LITMIR.BIZ

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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 school mistress, her movements never exaggerated as if trying to draw attention to herself. Both twins were magnificent, but when they were together, it was only natural for the eye to travel first to Nicole.

      Men were so easily dazzled by the obvious, making straight for the glittering diamond, overlooking the perfect pearl.

      What would the gentlemen of the ton see now, when Lydia made her appearances in the Park, in the ballrooms all across Mayfair? Would they see what he had seen from the very start?

      Was he out of his mind, as Rafe fairly well suggested, to allow any other man within twenty feet of her when he already knew he wanted her for himself?

      Probably.

      “Lydia,” Tanner said, bowing in her direction. “I thought some fresh air might be welcome after the past few days of rain. We should be just in time for the Promenade.”

      She gifted him with a small, elegant curtsy. “Good afternoon, Tanner. How nice of you to think of me. Hyde Park? I’ve only been there in the mornings, to take the air. I heard it is a sad crush at five in the afternoon. Are you sure you wish to dare it?”

      “Oh, he’ddare anything. Wouldn’t you, Tanner? He’s a very daring man,” Rafe said, kissing his sister on the cheek. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I have to go grovel at my brilliant wife’s dainty feet—the ones she increasingly insists I tell her still exist. Tanner, were you planning to attend Lady Chalfont’s ball this evening?”

      Tanner looked at him, grateful for Rafe leading him so easily into the moment. “The invitation is among those stacked on my mantelpiece, yes. And I hear it may prove to be an entertaining evening.”

      “Wonderful. Lydia, do you hear that? You now have an escort, unless you wish my company instead. I really do need to work on my speech for Parliament, the one that will most probably earn me a few whistles and catcalls when I again mention that it’s time we began taking care of our poor soldiers.”

      Lydia looked from Rafe to Tanner, confusion clear in her eyes. “I shouldn’t wish to take you away from such an important speech, just to squire me. But, Tanner, there is no reason for you to sacrifice yourself in the role of chaperone, either. I have no crushing desire to attend the ball in any case.”

      Tanner offered her his arm and walked her toward the foyer, throwing a silent thank you back over his shoulder at Rafe. “What? And miss out on those wonderful Gunther Ices I hear are to be served in the supper room? I’ve been looking forward to them all day, now that I think of it. And I also heard that her ladyship has commissioned an ice sculpture in the form of a pair of extremely long-necked swans. Ten feet high, I’m told. In this heat? We really should want to be there for the moment those long, delicate necks melt and the

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