“Everything is talked of,” her aunt said with complacency. “After all, what is thetonto do but talk? None of us have any real employment. Oh, we fancy that embroidering a seat cushion or painting a screen is the most vital thing in the world. The gentlemen run around pretending at politics but accomplishing little. It’s all nonsense. Gossip is our real lifeblood.”
Though her aunt’s thoughts could sometimes be inexplicably winding, they also just as often hit upon some truth that nobody was willing to give voice to. In any case, it was encouraging that Mrs. Hemming, for one, was not overwrought by what she had viewed this night, nor what might be said about it on the morrow.
Lily was gratified that she’d won, though not particularly surprised by it. She’d taught that arrogant gentleman a lesson that she imagined must sting.
It was a shame he was so filled with arrogance, for there could not be a more handsome man in London. Those eyes! They were the color of dark emeralds. She had never seen anything like them.
Lily suppressed a smile. What a ninny she was to swoon over the first pair of fine eyes she encountered in town. Especially since those eyes were placed in the head of one who was so irritating. And, even if he were the most pleasant man alive, he was a gentleman of the pact. He’d sworn he would not marry, and so every lady of sense would be well advised to give him a wide berth.
In any case, Lily reminded herself that for all the diversions of the season to come, she was here for a serious purpose. She must get herself settled creditably, if not for herself, then for her sisters. There was no room in any of that for pondering a pair of fine eyes.
*
Hayes sat alonein the breakfast room of his house in Berkeley Square, glaring at the sideboard. He had consented to a cup of strong coffee but had not an appetite for anything more substantial. He was dimly aware that one of the footmen was staring at him fairly agog, as the boy was used to watching his master fill his plate with as much as it could hold.
Finally, he heard his butler clear his throat. “Is something amiss, my lord?” Cobb asked. “Might I fetch something else?”
“No, nothing,” Hayes said.
What an evening! What a blasted evening. It had begun with Hampton thinking it amusing to drag him in front of Miss Farnsworth’s notice. Now that Hampton was married, he seemed to find it a great game to tempt his friends who would avoid the state.
He would admit to Hampton presuming that Miss Farnsworth might tempt. At least, in looks. She was tall and slim, with a marvelous amount of dark hair. Then, there was that face, the chin with the slightest dimple, the lips so perfectly proportioned, and her eyes, those dark eyes…
Had she been an actress, he would have pursued her relentlessly.
However, looks alone did not make a lady. There was her temperament to consider, and that was where Miss Farnsworth fell far short of ideal.
She had none of the feminine graces! What lady would challenge him in such a manner? Her confidence was, well, it wasirritatingto say the least.
Hayes felt himself flush as he recalled the card game. It was his own fault that it had even occurred. Lady Hampton had wished to put a stop to it, but he found he could not resist putting the bold Miss Farnsworth in her place.
How was he to guess she would be so skilled? There had been something almost supernatural in her play. She seemed to always know what he held, and worse, what he would do. If he’d been in a gaming hell, he’d have looked for a strategically placed set of mirrors. He could not unravel how she’d been so good. She’d sunk a triplet of aces like a hardened card sharp! Worse, he’d fallen for it and lost some high cards for his trouble. He’d been all confidence that he’d take the last three tricks during that first game, never imagining she’d sunk her aces.
And then, so many people standing around to witness his defeat. He assumed it would be mere hours before the story was told in one drawing room after the next and likely embellished to boot.
After he’d left Lady Blakeley’s house, he’d gone to Lady Carradine’s club to gamble the night away. He knew perfectly well that he’d been drawn there to recover some of his dignity by ending the night as a winner, rather than loser. He had won, though not in a spectacular fashion. It had been a middling sort of evening, though he’d come out ahead.
While hehadbeen in the frame of mind for cards, he’d not been in the right temperament to put up with Lady Carradine’s recently arrived relative. Mr. Shine was come from America, Hayes was to understand. Mr. Shine had sold off something or other, a farm perhaps, and was now relocated to London.
Why the man kept talking to him, and why he had the temerity to relay so much information and ask so many questions, Hayes could not fathom. He liked Lady Carradine, but if her cousin insisted on making himself a pest, Hayes would go elsewhere.
Lady Carradine really ought to know better. Nobody came to her house for the conversation, and if they did, nobody would be much interested in conversing with Mr. Shine. Perhaps the proprietress ought to confine her cousin to attending the musical evenings nobody but a few of the ladies ever attended.
Hayes’s thoughts drifted out of Lady Carradine’s club and back to Miss Farnsworth and her miraculous amount of dark waves of hair. It was a shame she was not as a lady should be. Or perhaps it was a blessing. Who knows how far down a road he might travel if she’d made herself pleasant.
A footman came in and announced Lord Cabot.
“Cabot?” Hayes asked. “What does he do here so early?”
Cabot himself strode in and answered. “I decided I’d avail myself of your board,” he said, glancing at it. “I thought it might be amusing to attack a plate of sausage and eggs while you tell me how you possibly lost at cards to some chit of a girl named Famesworth.”
“Farnsworth,” Hayes said. “Good God, how has the story made the rounds this early?”
“It was rather late, actually,” Cabot said, piling his plate high. Though he’d only mentioned sausage and eggs, it seemed the lord would not look askance at absolutely everything else the house had on offer. When he’d filled one plate and looked about, Cobb handed him another, which was promptly stacked with rolls.
Sitting down with the two plates ranged in front of him, Lord Cabot said, “A fellow named Mr. Simmons arrived to Lady Galliton’s house while we were all settled into cards and told the story. I said he must be mistaken, but he claims he was on the scene at Lady Blakeley’s dinner.”
“So he was. I found him annoying.”
