Exactly how much had his relatives seen? Elizabeth worried, had they witnessed her brazenly throwing herself into his embrace?
“Purely an accident we happened to sight you two at the old castle. Now, let me see, what were we discussing?” Lady Alameda tapped her spoon against the tablecloth. “Oh yes, I don’t believe you answered my question, Lady Elizabeth. Did you enjoy yourself?”
Lord Ransley coughed and frowned heavily at his sister over the edge of his kerchief. “Second course already, Honore, and you’ve hardly touched your soup.”
The countess lifted another spoonful, a piece of thinly sliced bacon dripping over the edge, and mumbled. “Hmm. Well, it certainly looked to me like she was enjoying herself.” She slurped loudly.
Lord Ransley heaved a sigh at his ornery sister.
Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed up, and her soupspoon wobbled horridly as she attempted to carry it to her mouth. A slice of celery dropped to the table.
19
Silver Threads of Moonlight Muddles
The remainder of dinner passed in relative silence apart from Lord Ransley’s coughing spasms. As they finished up over quince tarts and Stilton cheese, he announced that he had hired some local musicians to entertain them for the evening.
Lady Alameda grumbled, “Don’t tell me it’s those bothersome Meyerson sisters and their old maid aunt. Who ever heard of three spinsters serving as musicians? Most peculiar. If anyone were to ask me, I’d say they were up to some sort of mischief.”
“High praise, indeed.” Valen rolled his father’s chair out of the dining room and down the hallway. “Especially coming from you, a lady so well known for orchestrating a wide variety of mischief.”
“Me? Fiddle faddle. Stand aside, I’ll do this.” She nudged Valen out of the way and took over pushing Lord Ransley. “Mischievous. Me? Ha. You are all about in your head, my boy. Obviously, you’ve had too much wine with dinner.” Putting her back into the task, she shoved her brother vigorously ahead of Valen into the gallery.
“She saw everything.” Elizabeth whispered to him.
“Can you doubt it?”
No, but she had hoped.
Valen chuckled, obviously not as disconcerted as she, and led her into a long gallery whose doors hung open to the gardens in the back of the manor.
Three middle-aged women sprang to attention at their approach and curtseyed charmingly to Lord Ransley. He expressed his gratitude at their coming on such short notice and explained that he wished to take the evening air, stroll about the garden, while they played.
“Your excellent music,” he explained, “will make the evening perfect.”
The three musicians took their places at their instruments, the piano, a harp, and flute.
Before they went out through the large double doors, Lady Alameda turned to Elizabeth and whispered behind her fan, “Perhaps you might like to perform with them Lady Elizabeth? You play the recorder, do you not?”
Elizabeth endeavored to smile. “Perhaps the sound did not carry well enough across the fields, my lady. I am certainly not proficient enough to play for company.”
“Ah, well, a pity. You would fit so well in their midst, don’t you think?” She waved at the spinster trio warming up their instruments.
Lady Alameda pushed her brother through the doors, leaving Elizabeth to brood over that lady’s acidic observation. Although, it was possible Lady Alameda had meant her pastel gown would coordinate with the light shades of the fluttering pink and green gowns of the sisters? But it was far more likely the countess meant that she, like the musicians, was a spinster.
Lord St. Evert took Elizabeth’s arm, and they walked in the evening air. The scent of roses floated like twirling gauze on the breeze, brushing against their nostrils while the piquant notes of Mozart’s concerto danced around them like audible fireflies.
The manor gardens were fit for a royal palace, with huge ball-and-arrow topiaries that must have taken decades to shape, stone benches, and a fountain in the center. In the waning light Elizabeth could not identify the individual flowers, but she caught glimpses of their color patterns artistically arranged in neatly kept borders.
In short order, Lord Ransley’s cough worsened. “Regrettably, I must retire for the evening.” He had another fit and waved his hand at them. “But I insist you must stay, enjoy the music and air as long as you wish.” As he continued to cough, Lady Alameda rolled him back to the house.
Elizabeth watched them go and couldn’t help but feel she and Valen had been maneuvered into this intimate situation. “Perhaps we ought to return as well.”
Valen brushed a lacewing fly away from her hair. “It would be a pity to waste such a beautiful night, such a perfect setting. Indeed, I believe the two of them have gone to a great deal of trouble to make it nearly ideal.”
Nearly? What could be lacking, she wondered, aside from the correct partner to share it with. “It is too bad Miss Dunworthy cannot be here to share it with you.”
“Don’t spoil it, Izzie.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Can you really be so blind?”
She said nothing but watched him press a kiss on her fingers.
“Even my father is under the impression I feel passionately about you.”
“You must enlighten him.”
The corner of his mouth curled up. “And how would you suggest I do that?”
“Tell him the truth, that you dislike me excessively.”
“The truth? Then I would have to explain to him that I wish to make love to you every time I see you.” He set her hand, the one he had just kissed, on his forearm. “Did I mention that you look particularly bewitching tonight?”
“No.” She stared at him, dazed.
“Well, you do.” He smiled warmly. “I’d mistakenly thought your inventive gowns were partly to blame for my inability to resist you. Yet tonight, when I saw you in this dress which reveals nothing, and still I felt such an overwhelming—”
“Stop.” She held up her hand. “Kindly repeat that part again.”
“Which part.”
“The...” She bit the edge of her lip, unsure how to
