unfashionable glasses, blinking a few times. She looked startled that she had been noticed, confused that it had happened, and just a little like she was planning on running away from the whole mess.
“My lord?”
“You may not remember me, but your cousin Thomas introduced us at the Parrs’ crush last year.”
Behind her thick glasses, her gray eyes cleared up, and she smiled at him. With her auburn hair and slender figure, Tabitha, called Tabi by friends and family alike, was quite the beauty.
“If only she would take off those dratted glasses,” her cousin Georgiana often sighed. “I swear she would have all of London at her feet in a matter of months.”
“Well, she would also have to develop an interest in people who haven't been dead for four hundred years, and she'd have to want to go to parties instead of libraries, and she'd have to actually come to London instead of staying in the country with Father. And, of course, she'd have to want it, and I've never heard her say that she does.” Thomas Martin had grinned as he said it, however, and his fondness for his odd cousin was evident in his words.
When Robert had met Tabi last year, he had been amused by her eccentric ways, startled at her beauty, and inclined to be fond of her if only for Thomas and Georgiana's sake. They were his only real friends in London, and it was easy to look on Tabi with a brotherly affection.
“Oh, Robert!' she said with a smile. “It is Robert, isn't it? I'm afraid that I have forgotten the rest.”
“Robert Gordon, Earl of Dellfield, and a few other less important titles, but feel free to stick with Robert, it's much easier. Are you here all on your lonesome, Tabi?”
She shook head. “No, I'm here with Gwendolyn Larkin. Uncle Peter sent me to Westchester to find a monograph that we couldn't find at home in Devon or in London. I'm staying with the Larkins while I make up a clean copy for our own use.”
Robert grinned. “Well, that's a shame that Lord Southerly sent you all this way for some moldy old document.”
Tabi blinked at him owlishly, frowning a little. “Well, it's not a shame at all. I'm having a very fine time, and the pamphlet Uncle Peter sent me to copy is just fascinating, full of some of the most interesting details about life in the 1600s...”
Robert nodded, holding up a hand to forestall her. “My mistake, it sounds fascinating. But since we're both here and at loose ends, would you care to dance?”
Tabi looked at him gravely and nodded. “I would not mind, and I think that dancing with someone I know will be far superior to dancing with someone I don't.”
As they waited for the next dance to begin, Robert thought all over again that Tabi was an odd bird. Just a few months ago, Thomas Martin had gotten married to a hellion heiress disguised as a prim missionary. He wondered if Tabi were hiding anything similar under her earnest historian's exterior, but surely, Thomas or Georgiana would have figured it out by now. In a family renowned for its wild ways and dangerous tastes, Tabi seemed to be the odd one out, sweet as sugar, smart as a whip, and quiet as a mouse.
As they started the processional side by side, however, Tabi turned to glance at him.
“What is it, Tabi?”
“Who are you looking at?”
“You, of course. You look positively stunning in that dress.”
Her eyes were grave. “Look to your left.”
He did so, and she said, “Now tell me what color my dress is.”
“Lavender.”
“It's blue.”
He turned back to her with a wry glance, and yes, her dress was, in fact, a pale blue.
“Were you trying to make a point, Tabi?”
“I was mostly curious.”
“About?”
“About who you keep looking at over my shoulder.”
Robert realized at once what he was doing, and he winced. “I'm sorry, Tabi. I didn't even realize what I was doing.”
She tilted her head, gazing at him thoughtfully. It occurred to her that while she might not have any of the famous Martin recklessness, she likely had all their wit and intelligence.
“What's wrong? Thomas has told me a great deal about you, and he never mentioned that you were inclined to melancholy.”
For one mad moment, he wanted to tell Tabi all about it. He wanted to start with how he had been bored out of his mind in London and how he'd come to Westchester looking for something different. He had certainly found it in Lacey, but now it felt as if his reward for seeking the strange and exciting was going to be a broken heart.
Then he realized how utterly insane that would be and shook his head. “I'm fine, I promise. Just a little distracted.”
At her skeptical look, he sighed. “If it's still on my mind, I'll tell you when I see you at Christmas for the Martin family celebration, how's that?”
Tabi nodded, satisfied. “It might be a little quiet this year. Thomas is likely still going to be traveling with his new wife, and Georgiana—”
Before she could tell him what was going on with Georgiana, the dance ended, and she dropped into a deep and very creditable curtsy. At Robert's surprised look, she smiled at him.
“I know what my cousins say about me, but I'm not altogether without graces and skills.”
“They would never say such a thing about you, I swear,” Robert said, escorting her to the sideline. Tabi introduced him to Gwendolyn Larkin, the eldest daughter of the family she was staying with as she did her work, and the Larkin girl, a lissome beauty with striking black eyes, looked at him in a frank and curious way.
Robert returned her smile, but when he realized there was something empty in it, he begged their pardon and took his leave.
Even as he crossed the ballroom, Robert knew that the thing that was missing was Lacey. Gwendolyn Larkin was one of the most beautiful girls at the ball, and whenever she made it to London, she would likely be the ton's new darling, but she wasn't Lacey. Apparently, that meant there was something lacking in her, and Robert felt that same anger rise up in him.
The Winsteads' ballroom was blessed with tall French doors that opened onto their expansive gardens. Tonight, the gardens were lit with lanterns strung up in the trees, giving the garden a rather fairytale feeling. Ignoring the beauty, knowing only that he needed to get his head clear, Robert stalked into the darkness.