“No, me neither. I found him very charming at first, but he seems rather unkind. Still, my mother had made it clear that I am to be lady-like and very proper while I’m here, so I should probably watch my tongue.”
She shouldn’t have said that. Lord Lanwood glanced down at her, and Felicity could almost feel the heat of his gaze on her cheek. She didn’t look at him. It was easier to keep her eyes on the road ahead, and to remind herself that very soon they’d be out of the greenery and back under the unblinking eye of Society.
And her mother.
She was right, of course. In a few moments, the path opened up onto the lawn, with a smooth slope of fresh, green grass leading down to the terrace, where the rest of the party waited.
Lord Vincent was already halfway down the lawn, hunched over, head lowered, marching with a purpose. Felicity couldn’t see his face, but she would wager it was as black as thunder.
Mama won’t mind my offending him, if I say it was to oblige Lord Lanwood,she thought.Not that Lord Lanwood is the slightest bit interested in me.
He didn’t seem angry with her, at least. After the lecture he’d delivered in the library, Felicity had been quite sure that the man disliked her intensely, but perhaps he was just a brusque sort.
She thought she’d almost remember the look of fear and pain on his face when wretched Lord Vincent shattered that glass behind him. His hand had jerked up to his head, almost protectively, and for a half-minute there was a blind look of panic in his eyes, the sort of a look a person might experience if they were entirely focused inward on their own pain and their own personal world.
It was a cruel trick of Lord Vincent’s, and she was sure he’d done it deliberately.
Movement on the terrace caught her attention, as they moved in pairs across the lawn.
“Oh,” Felicity remarked. “There are some newcomers. They’re dreadfully late.”
There were a handful of people she did not recognize, and one young woman.
The woman was tall, a little taller than was fashionable, and had curling fair hair done in a modern style. She was remarkably beautiful and wore a pale pink gown trimmed with lace and ruffles. They were now close enough to hear her peal of laughter, a trilling sound that was pleasant to hear but almost certainly well-rehearsed. She was standing with Mrs. Langley, who looked a little bewildered and nervous. That, of course, was not surprising, if latecomers had suddenly arrived,afterthe luncheon was over.
“I wonder who she is? A friend of Lucy’s, I wonder?” Felicity asked aloud and happened her glance up at Lord Lanwood.
She almost faltered when she did so. He’d gone grey, and was staring at the woman with an intent, fixed expression.
“Lord Lanwood?” Felicity ventured. “Are you quite alright? Is it your megrims?”
He swallowed hard, glancing sharply down at her as if he’d just remembered that she was there.
“No, not at all,” he managed weakly. A little further down, Lord Vincent descended from the grass lawn onto the terrace, his gaze lingering on the beautiful stranger with a thorough scrutiny though she did not acknowledge his assessment.
The woman happened to look their way, and kept her eyes trained on them as they approached.
Blue eyes, Felicity noticed. Very bright blue, large and round and fringed with golden lashes. The closer they got, the more perfectly the lady appeared. Perhaps her gown was a littletoopink and lacy for an al-fresco luncheon, but no matter.
“Do you know her?” Felicity murmured again. Soon they’d be too close for private conversations. Already she was close enough to hear the people on the terrace talking amongst themselves. The quiet and privacy of the walk was behind them, and it was time to pin on their best faces and smoothest manners.
“I… I do know her,” Lord Lanwood managed thickly. “Her name is Miss Miranda Sinclair. Although, I haven’t seen her for some time, so perhaps she is no longer amiss.”
Felicity glanced at him searchingly, but his face gave away nothing. The grey panic of before had gone, and his face was flat and impenetrable.
The woman – Miss Sinclair, it seemed – was still looking at them. She murmured a graceful excuse to Mrs. Langley and moved towards the edge of the terrace, waiting for the walkers to join her.
There was really no way of avoiding her, unless they rudely and obviously circled the whole terrace. Biting back a grimace, Felicity stepped onto the terrace first, and Lord Lanwood after her.
It was hard to explain why the woman left her feeling so unsettled. She was more beautiful than Felicity, certainly, but Felicity had encountered many women who were more beautiful than she was, and it had never bothered her before. Was it the intent and possessive way Miss Sinclair was looking at Lord Lanwood?
No,thatcould certainly not be true.
“Lord Lanwood,” Miss Sinclair fluted. “How good to see you. I am quite uninvited, but dear Mrs. Langley assures me that it is no trouble at all. She is always so kind.”
She extended a hand, and Lord Lanwood took it somewhat mechanically.
Bows were exchanged, with Miss Sinclair sinking into a graceful and somewhat theatrical curtsey. Then she turned her attention and her thoughtful blue gaze onto Felicity.
