lord! What a place to realise that he desired a woman! Especially a woman as untouchable as his aunt’s protégée and goddaughter. Unthinkable.
Well, no, not unthinkable precisely, since he was thinking about it. But definitely inappropriate.
Carefully he stepped back, his mind reeling at the wave of tenderness that poured over him. At the sight of her smiling up at him, all shadows fled, just as he had wanted. This was different, somehow—more than desire. Oh, he’d always liked his partners—what was the point in going to bed and being intimate with someone you didn’t like? But this shattering ache?
‘More champagne, Thea?’ he suggested, in as light a tone as he could muster. He’d known Thea for so long—not surprising if he felt protective towards her. She was lovely—desire was not surprising either. But this tenderness, this welling up of delight merely to see her smile … to see her smile in his arms—this was different.
‘Good evening, Mr Blakehurst.’
Chill disapproval splintered in the voice.
Richard turned slowly to find Lord Aberfield watching them, his face expressionless. ‘Lord Aberfield.’ He acknowledged the older man with a bow. Beside him, Thea stood motionless. Silent.
The moment stretched as Richard felt the tension sing between the pair of them. He flicked a glance at Thea. No shadows, but the woman he had been dancing with was gone. In her place stood a marble statue, blue eyes frozen to arctic winter.
Then, in a voice that cut like a polar wind, she spoke. ‘Good evening, my lord.’
A perfectly correct form of address … for a perfect stranger. As a young woman’s greeting to her father, it was the ultimate snub. And in that icily correct voice, it was a snub with a sting in the tail.
Not surprisingly Aberfield’s face turned slightly purple.
Thea continued, ‘You are well again, my lord?’
‘Very well,’ he grated. ‘A word with you, Dorothea! In private.’
Her brows lifted. ‘Oh? Yes, I think that is possible.’
Aberfield’s teeth grated audibly at the implication that Thea might have, if she had chosen, refused his request. ‘Perhaps, daughter,’ he said with silky emphasis, ‘you would come with me, then. There is much that I wish to discuss with you. Privately.’
‘Now?’ Her fan flickered open with a swish, and she disappeared behind it. ‘I assumed you meant to call tomorrow at Arnsworth House. Yes, that would be better. Far more scope for privacy there. What time will suit you?’
‘Now would suit me!’ snapped Aberfield.
Thea’s smile was a naked blade. ‘I am afraid, dear sir, that Lady Arnsworth would be sadly inconvenienced were I to steal her carriage and return home now. But I am perfectly happy to hold myself at your disposal tomorrow. Call at whatever time suits you. I promise you shall find me home.’
For a moment it looked as though Aberfield might explode, but he nodded and stalked away.
To say that Lady Arnsworth was unimpressed the following morning to hear that her protégée had undertaken to remain at home all day awaiting her father’s convenience, would have been an understatement.
‘You were to drive with Lady Chasewater, you remember?’ said Lady Arnsworth.
‘I sent her a note explaining,’ said Thea. A very convenient added benefit she had not thought of at the time. ‘I felt my father’s request must take precedence.’
There was no answer to that, and Lady Arnsworth didn’t attempt one, only saying, ‘But he gave no indication of when he might call?’
Thea contrived to look repentant. ‘No, ma’am. He wished to speak to me privately, and at a ball—’ She spread her hands. No need to tell Lady Arnsworth that it had been her strategy to avoid leaving the safety of a crowd with Aberfield. She didn’t trust him an inch.
Lady Arnsworth pursed her lips. ‘Very well, my dear. There is nothing to be done. I must pay some calls this afternoon, and I shall drive in the park afterwards. Naturally I shall give instructions to Myles that he must admit only your father, and any female visitors you might have. No gentlemen, of course, unless your brother were to call.’ A very faint smile played about her lips.
‘Oh, of course,’ agreed Thea.
Lady Arnsworth nodded. ‘Yes. And, dear, if you play chess with Richard again, it might be for the best if you were to leave the door open.’
Thea’s jaw dropped, as her ladyship continued, ‘You may trust Richard, of course, as you would your own brother, but it doesn’t do to give the gossips the least bit of encouragement, you know. If anyone were to call and find you together—well!’ She patted Thea’s hand. ‘Your father wouldn’t like it at all.’
Chapter Six
‘Lord Aberfield is here to see you, miss,’ said Myles. ‘Shall I show him in here?’
Thea laid down her pen and considered the alternatives. She was in the back parlour, writing a note to accept an invitation to attend a picnic with Diana Fox-Heaton the following week. While being received in there would sting his pride, she hesitated. Somehow the back parlour of Arnsworth House was associated with happy times, with her childhood visiting the house, with Richard teaching her to play chess, with his slightly crooked smile. She did not want Aberfield anywhere within spitting distance of those memories.
‘No. Show his lordship into the drawing room, please, Myles. And, Myles—?’ An inner demon suggested another way she might infuriate Aberfield. ‘Tell his lordship that I will be with him very shortly.’
She heard Aberfield being ushered into the next room, heard Myles offer refreshment, and heard it refused. Deliberately she completed her letter to Diana. And read it over. Then she sealed it, addressed it, rang the bell and waited for Myles.
When he came, she smiled and handed him the note with instructions to have it delivered at once. ‘And bring tea to the drawing room in fifteen minutes, please, Myles.’
Then, feeling that she had made her point, Thea settled her elegant morning gown, tucked a stray curl back into place under her lace cap, assumed an indifferent expression, and strolled through the door connecting the back parlour and drawing room.
‘Good afternoon, my lord. I’ve kept you waiting.’ It could be construed as an apology. Just.
Aberfield turned and glared at her. ‘Where the devil have you been, miss?’ His colour was high, and the faded blue eyes glittered at her.
She granted him her most gracious smile. ‘Finishing a letter, my lord. Do be seated and tell me what I may do for you.’ She sat in a small chair set slightly apart, and waited.
Aberfield didn’t waste time on niceties. ‘You can tell me what the devil you’re playing at with Blakehurst,’ he snarled. ‘Waltzing with him when Dunhaven had honoured you with an invitation to dance!’
