Cupid's Choice: She's a shy beauty in distress. He's a chivalric gentleman. (2 page)

Guin was relieved and grateful that the embarrassing moment had passed. The maid seemed confident that the soaked half boots could be salvaged. She had said no more about it while she undid the mother-of-pearl buttons down the front of Guin’s pelisse.

Instead, the woman concentrated on dressing her young mistress and did so with a slightly chiding monologue that Guin found peculiarly soothing. Little was required of her except that she turn this way or that while the gown was twitched into place and fastened up the back, and that she hold up first one sleeve and then the other to be buttoned.

In fewer minutes than Guin thought possible, she was changed into the dull blue merino gown and a ribbon had been threaded through her freshly combed glistening black curls. The maid gave her a soft gray wool shawl to drape over her elbows and Guin felt ready to brave the halls of her temporary home. She smiled at her tiring-woman, with whom she had established a perfect understanding. “Thank you, Morgan.”

The maid nodded and gave a spare smile. “I will have your room straightened for you before you return from dinner, miss.”

Guin left the bedroom, closing the solid door behind her, and began to retrace her way back along the unfamiliar hallway toward the head of the stairs. Her maid had told her the general location of the front parlor on the ground floor, where the family would gather before dinner.

She didn’t know which bedrooms had been given to the rest of her family, but for the moment it was a matter of little importance. Indeed, she had not the least desire to find out. Guin hurried her steps. She expected to meet Colonel Caldar and her brother downstairs once they had also changed for dinner.

Guiltily, Guin acknowledged to herself that she was going down early in order to escape any summons from her mother. Guin assuaged her conscience by telling herself that her mother would probably have laid down for her customary hour nap, leaving herself free to look for her brother and her uncle. Since she had not already received a message to come to her mother’s room, she could only suppose that fortune smiled on her.

She hurried on, not wanting to linger and perhaps be found by her mother’s dresser. Guin had already gathered the impression that this individual was rather awe-inspiring, and she preferred to put off meeting the woman as long as possible, especially considering the likelihood that the only reason the dresser would have for seeking her out would be to relay a message from Mrs. Holland. Guin nodded to herself, as it occurred to her that the new dresser would undoubtedly be very capable of caring for any needs that Mrs. Holland might have.

Able at last to set aside her most overriding anxiety, Guin began to feel a bubble of anticipation. It would be interesting to explore some of the town house before dinner. She had never traveled to London before, nor ever set foot in a town house. Rather, she and her brother and mother had always lived in the country, so she was curious about their new surroundings.

As Guin left the landing and started down the stairs, she was hailed by her brother. “Guin! Wait and I’ll walk down with you,” said Lord Holybrooke, loping along the paneled hallway toward her, the carpet muffling the sounds of his boots. He had changed into a tight-fitting bottle-green coat and fawn breeches. His unruly black hair had been ruthlessly brushed and his crumpled cravat replaced with a fresh one. His dark gray-blue eyes gleamed with liveliness, while a wide grin flashed across his face. As she always did, Guin thought there could not be anyone who was more handsome than her own twin.

“Of course, Percy.” She waited until he caught up with her, before saying with a mischievous smile, “Mama would frown to see you rushing through the house in such a reckless manner, Percy.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Never you mind, Miss Anxious. Mama told me that she wished to rest an hour before coming downstairs. We have some time to ourselves. Let’s take a quick tour of our fancy London abode.” He took her arm in an innately polite gesture that was as much a part of him as breathing, and now he urged her on down the stairs.

Guin gladly accepted her brother’s company. They had always been inseparable. She was never happier than when she was with Percy. He was her confidante and her best, and only, friend.

Together brother and sister made a tour of the various rooms on the ground floor that opened off the entry hall.

The town house had been let to Lord Holybrooke sight unseen, his agent assuring his lordship that it, and the small staff engaged for the Season, would be found to be all that was proper.

However, Lord Holybrooke was now discovering, somewhat to his dismay, that all was not as sanguine as he had been told. The front parlor was found to be of a good size and tastefully arranged, though the furniture was in need of a good polish. The library was a small, irregularly shaped room with a rather gloomy atmosphere due, Lord Holybrooke insisted, to the number of cobwebs in the corners and empty hearth. “It looks like something out of one of those dashed silly romances that Mama is so fond of!” he exclaimed.

Guin pointed out that since Mrs. Holland had decided to set out for London almost a week ahead of their scheduled departure from Holybrooke, there had been very little time for the newly engaged staff to set the house in order before their arrival. “I am certain the housekeeper will order a good cleaning, and it will look ever so much better to you, Percy.”

“So I should hope!” said Lord Holybrooke, backing out of the library with a last glance of revulsion.

The back sitting room and dining room were found to be barely adequate, which even Guin was forced to acknowledge. “They are not very large, are they?” she remarked doubtfully.

Lord Holybrooke agreed, adding bitterly, “Lord, won’t Mama kick up a fuss.”

The town house had been leased furnished, and Lord Holybrooke regarded each room with a darkening gaze and a sometimes critical word. Guin agreed with his disappointed assessments, though she thought the gilded mirror in the back sitting room was very fine and the front parlor was rather quaint.

“What does ‘quaint’ mean?” asked Lord Holybrooke, shaking his head and looking around again as they reentered the front parlor. It was by far the most pleasant room, having large windows that let in the last of the sunlight, and by mutual consent they had returned to it. Candles had been lit in candelabras that were set around the parlor, adding to its cheerful aspect.

“Well, I think it sounds better than old-fashioned,” said Guin with the glimmer of a smile. “Indeed, perhaps we should describe the entire residence as quaint, for Mama will not care for us to call anything about it old-fashioned! Not when she is living here! It was her biggest complaint about Holybrooke, after all.”

Lord Holybrooke grinned, the expression in his eyes affectionate. “You’re a born diplomat, Guin. You’re able to find a good word for everything.”

Used to her brother’s ways, Guin paid scant attention to his funning compliment. She looked around thoughtfully, speaking her conclusions out loud. “The town house is not nearly as grand as Holybrooke, is it? And the furnishings are very nearly as out of fashion.”

Lord Holybrooke’s smile faded as a frown once more descended on his face. “What else can one expect of a place only leased for the Season? My agent was fortunate to find even such a fashionable address as this one, you know. I am just as thankful he did, for Mama would have pitched a fit if we had not been able to come up to town for the Season.” Lord Holybrooke threw his lean length into a wing chair in front of the crackling fire.

Guin sighed. She sat down on the cushions of the striped sofa opposite her brother. “Yes, I know. Poor Mama! It was difficult for her to be in black gloves and not able to go to any parties. She was very bored at Holybrooke, I fear.”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t! Every day I was up practically at dawn to go over the accounts or to tramp over the fields, all the while with old Grimsley droning on and on about estate business. The only thing that brightened my days was when I could persuade Mama to let me take you riding with me,” said Lord Holybrooke on a long-suffering sigh.

“Those were the best times for me, too,” said Guin with a quick smile.

“Well, then, you do understand,” said Lord Holybrooke, responding with his own grin. “I was never more relieved in my life than to come up to London for the Season and leave old Grimsley behind.”

“I know it was difficult for you, Percy. But Mr. Grimsley was pleased with your progress, surely?” asked Guin.

“Oh, as to that! He was well enough pleased, I suppose.” Lord Holybrooke frowned for a moment over his thoughts. He looked up. “The only thing is, Guin, Grimsley expressed some reservations about what the estate resources could handle at this time. Our reprobate of a grandfather, whom I am glad we never met, ran everything into the ground so devilishly bad that it will take years for a profit to be turned again. I only wish Mama had not insisted on coming up to London as soon as we put off black gloves.”

“As do I,” said Guin quietly. Looking down, she clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap. “Mama had a long talk with me before we left Holybrooke. She has expressed her desire to see me wed, Percy.” She looked up at her brother with a troubled expression. “I-I don’t know that I wish to be wed just yet.”

Better than anyone, Lord Holybrooke understood the depths of her concern and what she had not said. “You don’t have to marry unless you want to, Guin. I shall see to it that you are not bullied into it,” he said forcefully.

“Thank you, Percy. You are the best of brothers,” said Guin, smiling tremulously. Her countenance bore a strong resemblance to her brother’s, with the same straight nose and short upper lip. But her face was a more perfect oval and her chin was pointed rather than determined. Her eyes were also a darker and truer blue, being the shade of a midnight sky on a moonlit night.

“After all, I am the head of the family,” said Lord Holybrooke with an exaggerated assumption of arrogance. He narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils, looking down his nose at Guin. As he had hoped it would, his playacting made his twin sister laugh.

“What? Are you already becoming affected by the rarefied air of London and puffing yourself off, Percy?” asked Colonel Caldar, coming into the front parlor in time to overhear his nephew’s declaration. He had put off his riding clothes in favor of a well-cut dark blue coat and breeches. His thick wavy hair had been brushed back from his broad brow and that, together with his unmistakably soldierly bearing, made him look almost leonine.

Lord Holybrooke and Guin laughed, their eyes automatically searching one another out as they shared their amusement. Their features and even their mannerisms were remarkably alike, although it could be observed by the discerning that Lord Holybrooke possessed a greater air of self-confidence than did his sister.

“I am an earl, after all,” said Lord Holybrooke, still with a grin lingering on his lips.

“And a very fine one, too,” agreed Colonel Caldar with a hearty laugh. “Now, my lord, I am come to discover if you would care to go about the town with me a little later this evening.”

Lord Holybrooke bolted to his feet on the instant. His gray-blue eyes glowed with pleased surprise. “Would I, sir! I can think of nothing grander!” He suddenly bethought himself of his sister and he turned toward her hastily, his expression at once falling. “But Guin—

“No, Percy, you mustn’t spoil your own evening, or indeed, our uncle’s, upon my account. You know that Mama will wish me to wait on her,” said Guin with a smile, putting on a brave front even though her heart had sunk.

Colonel Caldar muttered something under his breath. He turned away to kick a log farther into the fire, creating a shower of crimson and gold sparks.

Lord Holybrooke grimaced. “That’s just it, Guin! How can I be so selfish when I know what a rotten time you will have of it?”

Guin stood up, her smile determinedly held in place. Not for anything would she have betrayed her true feelings. If she had ever been asked about it, she would have said that it was right that she was in the habit of putting her brother’s interests above her own. “I don’t mind very much, really! After all, I can’t go with you to all those horrid haunts that our uncle is certain to take you.”

“No, of course not,” said Lord Holybrooke, still with a clouded brow. “But still—

“I am rather tired, you know, after the journey. I had a tickle in my throat, too. I expect I shall go up to bed early,” said Guin. Quickly she added, “And I expect Mama will, also. You know how pulled she gets after a long journey.”

The earl’s countenance cleared. “Truly, Guin? Then that’s all right. I mean, if you really intend to retire early, it wouldn’t be very amusing here anyway.”

“No,” agreed Guin, stifling a sigh. She turned to her uncle. “I want to thank you for your kindness in ordering the posset, sir. It was very warming and did my throat some good, as well.”

“Guin, you’re not sickening, are you?” asked Lord Holybrooke worriedly.

Guin laughed and shook her head. “Of course not! When have you ever known me to be ill? I only got a little chilled, but I am quite all right now.”

A footman came into the room to announce dinner. The conversation was immediately abandoned as Lord Holybrooke pronounced himself to be starved. “Mama hasn’t joined us, so she must not have come down yet. She will be waiting for me, I expect. I shall go up and charm her a trifle as I bring her down to the dining room, shall I?”

Lord Holybrooke exited the front parlor, leaving Colonel Caldar to escort Guin. Before he led his niece out of the room, Colonel Caldar said gruffly, “I wasn’t thinking, my dear. I should never have suggested an outing our first night in London. I shall tell Percy that I’ve thought better of it.”

“Pray do not, for Percy would be horridly disappointed,” said Guin quickly with an earnest glance upward at her uncle.

“But you, my dear! You cannot like the prospect of an evening spent solely with my sister,” said Colonel Caldar with characteristic bluntness.

“Mama and I are very comfortable together,” said Guin stoutly. “Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to tie Percy to my apron strings.”

“I wish your mother felt the same,” said Colonel Caldar. His pleasantly featured face was troubled. “I apologize, Guin. I didn’t think it out. She’ll object to Percy’s going out on the town with me, which means she’ll make it deuced uncomfortable for us all, but especially for you.”

“Oh, no. Mama always lets Percy have whatever he wishes,” said Guin calmly.