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“Lord Archibald, now that’s it just the two of us... what really happened with the actress? I have heard the rumors from London...” Francis Drummond inquired as Archie did his best not to outright scowl at him. They were sharing a decanter of brandy in the drawing room after the rest of the house party had retired.
Apparently, Archie did not do a very good job of hiding his scowl as Francis Drummond lifted his hands as if surrendering.
“You can’t fault a guy for being curious – especially with the rumors that flourish about the two of you,” he stated with an easy smile. Not at all offended by Archie’s expression it seemed.
Archie swirled the last of his brandy. He really did not want to feed the gossip about Lavinia and him. He certainly did not want more rumors to start circulating at the house party.
Even though Cecilia Gaywood was still mainly recuperating, she had started joining them for dinner and afterwards in the drawing room. She could get around on crutches and two of their sturdiest footmen had been tasked with carrying her up and down the stairs. Archie had wondered why Lord Lambourn did not volunteer to do it. If it had been him, he would have jumped at the opportunity of being that close to his future wife, but apparently the idea did not appeal to Lord Lambourn.
“There’s nothing much to it. Whatever you have heard it’s probably a lie,” Archie settled on in the end, trying to block out why exactly it bothered him if the rumor of his affair with Lavinia reached Cecilia Gaywood’s ears.
Despite how close Archie had come to kissing her on their first meeting in the salon, he had been back every day since. His visits with her had soon become the highlight of his days. He continually told himself that he was only setting himself up for disappointment, since of course a young unmarried woman like her could never do more than flirt with him.
But flirt she seemed to do on her own, charming, and subdued way. She seemed pleased every time he came to visit her and despite her not saying anything on the topic, Archie had the sense that Lord Lambourn’s visits were not as frequent and not as anticipated.
“So, you’re telling me that the theater manager, the director, and the male lead of the play did not see you riding her in the theater manager’s office?” Francis Drummond asked jovially, a smile playing about his lips.
Archie had to restrain himself from pinching the bridge of his nose and remain smiling. He should really stay away from actresses from now on. And having relations in public places. And especially having relations with actresses in public places.
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he said and tried to grin, but it came out crooked somehow. He rose from the chair and left the last of the brandy in the tumbler. “I’m heading to bed. Goodnight, Drummond.” The last came out almost amicably.
Francis Drummond only chuckled behind him. Archie headed for the stairs, but as he approached, he realized that he had finished his book yesterday. He would find another in the library and then head upstairs. Reading philosophy was the fastest way to get his brain to quiet down at night and he had found over the years that some of what he read actually stuck.
Just as he had opened the door to the library he froze: Inside was a couple in a heated embrace. Archie knew he should have retreated immediately to give the couple some privacy. But all he did was take a soundless step back and close the door to only have a sliver to peak through, his curiosity getting the better of him.
He could see the man from behind and it was evident that it was either Lord Lambourn or his twin Percy Eavesgrave. The easiest way to tell the two apart was to look at their hair since Percy Eavesgrave’s was longer and wavier. Despite the darkness in the room and the woman running her hands through the man’s hair, he concluded that it had to be Lord Lambourn.
A feeling as if he had swallowed acid ran through his body, making his stomach boil and he almost spit up in his mouth. If the man was Lord Lambourn, the only woman that he could be with was Cecilia. Archie was about to close the door and head back to his room, where he would work very hard on forgetting everything that he had just seen. But then he noticed that the woman was significantly taller than Cecilia was. Someone else then.
The feeling of acid slowly subsided as Archie studied what he could see of the woman: her hands at the back of the man’s hair and running down his back, her dress that was visible on either side of Lord Lambourn’s legs and from time to time her hair as it came into view.
Later Archie would later think that it was simply because the notion was so unlikely that it took him so long to recognize who Lord Lambourn was actually with.
But as he looked at them, he rejected being able to deduce anything from seeing her hands since they were barely visible in the darkness. He could not tell the color of her dress, but the cut of it told him that it was not one of the maids that Lord Lambourn was having a tryst with. The woman’s hair then. It was difficult to discern the exact color, but it seemed blonde. There were only two other women besides Cecilia who were blonde. One was Lord Lambourn’s sister, Lady Addinggrove. The other was... Hester.
Where his insides had previously felt filled with acid, he now felt a sinking, freezing feeling. Followed by a surge of relief. Now that he knew who the two were, he quietly closed the door and stood in the hallway trying to figure out what to do.
Everything in him recoiled at simply leaving Hester in the arms of Lord Lambourn. If anyone but he had entered the room, she would have been ruined. He had no idea what she felt about Lord Lambourn or whether she would be happily married to him. Had anyone asked him five minutes ago, he would even have laughed at the notion that his younger sister possessed such a basic feeling as desire.
No, if he barged in there, he might condemn Hester to a life with Lord Lambourn, that she might or might not want, or he would have to meet Lord Lambourn tomorrow morning at dawn. But if he said nothing, did nothing...
The worst would be that Hester became with child and would have to marry Lord Lambourn regardless. But if she chose to lie with him, then she had also chosen that that might be the outcome.
Somehow though Archie was certain that Hester would not actually sleep with Lord Lambourn unless they had an understanding of him breaking his engagement with Cecilia. Hester was too smart for that.
Perhaps that was it. Lord Lambourn and Hester had just become engaged and tomorrow Lord Lambourn would talk to Cecilia about it. Sometimes things moved too swiftly to end one relationship before starting a new one. Archie had tried that himself.
Yes, tomorrow they would probably announce their engagement. Archie left the library door and headed to his room. It took him a long time to fall asleep since what he could only believe was an unexpected happiness of Hester finally making a match surged through his blood.
***
There was a gleam in Lord Archibald’s eyes as he entered the salon as if he was especially eager to see her today. Cecilia studied him as he entered through the secret door and came to sit on the chair that he usually occupied. He had been by every day and even though he subtly flirted with her, he had never tried to make an advance on her. Not even a kiss.
Cecilia could feel that the corners of her mouth had been tugged upwards since he had entered. His gaze was eager as he looked at her as if he expected her to have news to share with him.
“How was the hunt, my lord?” Cecilia asked as a way of greeting because she knew that the Duke of Camborne had invited the whole party on a grouse hunt. Flint had been by half an hour earlier to tell her about it.
“It was good. Fine. I like hunting,” he said in a keen voice as if he just wanted to move on from this part of the conversation.
Perhaps he had become tired of his visits to her. The fact was that she had not invited him to kiss her or touch her. She could not help but flirt with him from time to time, but he probably only thought her attempts childlike and laughable. She would chide herself for it afterward, but when the opportunity was there, she could not help herself.
“Did you shoot anything?”
“A couple of birds.” His expression was still eager, he still spoke quickly as if to get it over with.
Cecilia nodded and tried to make sense of his clear reluctance to talk about the hunt. Her father and brothers loved to go hunting, although her mother had been by earlier and told her that Algernon had abstained today in order to catch Lady Hester alone. But if they had shot a couple of birds, she could have been sure to be hearing about it for the next half hour.
“Is...” Cecilia moved to sit up straighter on the sofa. A frown furrowing her brow. Their conversations were usually not this stilted. That was one of the things she liked about him. “Do you not wish to talk about the hunt, sir?”
“The hunt was fine but nothing spectacular. Tell me about your day.”
“I was here. Reading.” The last word came out strangled as she felt a sneeze in the back of her nose. She tried to subdue the sound as she sneezed into her sleeve.
“Any visitors?” Lord Archibald asked and handed her a handkerchief from his pocket without looking at it. It was still warm from being carried close to his body and Cecilia told herself not to read anything into that detail as she gently wiped her nose with it, then hid the handkerchief in her fist, hoping he would forget he gave it to her.
“My mother was here. And Flint... Lord Lambourn came by right after the hunt. I believe he shot a couple of birds as well.”
“Yes, I walked alongside him for some of the hunt,” Lord Archibald told her. Now hesitantly, studying her face intently.
Cecilia could not help but blush a bit and look down at her clutched hand at his scrutinizing stare. He seemed to catch himself; at least he averted his eyes and cleared his throat. Then shifted in his seat.
“And you spoke of nothing but the hunt?” he inquired.
Cecilia met his dark blue eyes. Her grandfather’s estate was by the ocean and her father liked to take them all sailing in his yacht during the summer. Lord Archibald’s eyes were exactly the same color as the ocean on a bright summer day where they were so far from the shore that they could only barely make it out as a sliver of light sandy color in the horizon. Cecilia felt that she could swim in those eyes. Drown in them. Too late she remembered that she had to answer his question.
“I don’t recall. Nothing in particular at least.”
There was a very subtle change in his demeanor that told her that he was disappointed. A slight slump in his shoulders, his bottom lip protruding just a bit more than usual. Then he collected himself and the expression was gone.
“How are you finding the book?” he said, and his voice was back to the cheery charming register it usually held. “Would you believe me if I told you that I have never read a word of Austen?”
“I can easily believe it.” Cecilia smiled and gently tucked the handkerchief in between the pages of the book.
His strange behavior was pushed to the back of her mind, and it was not until she was alone again that she remembered it. He seemed to have expected Flint to tell her of a certain matter, only she was not sure what.