Why had Geoffrey— No! Stratford. She blew out an exasperated sigh. She might as well accept that her mind had made the switch.
Why had Geoffrey invited her to ride with him tomorrow? What was it she’d seen in his eyes? Why hadn’t he tossed her off his estate? No one would have protested, not even Aunt Eliza. What could he want of her?
The unanswered questions balled within her. Liliana detested the unknown. The desire to act vibrated through her. She had to do something—anything.
She’d take Amira to the village this afternoon. Yes, it bent the spirit of what Geoffrey had intended, but he had given her permission to ride. She wouldn’t wait. If only this infernal meal would come to an end so Aveline would depart.
“So what talent shall you be displaying this afternoon, my dear?”
Liliana quirked her brow as Aveline’s question registered. “Pardon?”
He chuckled, amusement dancing across his lean features. “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”
Liliana relaxed into a chagrined smile. “I’m sorry, my lord. Woolgathering. Forgive me.”
“No, forgive me,” he said. “I shall endeavor to be a more entertaining companion.”
“Oh no,” Liliana rushed to reassure him. “You’ve been perfect. I’ve just something on my mind.”
Speculation glimmered in Aveline’s expression for just a moment before his easy smile supplanted it. “Your upcoming performance, perhaps?”
Liliana shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“This afternoon’s affair?” Aveline prompted. At her shrug, he explained. “The countess has arranged for several of the young ladies to demonstrate their most accomplished of the feminine arts, with Stratford as judge.”
“Oh my,” Liliana said. Poor Geoffrey. He’d been less than excited about the tournament. She wondered how he felt about this display.
“Yes.” Aveline nodded. “I take it you weren’t invited to perform?”
“I’m not exactly the favored guest around here.” Liliana gave a smiling wince. “Thank goodness.”
Aveline laughed, a rich sound that drew a few looks. “No, though I can’t see any reason why not,” he murmured. “That is a shame, however. I’d rather looked forward to discovering how you would top your skills as a gunsmith.” Aveline tossed his napkin onto the table. “I expect it will be entertaining nonetheless, don’t you think?”
She’d rather do a qualitative analysis of what made paint peel. Politeness dictated she answer otherwise. “Yes. I’m only sorry you shall miss it, what with your afternoon business affairs.”
“Actually, I’d made plans to spend the afternoon with you today.” He stood, extending a friendly hand. “If you’ll have me?” Aveline smiled, and the look he gave her was one of…anticipation?
Oh no. Liliana tried not to show her dismay. She couldn’t very well turn him down. He had, after all, been her savior and had done quite a bit to ease the tension between her and Aunt Eliza. Yet neither did she wish to encourage him. She’d enjoyed his escort simply because he’d been so undemanding of her time.
“I’d be honored,” she said, pushing the words past the disappointed lump in her throat. Her foray to the village would have to wait. She took his proffered arm and accepted her fate. “Shall we?”
She pasted a smile on her face as Aveline joined them to the line of guests making their way toward the music room.
She prayed she was mistaken about Aveline’s interest and that his decision to spend the afternoon at Somerton Park would be a onetime occurrence.
Somerton Park’s sizable music room rang with conversation as Liliana and Aveline took their seats very near the back.
“In case some of the ladies’ feminine accomplishments are not quite so accomplished,” Aveline explained with a wink as he placed a finger in one ear.
Liliana laughed, but her eyes sought out Geoffrey, who stood at the front nearest the bank of tall windows. The expanse of glass admitted generous sunlight into the room. Brightness prevented her from seeing Geoffrey’s expression, but his posture was stiff and formal, much different than his relaxed, easy manner of this morning. This was a man not pleased to be here. She could certainly sympathize.
Standing next to him was his uncle, Josslyn Wentworth. The man was smiling, yet something in his expression seemed off…disingenuous. Not in the same way as the countess, but— Liliana scoffed. Who was she to judge? She knew she, of all people, would be inclined to see ugliness in any Wentworth. But then why did she not feel that way about Geoffrey anymore?
Joss Wentworth caught her staring and frowned. Liliana flushed and turned her gaze back to the room.
Streaking rays illuminated three magnificent instruments, which anchored the décor. A Taskin harpsichord of giltwood with a japanned case was the centerpiece, flanked by a stunning mahogany square piano in the neoclassical style. It boasted gilt bronze mounts and medallions of cut horn against a blue paper background.
The most interesting piece was a lavishly carved pedal harp with painted scenes of pyramids, birds and clouds on the pine sound box. The crown featured a wooden figure in Egyptian headdress. The harp looked much older than one designed to complement the current rage for Egyptian décor. Perhaps someone in Geoffrey’s family had been a lover of Egypt before Napoleon had so popularized it.
“Quite a way to choose a wife, eh?” Aveline commented, leaning close so as not to be overheard. “I must say, when it comes my time to be shackled, the music room is not precisely the one I would wish my viscountess be accomplished in.”
Liliana snapped her head around to see Aveline’s half-cocked smile.
“What?” he asked, giving a shrug. “I would rather she excel at watercolors, sculptures, things of that sort. Do pull your mind up out of the cellar, Miss Claremont.” The roguish gleam sparkling in his green eyes spoiled his innocent expression.
She lifted a pert eyebrow. “I had thought you quite tame, but perhaps I should reevaluate my opinion,” she said. “I do believe you might be rather wicked.”
Aveline flashed a lopsided grin. “All part of my attempt to be a more engaging escort.” He winked. “And I had thought you imperturbable. It seems I was correct.”
She shrugged. “Practical, analytical and unimaginably factual, too,” she said in her most dry voice, but she couldn’t repress a smile.
“Hmm.” Aveline shifted in his seat as Lady Stratford welcomed everyone to the room and introduced the afternoon’s first performer. Lady Jane Northumb sat prettily at the harpsichord, her face serene and not a blond curl out of place. Lady Stratford beamed at the girl, as if bestowing her blessing upon the perfect daughter-in-law. Liliana frowned.
The unmistakable notes of Mozart filled the room.
Liliana sat up straight, looking to see how Geoffrey was enjoying the performance. Did he gaze upon Jane Northumb as the perfect epitome of womanhood? Not that she cared, of course. But she couldn’t spot him. Perhaps he sat behind the matron with the turquoise organza hat, somewhere on the other side of the peacock-plumaged adornment.