enjoy her company,” Tanner said, his eyes shifting toward the carpet at his feet. “Taking her out for the occasional drive, visiting the Elgin Marbles. I certainly wouldn’t say I’ve felt any of it a hardship.” He lifted his gaze again. “Have there been any suitors? I should think you’d be knee-deep in them.”
Rafe shook his head. “Oh, no, let me correct that. There has been one, but I sent him away. Damn near booted him down the stairs, as a matter of fact. One dance at Lady Hertford’s ball, and the mushroom had the nerve to come propose marriage to Lydia’s dowry, and then only after his plea for Nicole’s dowry fell on deaf ears. It hasn’t been easy, coming home from the war, falling into the dukedom, dealing with the twins who, to my shame, I barely remembered. Thank God for Charlie’s steady common sense.”
“Your wife is much too good for you, yes, but then you’ve always been a lucky bastard.”
Rafe grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Don’t tell her. She mistakenly believes I’m quite the grand catch.”
Tanner sat back against the cushions, content to be with his friend, in this place, in this time. He enjoyed visiting Grosvenor Square, and would miss Rafe when the Season was over and they all deserted the city for their country estates. It probably would be another year until he saw Rafe again. Or Lydia.
“Rafe? Just because her sister isn’t here, Lydia can’t be allowed to shy away from Society for the remainder of the Season.”
“I know. But Charlie is adamant in refusing to go into Society as she is. Women,” Rafe said, his handsome features softening. “She’s never looked more beautiful to me, but she has vowed that until she can see her own shoe-tops again, she is banning herself from all social engagements outside this house. And now that Mrs. Buttram is spending the majority of her time with her wrapped foot on a cushion—gout, she tells us—I imagine it’s up to me to boost Lydia out of here from time to time.”
“Not necessarily. My cousin is in town, and—”
“The one you’re to be betrothed to at any moment, according to my wife, who may not go out in Society, but still manages to know every piece of gossip?”
Tanner once again took refuge in examining the fine Aubusson carpet. “Jasmine Harburton, my third cousin, yes. Her father seems to take the marriage as all but an accomplished fact, and he’s a man not known for his reticence. The rumor has come back to me a dozen times, and I’ve been told at least two adventurous souls have written down a wager on the thing in the betting book at White’s. Supposedly it was my father’s deathbed wish that I marry Jasmine, you see, bringing their small estate into our holdings. She’s an amenable enough young woman, but…”
“But, honorable man that you are, you’re finding yourself growing rather weary of dead people planning out your life for you?” Rafe suggested, and then quickly took a sip from his glass, keeping his expression blank.
“Thank you for saying that for me. When I say it, or even think it, I feel rather cold and callous. Especially where Fitz is concerned. But, God, Rafe, the man was dying. Clinging to my hand with his last strength as the battle still raged a few miles away from that pitiful ruined barn where I’d found him. I would have agreed to anything he’d asked at that moment, to make his passing easier.”
A flash of pain crossed Rafe’s features. Fitz had been his closest friend during six years of war on the Peninsula. If he hadn’t inherited the dukedom, hadn’t been handed the responsibility for his sisters and mother and all of the Ashurst estates, he would have gone to Brussels with his friend for that last confrontation with Bonaparte. Instead, he had stayed behind, to work inside the War Office. Tanner knew what the man thought: Rafe could never know if his presence on the battlefield might have made a difference, to Fitz’s future, to his own. “But now?”
Tanner saw Rafe’s expression and mentally kicked himself for a fool, bringing up old pain. Yet fool he was, as he debated as to whether or not he should keep his own counsel. But this was Rafe, his good friend. “And now I’m here because I want to be here. I think I’ve known that from the moment I first pulled Lydia into my arms as she flailed at me in her grief.”
Rafe shook his head ruefully as he slapped at his thigh. “Right again. Blast that Charlie, she’s always right. She was right about Lucas, and now she’s right about you. How do women do it?”
“I don’t know,” Tanner admitted, almost sighed…except that women sighed; men got themselves royally drunk. “Lydia no longer sees me as the enemy, her personal agent of death or whatever, but now I’m Fitz’s good friend, probably a constant reminder of him. Hell of a turn, isn’t it? He asks me to take care of her, watch over her…and I’m seeing myself as usurping his place in her life. I doubt that’s what he had in mind.”
“And now you’re feeling guilty, disloyal? Don’t do that. The past is the past, Tanner. It’s gone.”
“Is it? She loved him, Rafe. It’s too soon. I need to give her more time.”
“Don’t wait too long, my friend. If Fitz’s death taught us nothing else, it taught us that the luxury of time is just that. A luxury.”
Tanner got to his feet, unable to sit still any longer. “Now that she’s out from beneath Nicole’s…well, shining star, I suppose…let me take her into Society, Rafe. My cousin’s chaperone can easily handle them both. Lydia needs to understand that she is a beautiful young woman, inside and out. She always allowed Nicole to shine while she positioned herself in the background. If I’m to seriously pursue my suit, she needs to first find someone to compare me with other than Fitz.”
“You want her to be courted by other men? Is that what you’re saying?”
“God help me, yes, I suppose I am.”
“You don’t fear competition?”
“Not live competition, no, heartless as that sounds. A good man in life, in death I fear Fitz has been raised very nearly to sainthood by what was at the time a younger, very impressionable girl. She’s known only his companionship and now, to a very small extent, mine. I want to win her, I won’t lie about that, but not by default.”
“Charlie has mentioned to me, and not all that kindly, that men in love all seem to have maggots in their heads. Once again, Tanner, you’re proving the woman right. However, since you seem to be offering to take my place shepherding Lydia around Mayfair, who am I to argue, or to point out the obvious pitfalls? Although I will ask this, as I am Lydia’s brother and protector. You aren’t also using her to teach a lesson to Miss Harburton’s father about his presumptions?”
Tanner didn’t understand for a moment, and then smiled. “Well, now, Rafe, do you see that? I’m not as unselfish as you might think, am I. Even if I didn’t realize it until you pointed it out to me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, I suppose. Ah, what tangled webs we weave, and all that rot.”
“I’m not weaving a web. I’m being quite serious. I didn’t even consider using Lydia to throw hints to Thomas Harburton and his assumption that I will wed his—” Tanner cut off his protest as he turned toward the foyer, to see Lydia walking toward the doorway to the drawing room.
Nicole, bless her energetic self, seemed to explode into a room, bringing her wide smile and dancing eyes with her, as if every moment was a party, an adventure. Lydia walked with such grace, almost floated, her posture the dream of any boarding
