Page 27 of Dangerous Illusions (Dangerous #1)

Susan smiled. “I did not know myself until a few days ago, and then it was all flurry and uproar to prepare. Geoffrey had got the invitation in Brighton and, just like any other man, had forgotten to mention it to me until Catherine chanced to do so. She had been invited, too, you see, but had cried off, thinking she would be in St. Ives. As soon as Geoffrey heard her say so, he insisted we must come. You may imagine my surprise.”

“Yes, indeed, for he rarely brings you to such parties, but it is no wonder you look so fatigued. You ought to be in bed.”

“Oh dear, do I look as bad as all that?”

“You do.”

Susan laughed ruefully. “Only a sister would be so blunt. Very well, as soon as I can manage it without drawing attention to myself, I will retire.”

“You will go now, my love, and no one will be the wiser, for I will go with you and anyone who notes our departure will simply think we have gone to the ladies’ withdrawing room.

By the time anyone chooses to wonder why we have not returned, they will no longer care.

Unless, of course, you think we ought to tell Geoffrey,” she added, looking toward the floor where Sir Geoffrey was dancing with a bright-eyed miss in a stunning pink gown.

Susan followed her gaze and shook her head. “Oh, no, I daresay he will not notice if I go now. We do not live in each other’s pockets, after all, and Geoffrey enjoys this sort of entertainment much more than I do.”

“Why, I thought it was he who disliked it,” Daintry said in surprise as they made their way toward the door to the corridor. “You used to enjoy all manner of parties.”

Even Susan’s smile was tired. “I did, I suppose, in the old days. I daresay it is a sign of old age creeping up on me.”

“Don’t be nonsensical, and for heaven’s sake don’t go about saying such silly things to anyone else, or people will think you are sinking into a deep decline.” They were on the stairs now.

“Don’t scold,” Susan said. “You sound like Davina.”

Daintry smothered an improper exclamation. “If Davina has been scolding you, just tell her to mind her own affairs and leave you to yours. She is not your sister—well, only by law.”

“It’s all the same, for you both have a habit of telling me what I ought and ought not to do.

No one considers my feelings in the least, Daintry.

Doesn’t anyone ever think about what I might want?

Why does everyone insist he knows what is best for me when I am perfectly capable of deciding matters for myself? ”

Hearing a note of near hysteria in her voice, Daintry ruthlessly repressed an urge to reply in kind, to tell her that no one was attempting to tell her what to do.

Instead, as they approached Susan’s bedchamber, she said calmly, “I know you are capable of anything. Are you not my big sister, the person to whom I so frequently go for her excellent advice?”

“Well, no,” Susan said, but her eyes were twinkling now. “You go to Aunt Ophelia, of course, and have done so ever since I got married. You rarely even ride over to visit me anymore.”

“You know very well it was Geoffrey’s joking that I was underfoot all the time that made Papa forbid me to visit so frequently,” Daintry said, opening the door to the bedchamber.

“That was only at first, of course, but then somehow we all seemed to get out of the habit. Now that Charley and Melissa have become such friends though, I daresay you will see more of us in future.” Finding Susan’s maid awaiting her, she added, “You may go, Rosemary. I will attend to Lady Susan tonight.”

As the door shut behind the maid, Susan sighed. “You see that, she did not so much as ask my permission to go.”

“Don’t be foolish, love. She has been acquainted with us both nearly all our lives and knows you would never contradict an order of my giving—at least, not while I stood beside you. You may be very certain she will be listening for your bell and will return in a trice if you want her. Do you?”

“No, but I wish … Oh, pay me no mind. I am—”

“You are exhausted,” Daintry said, beginning to unfasten the row of buttons down the back of Susan’s gown. As the gown fell open, she saw, above the lace edging of Susan’s shift the dark shadow of a bruise. Clicking her tongue, she said, “What have you done to yourself this time?”

Susan laughed. “Nothing that will entertain you in the least, I assure you. Just my usual clumsiness, tripping over my own feet. I don’t recall precisely what I did, but if it’s the one on my shoulder, I believe I backed into my wardrobe at home.

At all events, it is nothing. I can dress myself now if you have undone all those dreadful buttons. ”

“There is warm water waiting for you in the basin yonder, with a fresh towel, and your nightdress is laid out on the bed.” Daintry said no more until Susan was tucked beneath the covers, but she had been thinking.

Pulling the dressing chair up beside the bed when Susan was settled, she said, “Look here, is anything amiss? You really have not seemed at all yourself tonight.”

“No, of course there is nothing—” She broke off when the door opened and Sir Geoffrey entered the room, the frowning look on his handsome face turning instantly to an anxious one.

“There you are, my love! I turned away for a moment, and when I turned back, you had disappeared into thin air.” Grinning at Daintry, he said, “Did you abduct my wife, lovely sister-in-law, and carry her bodily off to bed? For I swear no one else could make the foolish child admit her exhaustion.”

“I suppose I did carry her off,” she said, smiling back at him and moving her chair to make room for him nearer the bed.

Susan sat up at once to put her arms around him when he sat on the bed, and he hugged her, still smiling at Daintry.

“You have done her an excellent service, little sister. I am in your debt.” He smoothed Susan’s hair back from her face and kissed her gently on the lips, then said, “You did not plait your hair, sweetheart. It will be all tangles in the morning.”

Daintry said, “I was sitting in her dressing chair, Geoffrey, and her hair never tangles very much, anyway. Rosemary will deal with it in the morning.”

“Ah, but it will be better to attend to it now,” he said, “and as it happens, I am an expert at such matters. Hand me her hairbrush there on the dressing table, will you, before you go?”

Accepting her dismissal, Daintry did as she was asked. As she handed him the silver-backed hairbrush, she smiled at Susan, who was blushing furiously and avoiding her gaze. “Very well, I can take a hint. I will see you in the morning, Susan.”

“Late in the morning,” Sir Geoffrey said.

Shaking her head in amusement, Daintry left them, and when she saw Susan the following day, though they scarcely had time to talk, she was impressed by the change in her spirits.

Susan appeared to be much more cheerful.

Her movements were animated, and her conversation was lively.

It was, Daintry decided, a definite improvement. Clearly Geoffrey did have his moments.

The weather had not improved. Rain beat down steadily on Mount Edgcumbe’s verdant gardens, so the entertainment was of a necessity limited to the confines of the house, but there was no lack of amusement.

By day there were roles to be learned for amateur theatricals, and a host of indoor games to play.

Rooms had been set aside for correspondence, reading, cards, or merely for conversation, and the evenings sparkled with the theatricals, as well as with musical performances and more dancing.

Daintry saw a good deal of Deverill in the course of these events, and she rapidly came to the conclusion that Lady Ophelia had been perfectly right in her assessment of his intentions.

He had only to meet her gaze across a room to flirt with her, and if she was with someone else, he showed a flattering determination to cut out the other gentleman.

It soon became clear that, like the capable soldier he was, he counted her as yet one more military objective to be achieved.

Enjoying herself now, certain it would be only a matter of time before he betrayed himself, and knowing she would gain more by frustrating him a little than by seeming to leap like a hungry salmon to his lures, she forced herself to pay his attentions as little heed as possible.

When he asked her to dance, she made much of examining her program as if to be sure she could spare one for him.

When he suggested a stroll in the long gallery to look at the pictures there, she declined on the grounds that such a stroll would be too remarkable to others.

But on the fifth morning, when the sun came out at long last, and Daintry, rising early, entered the breakfast room to find Deverill there alone, dressed for riding, her spirits leapt with pleasure at the sight of him.

“I knew you would come,” he said.

“How long have you been waiting?” she demanded.

He made a big thing of looking at his watch. “Two hours.”

“You have not!”

“Perhaps only one then, but I was sure you would come down. I have ordered horses for us both.”

“I have ordered my own horse, thank you.”

“Do you think your order will provide you with as good a mount as mine will?” he asked lazily.

She knew the answer to that. Lord Mount Edgcumbe’s people did not know her well, and no doubt would provide a meek and gentle ladies’ mount for her, but if Deverill had ordered a more spirited animal, he would get it.

And if she rode with him, she would not have to match her pace to a groom’s or concern herself with whether the groom would report her to be a too-daring rider for a female, which was a thing that had been known to happen in the past when she visited houses where her skill was unknown.

As it was, she had risen early, hoping to enjoy a gallop without being forced to plod along with a party of ladies.

Riding with Deverill would be much better than either course.

So swallowing her lofty attitude, she smiled warmly at him and said, “I will not pretend to be ungrateful, sir, for I am very much obliged to you.”

“Excellent,” he said. “Very much obliged is exactly what I’d intended you should be.”