The Further Observations of Lady Whistledown (Lady W 1) (20 page)

It was really most distressing, Meg decided, thinking of the large number of her friends who had sat in this very room and sobbed aloud, crying over her brother’s indifference. But it was equally distressing to see him so uncharacteristically overwrought. “Let me ring for a hot cup of tea.”

“To hell with the tea.” Royce turned on his heel and paced to the window and back. “We have to do something about Liza. This…thing with Durham, it’s far more serious than either you or I realized.”

Meg’s heart sank. She’d had hopes for Durham, especially after last night. “Oh dear. He is a fortune hunter just as we suspected.”

“No,” Royce said heavily. “No, he’s not that.”

“He’s not a fortune hunter? Then what did you find out about that makes him an ineligible
parti
?”

Royce stopped a moment and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it just as abruptly, and resumed his pacing. He seemed caught in some sort of internal turmoil, striding angrily up and down the room, raking a hand through his hair and making it stand even more on end. Finally, he stopped before Meg and said, “Durham doesn’t intend on touching Liza’s funds. He feels it would be dishonorable. He doesn’t even want her to use them to support herself.”

“That’s…that’s good news, isn’t it?”

“No,” Royce said in a vehement voice. “Meg, he is wrong for her. If they marry, he will expect her to live in his house in the country.”

“And?”

Royce’s brows snapped lower. “Isn’t that enough? Can you imagine Liza living anywhere other than London? This is her home. It’s all she’s ever known.”

Meg struggled to understand. “Yes, but I’ve known plenty of couples who—”

“Furthermore,” Royce said without stopping. “Durham is not a man to appreciate independence. He will do what he can to depress her spirits. We cannot allow that to happen.”

“Liza
is
a bit unruly at times,” Meg conceded fairly. “She should never have waved to Darington last night.”

“Why not? She didn’t harm a soul. I daresay no one even noticed it.”

Meg wasn’t so sure about that. Still…She glanced at her brother, noticing the white lines about his mouth. This was a most unusual turn. Something else must have happened. She bit her lip and tossed about for an answer. “Royce, did you speak to Lady Birlington? She knows Durham’s family. Maybe she—”

“Oh, I spoke to her,” Royce said in a grim tone. “She believes him above reproach, though she doesn’t think the same of you and me.”

“What could she possibly think about us?”

“That we have kept Liza from marrying by chasing off every eligible male.”

“We have not,” Meg said hotly. “We’ve never kept a truly eligible man from Liza. All we did was remove the ineligible ones.”

That
was
all they’d done, wasn’t it? A tiny niggling of doubt tickled Meg. She frowned, trying to remember the reasons they’d dismissed various men who’d burst into Liza’s life.

Royce waved a hand in the air. “Yes, you and I are painted black as sin, while Lady Birlington suggests that Liza might
like
fortune hunters.”

“Liza has too much good sense to like fortune hunters,” Meg said absently. “She doesn’t like fribbles, either; she’s never given you the time of day.”

Royce’s pacing came to an abrupt halt; his eyes blazed. Meg recoiled a little.

Never
had she seen such a look on her brother’s face. She gave an uncertain laugh. “I—I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant—” She bit off the word, trying desperately to sort through her thoughts. After a moment, she said slowly, “Royce, do you think perhaps Lady Birlington is right? Have we chased off all the eligible men in our determination to protect Liza?”

“Of course we haven’t.”

“But…if Durham is not a fortune hunter and the worst you can discover about him is that he wishes his wife to live with him in the country, then…” Meg shrugged, though she kept her gaze on her brother’s face. “I don’t know how we can stop Liza.”

“If this Durham fellow loved her, he would accept her for what she is—town life, fortune, even George.”

“Her monkey? She loves that creature.”

“Durham cares more for his precious cows.” Royce raked a hand through his hair. The last two nights had been sheer hell, and this morning didn’t seem to be any better. After leaving the theater, Royce had returned home only to find he couldn’t sit still, couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Over and over, he’d relived the moment when he’d brushed his arm against Liza’s chest. His reaction had been purely physical. Hot and instant.

Could he feel that way about a mere friend? Bloody hell, what
did
he feel about Liza? The answer sent his mind spinning. There were a very few, precious things that were certainties in his life, and one of them was Liza. That she understood him, sometimes better than himself. That she would always be there. Always and forever.

But now, Durham was determined to rip Liza out of Royce’s life.
That selfish bastard
. “Meg, what kind of marriage is based on changing the other person?”

To his surprise, she didn’t immediately answer. She pursed her lips and tilted her head to one side. “In a way,
all
marriages are based on change. Just being in love changes you. At least, it makes you want to change, and usually for the better.” She sent him a dire look. “That’s something for
you
to think about, dearest brother, if you ever decide to wed.”

“I don’t want to marry and I don’t want to change,” he said firmly. The problem was, he didn’t want Liza to marry or change, either. He wanted them to be the same as they always were. What could be wrong with that?

A flash of irritation marred Meg’s expression. “Royce, if you don’t wish to change, then don’t. Die old and alone. Fortunately, Liza has decided that path is not for her. Furthermore—” Meg stopped, a dawning light in her eyes. “I’m going to do what I can to help her win Lord Durham!”

Good God, no! What was this? “Liza doesn’t need your help.”

“Nonsense. It’s the least we can do, especially if Lady Birlington is right.” Meg bit her lip. “What if we
have
kept all the eligible bachelors from Liza?”

“Would you have had her marry that Handley-Finch fellow? The one who owed so much money he was on the verge of being tossed in gaol?”

“Well, no.”

“What about the man from Devon, the one who’d had two previous wives who had both died under mysterious circumstances?”

“There was never any proof.”

Royce snorted, so Meg added, “What about the widower from America, Mr. Nash? He was very pleasant and was quite heartbroken when you hinted him off.”

“He had four children. Liza would have gone mad. She can barely handle George. Look, Meg, we’re Liza’s family. It’s our job to make certain she’s happy.”

“But whose job is it to decide
what
will make her happy? Royce, unless you have a serious, specific objection to Durham, then it is our duty to help her attach his interest so firmly that he will ask her to marry him without delay.”

“How? By making her into something she’s not?” Royce turned away from Meg and went to the window. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the frame, wondering irritably why he’d come to Meg anyway. She was too bubbleheaded to understand the importance of what was happening. Outside, the wintry street sparkled under the blue sky, cold air seeping around the windowpane. “I refuse to help Liza ruin her life. If you cared about her, you’d do the same.”

Meg sniffed. “You’re just upset because you finally realized there is a woman immune to your charms and she was right under your nose the whole time.”

“Nonsense!” he scoffed. “I’m not upset; I’m worried. That’s an entirely different emotion. Furthermore, Liza is not immune to me whatsoever. And I’m not immune to her—”

“What?” Meg’s mouth dropped open, her eyes wide. She leaped from the settee and was at Royce’s side in a trice. “What happened? Tell me now!”

Royce cursed his rash tongue. “Nothing happened. I just leaned forward at the theater and my arm brushed—” He passed his hand over his eyes. “Forget it.”

“Forget it? If Liza and you have a physical attraction after all, then that’s all you needed since you already lo—”

“Meg, do
not
read more into this than is there.” God, how he hated this! He should have known better than to tell his sister anything.

She pursed her lips, gazing at him with a damned knowing look that made him want to shout with vexation. “I see what it is,” she said slowly. “You don’t want Liza, but you don’t want anyone else to have her, either.”

“Bloody hell! I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to.” Meg drew herself up to her full five-foot-one-inch height and assumed a lofty air. “Royce, you have made up my mind.”

“What?”

“I am going to Liza’s and I am going to offer to help her ensnare this Lord Durham. I am going to make her the best dressed, most beautiful, most sought after woman in all of London. I can see it now—she’ll be the most talked about woman at my Valentine’s ball. Men will line up for miles just for one dance with her.”

“She doesn’t dance,” Royce said, wondering if he could convince Shelbourne that Meg was having an acute attack of nerves and should be shipped off to the country at the first opportunity.

“She will when I’m finished with her. If you want to help, which you should, considering how boorish you’ve been, then I will let you. I daresay it would be quite impossible to obtain the services of a good dance instructor at this late date anyway.”

“I don’t want any part of this.”

“Fine,” Meg said airily, drifting toward the door. “I’ll find someone else. Perhaps Lord Durham would be willing to assist us. That might make more sense anyway, for certainly there is nothing so intimate as dancing the waltz. Just picture it, Durham with his arms about Liz—”

“Don’t start throwing them together! They see too much of each other as it is.” He scowled at his sister’s too wide grin. “You are leaving me no choice, are you?”

“Not one.”

“Damn you,” he said bitterly. When she didn’t respond, he made an impatient noise. “Very well. I’ll be your bloody dance instructor.”

Meg gifted him with a pleasant smile. “How kind of you!” She opened the door to the foyer and gestured for him to leave. “Thank you for coming to visit. It has been very enlightening. However, I’ve too much to do to sit around and gossip. Be here tomorrow. I’ll make sure Liza’s here as well.”

“Wonderful,” he growled. This was just perfect—now he was going to help Liza become even more attractive so that dirt farmer would be even more smitten than he was. Was there no justice in this world?

Meg left the door to give an excited twirl about the room. “This is going to be such fun! Oh, but I have so much to do. We’ll need to work on her clothing, her comportment—really, the dancing is the least of our worries.”

“Liza’ll never agree to any of this.”

“Leave that to me,” Meg said smugly. “I know just what to say.”

Royce swallowed a very rude retort and rubbed his neck, suddenly too weary to argue. At least by helping Meg, he could keep his eye on Liza. And perhaps…His tired mind began to churn, an idea lurking. Perhaps this was a good opportunity for him to show Liza the error of her thinking. She wouldn’t be satisfied with such a dull, pompous boor. She needed someone with more sophistication and a deeper appreciation for who and what she was. Someone like…well, like him, for instance. Only not him, of course.

“Meg, you are absolutely right,” Royce said slowly.

Her joyous expression darkened with suspicion. “What are you thinking now?”

“Only that I’m glad I’ll be here to help Liza. You win, Meggie. I’ll be your dance instructor and anything else you want. What time do we begin?”

“I don’t want to learn how to dance.”

“Liza, you must,” Meg said earnestly. “It’s
crucial
.”

George made a loud, disgusted noise, then scratched his rump and yawned. Liza hid a grin. That was exactly the way she felt about dancing. “I tried to dance when I was younger and I was a complete and utter failure.”

“No one is a failure,” Meg said earnestly. “At least say you’ll try.”

Liza stifled a sigh. Meg had arrived just ten minutes ago, looking so petite and pretty in a pale blue pelisse with matching swansdown hood, that Liza’d begun to rethink wearing her walking dress of burnished orange, though it did contrast nicely with her new lavender boots. She peered over at Meg’s half boots of blue kid. “Where did you get those? I love the heels.”

“I found them on Bond Street in that new place near the—wait. We are not talking about shoes, we are talking about dancing.”

“
You
may talk about dancing all you wish.
I
, meanwhile, will talk about shoes.”

Meg looked hurt. “Liza, I only want to help.”

“You can’t help me with dancing. I’ve had private lessons. Monsieur DeGrasse completely gave up.”

“That was years ago. Besides,” Meg said with a mischievous look, “I have a better instructor than Monsieur De-Grasse. Royce is going to teach you.”

Liza’s heart gave a queer leap so sudden that she pressed her hand to her chest. Raspberries and cream, was that an honest-to-God heart palpitation?

“Liza? What’s wrong? You look very strange.”

“I’m fine,” Liza said. She was dying of some strange heart disorder, of course, but other than that, things couldn’t be better.

“Liza, listen to me. I’ll admit I wasn’t too thrilled with Durham when I first met him, but he seems very worthy.”

Worthy. If he was so worthy, then why did the thought of spending the rest of her life with him make her stomach ache? “He’s a very nice person.”

“Yes, and he would make a lovely match for you. You’re both very distinct and your coloring is quite similar—”

“Similar coloring? You make us sound like matching mittens.”

“That’s not a bad way to think of it. Come, Liza. Let me help you. With just the right tweak here and there, Durham will be on bended knee before you know it.”

“I don’t want him on bended knee. I want—” What? To die in peace? She already had that. To be left alone? She had that, too, if she desired. “I don’t know what I want, but I
do
know that I don’t want to learn how to dance. If Lord Durham cannot accept me the way I am, then I’m not the wife for him.”