An Innocent Deceit. Gail Whitiker

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be in the near future or not. And now, if you will excuse me, I fear I must be—’

      Sebastian broke off in mid-sentence, having turned and found himself staring into one of the loveliest faces he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. A pair of unusual grey-green eyes stared back at him from a face of alabaster perfection, while rose-kissed lips and a delightfully retroussé nose completed the charming visage. The lady’s rich, honey-coloured hair had been drawn softly up and back, allowing a few wispy tendrils to escape from beneath the brim of the charming straw bonnet to frame her face. She was wearing a simple gown of pale lemon muslin trimmed with white lace, over which she wore a spencer of a deeper yellow hue. Neither were styled in the first stare of fashion, but there was no denying that the modest outfit more than flattered the feminine curves of its owner.

      The young woman standing beside her was also very pretty, but as Sebastian waited for the introductions to be made, he felt his gaze drawn back towards the young lady with the beautiful eyes.

      ‘Lady Dalrymple, perhaps you would be so good as to introduce us,’ he said politely, when at length it seemed that no such courtesy was to be extended.

      ‘Hmm? Oh, yes, of course, my lord, forgive me.’ Lady Dalrymple quickly made the introductions, taking care to conceal the fact that she wished to do anything but.

      Both girls curtsied, as was expected. Lord Carlyle bowed first towards Catherine, as was her due, and then turned to address Antonia. ‘Hadley,’ he repeated thoughtfully. ‘Did I hear that correctly?’

      Antonia straightened slowly. She was not surprised that the Earl had asked for clarification of her name. Lady Dalrymple had uttered it so quickly as to render it almost unrecognisable. ‘You did, my lord.’

      ‘Then…could it be that you are also…Mr Peter Hadley’s daughter, and as such, a neighbour of mine?’

      Antonia was astonished that he would remember, but took care not to let it show. ‘Our property adjoins yours to the south, yes.’

      ‘How strange that we have never met, Miss Hadley.’

      ‘On the contrary, given that I spend so little time in London, and you so little in Kent, it is not surprising at all.’

      ‘Perhaps that is a shortcoming I can remedy by offering to call upon your mother and father at the earliest opportunity.’

      Antonia stiffened, and her eyes grew cold. ‘My mother died two years ago this November, my lord. Only my father and I reside at Buntings Hill now. I thought you might have heard.’

      Beside her, Lady Dalrymple made a faint choking sound but Antonia did not care. The fact that Lord Carlyle was not even aware that her mother—a woman who, by his own admission, was one of his closest neighbours—had passed away that long ago made her exceedingly angry. While he might not choose to live in the country, the very least he could have done was to keep abreast of the lives of the families who did.

      There was a brief silence as Lord Carlyle gazed down into her face. ‘Forgive me, Miss Hadley, I was not aware of your mother’s passing. Living in London has left me somewhat…out of touch. I can only say that I shall endeavour to set that to rights by paying a call upon you and your father at the earliest opportunity, in order that I might express my condolences to you both.’

      It was a genuinely offered sentiment and, aware that Lady Dalrymple was listening to every word, Antonia managed a small nod of assent. She did not wish news to travel back to her father that she had been rude to the Earl—whether he was deserving of it or not. But she could not bring herself to be any warmer towards him than that.

      ‘Now I hope I am not rushing my fences, Lord Carlyle,’ Lady Dalrymple said, anxious to regain control of the conversation, ‘but I wonder whether you might consider joining us on Friday evening, for a small intimate dinner to welcome you back to Upper Tipping.’

      The Earl reluctantly returned his attention to the speaker. ‘Thank you, Lady Dalrymple, but I fear I must decline your kind invitation, simply because I do not know how long I intend to remain in the area. However,’ he said, observing the crestfallen expression on the woman’s face—and aware that Miss Hadley was watching him closely, ‘if I am still in the vicinity and not otherwise engaged, I would be…pleased to dine with you.’

      It was all the lady needed to hear. ‘How very good of you to say so, Lord Carlyle. I know how busy you must be, and I shall only say that we would be delighted if you were able to join us at, shall we say, half past five?’

      Lord Carlyle winced and knowing the reason why, Antonia turned away to hide a smile. In London, she doubted that the Earl ever sat down to dine before eight. But this was the country, and here, half past five was the accepted time.

      ‘Thank you, Lady Dalrymple, I shall…endeavour to attend,’ he said finally. ‘But if circumstances warrant a change, I shall send a note round at the earliest opportunity.’

      ‘I hope there will be no need for such a note, my lord. However, if you are unable to join us, I know that it will only be as the result of a matter of extreme urgency,’ Lady Dalrymple said, not wishing to appear too desperate. ‘And now, I must be off. I did promise my girls that I would pick up a few items for them. La, there are just that many things to do when one has young, eligible daughters,’ she trilled.

      Again, Antonia took pains to hide her amusement. Lady Dalrymple was no more likely to buy lace for her daughters than a hare was to sit next to a fox. No doubt the errand she intended to set out upon was the informing of as many of the female residents of the neighbourhood as possible that the handsome and eminently eligible Earl of Carlyle had returned to Upper Tipping and of her good fortune in being the first to secure him to dine.

      ‘Interesting woman,’ Lord Carlyle remarked carefully as Lady Dalrymple took herself off, her feathered bonnet bristling with excitement. ‘Is she always so excitable?’

      ‘I think she was somewhat…overwhelmed by your arrival,’ Antonia informed him drily.

      She knew that her tone was somewhat sarcastic, and was not at all surprised when he addressed his next remark to Catherine. ‘Forgive me, Miss Shand, but I fear my arrival has prevented you from going about your business. May I, perhaps, offer you and Miss Hadley a ride somewhere?’

      At the unexpectedly kind gesture, Catherine blushed and promptly forget where they had been going. Antonia, who was far more in control of the situation—and bothered with an entirely new concern—gave him a polite but dismissive smile. ‘Thank you, Lord Carlyle, but our carriage is waiting just there.’

      Carlyle stared at her for a moment with eyes that were sharp and assessing. Antonia knew that she had sounded as unimpressed by his arrival—and by him—as Lady Dalrymple had been overwhelmed by it. But whether as a result of breeding—or simply a complete lack of interest as to what she thought—Lord Carlyle merely smiled and offered them a polite bow. ‘Then I shall detain you no longer. I bid you good day, ladies.’ With that, he walked into the merchant’s behind them and disappeared from view.

      As the door swung closed behind him, Antonia closed her eyes in relief, aware that her body was trembling all over. Beside her, Catherine merely let out a long, ecstatic sigh. ‘La, is he not the most handsome of gentlemen, Toni? And so very gallant. He does not seem at all like a rake to me. Does he to you, Toni? Toni!’

      ‘Hmm? Oh, no, I suppose he does not,’ Antonia muttered. ‘But I cannot believe what bad luck our running into him like this is.’

      ‘Bad

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