Page 24 of The Lady Was Lying (Greydon #3)

Things had eased between them, but he had no idea how to fully regain the bond they had once shared. It was unlikely that meeting two of Greydon’s sisters would strengthen their relationship, but he could hardly drive past her without stopping, so he steered his phaeton in her direction.

“Lady Elias. Mother.” He smiled and nodded once they had halted close enough to converse. “I didn’t realize you were venturing out this afternoon.”

“Lady Elias insisted I join her, and since you are here with these lovely ladies, I am most glad that I did.”

“Allow me to introduce you both to Lady Belinda and Lady Jane.”

His mother smiled, focusing her attention entirely on Jane as if she hadn’t believed him when he told her they weren’t courting. “How lovely to meet you.”

“And you,” Jane replied. “It is also nice to see you again, Lady Elias.”

“Lady Jane.” Lady Elias nodded at Jane and then squinted at Belinda. Her voice dropped an octave when she added, “Lady Belinda.”

Belinda shifted at his side and quietly echoed her sister’s greetings. Other than when she had been bickering with Jane, she seemed subdued. He couldn’t help but wonder why. Was it him? Had he done something to displease her?

He’d been so unnerved by having her in his arms the previous evening that he’d faked his way through a few short conversations and then left the ball early. Being wedged against her in the carriage only confirmed what he had already begun to suspect. He liked Lady Belinda.

An uncomfortable silence fell, and then nearly everyone spoke at once.

“The weather—” James said.

“Have you—” his mother asked.

“We love—” Jane started.

“The season—” Lady Elias said.

They all stopped at the same time. Both Jane and his mother laughed.

“You go,” Jane said, gesturing toward his mother.

“Have you enjoyed the season thus far?” she asked, speaking directly to Jane.

“Absolutely,” Jane replied. “I’ve been going out every night, trying to experience as many things as I possibly can. The entertainment is as spectacular as I had hoped.”

“I saw in the papers that you went to the theatre with my son,” his mother commented, still speaking exclusively to Jane.

He’d never known her to be rude before, so why was she doing so now?

“My brother keeps a box. It is quite a popular locale during the season. Perhaps next time the duke joins us, you can come too.” Jane paused, then added, “And you, Lady Elias.”

“I have my own box,” Lady Elias harrumphed.

“How kind of you extend the offer,” his mother responded. “I would love to attend the theatre with you. I’m afraid I’ve been under the weather for more than I would like thus far this season. I’ve missed nearly all of the engagements that my son has attended.”

Her obvious disappointment caused a twinge of discomfort. More than once, he’d been relieved by her absence. It hadn’t occurred to him that she might have been looking forward to the entertainment as much as he had.

“It’s the London air,” Lady Elias interjected. “Cold, damp, and dirty. I always breathe easier in the country.”

“It isn’t damp or dirty today,” Jane commented sunnily.

“Before long, it’ll be hot , damp, and dirty,” Lady Elias added with a frown.

“At least it is lovely today,” his mother said, echoing Jane. “What part of the country did you grow up in, Lady Jane?”

“Lady Belinda dances like a dream,” James interjected, flushing as soon as the words left his mouth.

The only reasonable explanation for why he’d made such a random proclamation was that Belinda was being ignored, and she was also being uncharacteristically silent. Why was she not speaking?

It certainly wasn’t because she lacked opinions.

Jane smirked at him. “Belinda is most talented. She was instrumental in teaching me and our younger sister how to dance.”

His mother blinked as if she had no idea what to say after the abrupt change in topic while Belinda deflected by saying, “Edward taught you to dance.”

“With your assistance,” Jane insisted.

“I critiqued you mercilessly,” Belinda corrected.

James had so little experience with siblings that he had no idea whether they were conversing or arguing.

“Not true.” Jane reached out and squeezed Belinda’s hand. “You guided me to perfect my form.”

Belinda appeared at a loss for how to respond, giving his mother the opportunity to reenter the conversation. “James was forced to learn with me as his partner.”

“You obviously instructed him well. His direction is flawless,” Jane replied.

“Well, thank you. Have you danced together often?” she asked, as if she hadn’t read every word written about him and Jane and knew the exact time and place where they had interacted.

“Only once. At my debut. We were supposed to dance together yesterday, but I was a touch unwell, so Belinda took my place.”

His mother’s gaze turned calculating. “The scandal sheets didn’t mention Lady Belinda and my son partnering, only that he didn’t dance with you last evening.”

“The scandal sheets never mention Belinda,” Jane responded, as if it was a well-known fact and not at all odd.

“Whyever not?” his mother asked, echoing his own thoughts.

Jane scratched her cheek. “I couldn’t say.” She turned to Belinda. “Why haven’t the scandal sheets mentioned you this season?”

“Because I’ve been mostly absent, and there is nothing to report.”

“You danced with the duke last night,” Jane reminded everyone.

“As a favor,” Belinda said.

“I suppose that is true. Not sure how the scandal sheets would know that, but you do try to avoid attention as much as you can, so perhaps that is why.”

Belinda nodded, and the conversation turned to the musical that evening.

Once again, Belinda lapsed into silence. James didn’t have much to add either. He was too busy sneaking glances at Belinda and wondering why his dance with her had not been mentioned in the papers. It was perhaps the first time he had publicly engaged with an unmarried woman and had it ignored.

How very curious.

* * *

“Should we stop for ices on the way back?” James asked when they finally exited the park.

“Yes,” Jane squealed.

Leaning slightly forward, Belinda rubbed her ear. Why was Jane being so loud? It was difficult to tell if her sister was trying to impress James or repel him with her unnecessary enthusiasm.

“You must really like ices,” he commented.

“Who doesn’t?”

“What about you, Lady Belinda?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. I suppose they are all right,” she murmured, not really feeling strongly one way or the other. Something about the encounter in the park had knocked her a bit sideways, and she was struggling to pinpoint the exact cause.

It wasn’t Lady Elias. She had always been cold to Belinda.

And it wasn’t his mother. Obviously aware of the speculation surrounding James and Jane, she had directed most of her attention toward Jane, but she had not been outwardly rude to Belinda.

If anything, she had been staring a bit too closely at her by the end of their conversation.

James shifted on the bench, and she had to resist the urge to lean into him, as if she wanted to touch more of him rather than less.

Why did she remain so aware of him?

They arrived at the ice shop, and James parked in the sun, asking them what they wanted and then leaving them to wait while he purchased the ices.

Jane chattered as if she didn’t notice how quiet and withdrawn Belinda had become.

Belinda wasn’t sure whether to thank her sister for ignoring her mood or beg her to ask what was wrong.

James returned with his hands full. “Two brown bread.” He handed one to Jane. “And one pistachio.” He passed it to Belinda.

“Thank you,” the sisters parroted, perfectly in sync.

Belinda took a small bite, and her nose wrinkled. Perhaps she was picky, but her ice wasn’t nearly as good as she’d hoped it would be. She took another bite. It lacked something. Just like with her mood, she couldn’t discern exactly what was missing.

“You don’t like it?” James asked.

She shrugged and, unwilling to admit she had chosen poorly, said, “It is fine.”

“You don’t like it,” he stated. “Here. Trade me.” He held his ice in front of her.

“I cannot take your ice,” she protested.

“You aren’t taking it. We’re swapping. I’ll eat most anything, and this way you can try another flavor. If you don’t like mine, I’ll give you yours back.” He thrust his ice even closer to her.

She hesitated, and Jane added, “It’s good. You’ll like it.”

“Fine,” she relented.

After swapping, she was determined to be critical, so she took the smallest bite imaginable.

James wasn’t impressed. “That was hardly even a taste,” he urged. “Try a real bite.”

“Fine,” she repeated and tripled the size of her first bite.

It was far tastier than her selection. “It is good,” she grudgingly admitted.

“Excellent.” James smiled. “You keep that one then,” he said before taking a bite of hers.

More unsettled than she’d been in the park, she finished his ice in silence. Why did he have to be so bloody kind?

* * *

By the time James returned home, it was nearly dark.

Since the only engagement on his calendar that evening was the musical that Jane had told him she and Belinda were not attending, he headed toward his study instead of going straight to his chambers to change into evening wear.

“Please let my mother know that I will be staying in tonight,” he informed his butler. “The carriage will be at her disposal.”

“Of course, Your Grace. But?—”

“If she would like to dine before she leaves, make sure the kitchen provides her with a tray. I have some business to attend to and will eat in my study.”

“Of course,” the butler responded. “But your?—”

James pushed open the door. The hearth was already lit, and a tightly coiled bun streaked liberally with white was visible over the top of the settee closest to the fireplace. It appeared that Griggs did not need to inform his mother of anything.

“Mother,” he said, striding across the room. “Why are you waiting for me? Is something amiss?”