Can you can advise on this, Hayden?”
“Not at all. Miss Welbourne could help you, I expect.”
All eyes turned to her, defeating her intentions to remain a mere shadow at the corner of the table.
“If I had to make the choice, it would definitely be Madame Tissot,” she said. Mrs. Waterman had been the modiste chosen to make Irene Longworth’s wardrobe this season. Caroline now lived in Irene’s house and even slept in Irene’s bed. By Lucifer, she would not have Irene’s new gowns too if Alexia could help it.
The sharpness of her reaction warned her that she had not accommodated her situation yet. The resentments stabbed on occasions like this. Having to share a table with Lord Hayden left part of her soul seething too. Accepting his arrogant attention, fighting off his dominating aura, seemed a cruel expectation. She hoped he would show more fortitude and find a way to decline his aunt’s dinner invitations in the future.
“Before you commission any gowns, you and I must have a little talk, Aunt Hen.”
“Of course.” Lady Wallingford’s expression became one of dutiful obedience. “Caroline herself has insisted on strict limitations on the cost. She is much more sensible than I am in that area, aren’t you, dear? The man who marries her will find her much easier on the purse than most other girls.”
Caroline blushed again. Her cousin did not see the bait bobbing above him. He vaguely smiled his approval.
The meal finished and Lord Hayden’s diary suitably full, they all went up to the drawing room. At the doorway, however, Lady Wallingford announced a new plan.
“Hayden, will you excuse Caroline and me for a short while? She has a surprise for you, and I need to help her. Miss Welbourne will entertain you while we prepare the diversion.”
And so Alexia found herself sitting across from Lord Hayden in the drawing room, much as they had during their first conversation.
“Can you give me a hint about this diversion?” he asked. He stretched out his legs too informally. She was not really a member of the family and could do without poses of familiarity.
“It is a mystery to me.”
“You are her governess.”
“I think this was planned prior to their arrival here. There have been no rehearsals this last week, to my knowledge.”
He regarded her in that direct, disconcerting way he had adopted. “Then there must not have been any at all. I doubt you miss much, Miss Welbourne. For example, you have probably realized that dear Aunt Hen has plans for Caroline and me that go beyond visits to museums.”
“Indeed? How fortunate for you.” His awareness of Henrietta’s intentions ruined her fantasy. She had counted on watching him swim along in his arrogant way only to suddenly land on the beach at Henrietta’s feet, wiggling helplessly.
“It would be helpful if you would discourage these plans.”
“I cannot imagine how I can. Besides, I think it would be a splendid match.”
“You intend to be Aunt Hen’s ally against me, don’t you?”
“We women are all sisters in this, sir. And we do
so
enjoy watching the mighty fall.”
He laughed. “You speak as if you do not think I stand a chance.”
“I expect you to be gutted, scaled, and in the pan by June.”
Humor brightened his eyes. Amusement transformed him. He no longer appeared stern. Strong, yes, but not stern. “A fish? You liken me to a
fish
? Leave me some dignity, Miss Welbourne. A fox run to ground, a bull defeated by a matador—there are numerous analogies available, but a fish is too cruel.”
She smiled in spite of herself. “I found the images very compelling.”
Although still smiling, still…
appealing,
his demeanor turned more serious. “If you refuse to discourage my aunt, so be it. However, do what you can to keep the girl from accepting her mother’s assumptions. I would not like to see her hurt or discouraging suitors on account of this scheme. There is no way I will marry my cousin.”
“Why