Ewan had supervised the tree trimming himself. He’d intended to have the men remove the tree closest to the town house, but for some reason he was unwilling to consider too deeply, he only removed the branch closest to the window of the duke’s daughter. She would have to be daft to attempt to use any of the other branches to make a descent. Not that she wasn’t daft. Most women were daft. But he had reason to hope she was only mostly daft, not completely daft.
It was late by the time the men finished and Ewan was able to venture into the kitchens and eat two bowls of soup and three sandwiches. The family would dine at the ball, but it was anyone’s guess as to when supper would be served. It was bad enough he must endure the torture of a neckcloth, but he would not do so on an empty stomach.
Since he had no desire to revisit the conversation Lady Lorraine had begun earlier, he paid little attention to her when the family departed—this time her older brother Charles was with them. The Marquess of Perrin seemed to like to hear himself talk, so there was even less opportunity for his sister to speak to Ewan.
Now he understood how it was she could talk so much. She must have learned it from her brother. Undoubtedly, if she hadn’t learned to speak up and make herself heard, no one would have noticed her at all.
Ewan was almost hopeful Lady Lorraine had forgotten all about the conversation in the parlor as well. He stood in a corner, watching her dance with the same men she danced with at every ball. They were mostly harmless, and only one or two required his full attention. He’d made a sweep of the house during the first set and had not seen his cousin anywhere. Now he surveyed the room continually to make certain the man did not appear.
It was almost midnight when Ewan realized Lady Lorraine was standing before him. “Thank you, Lord Drake,” she said with a polite smile. “Mr. Mostyn will escort me in to supper.”
Her partner bowed and moved away, throwing a look of disappointment over his shoulder. Ewan was surprised the bell had been rung for dinner. He hadn’t even heard it, and that was unusual.
And as Lady Lorraine had made clear at the first ball they’d attended, she did not want Ewan to escort her anywhere. Ewan was rightly suspicious of this change.
“Shall we go in?” she asked, looping her arm through his. Ewan looked down at her white-gloved arm, so stark against the dark blue of his sleeve.
“No.”
She gave him a less than polite smile. “Someone must escort me, and as you are the only unaccompanied man here at the moment, I fear it must be you.”
She was correct, not that Ewan gave a damn about the rules of Society. But he’d taken this position and there was unpleasantness associated with every occupation. He led her toward the supper room.
“What was wrong with him?” he asked.
“Not a thing. He tells the most amusing stories about his time in the Americas. Pray seat me next to him so he might regale me through dinner.”
Ewan thought she should have allowed the man to regale her on the walk to the supper room. He didn’t like being this close to her. He could detect her scent of vanilla and cream even when surrounded by a hundred others.
They reached the supper room, and Ewan searched for the man with whom she’d been dancing. It took a moment for him to locate the lord. He looked very much like every other man she ever danced with. While he scanned the room, he felt her hand reach into his coat. If they hadn’t been in full view of the entire room, he would have caught the offending hand in his and demanded to know if she was attempting to pick his pocket.
“What the devil are you about?” he asked, jaw clenched.
“You will see. Open it when you have a moment alone.”
Then, apparently spotting the man she wanted, she released his arm and made her way to Lord Drake’s table.
Ewan did not move for a long moment, even though he knew he was blocking the door. Finally, he stepped aside and reached inside his coat. He could feel the slip of paper inside the pocket. What scheme had she concocted now? Did she mean to force him to admit he could not read? As he’d said, he was not stupid. He would ask one of the servants to read it for him or conveniently lose the missive.
He should drop it in the fire right away, but instead he left the supper room and withdrew the letter. No words were written on the front. It was merely folded over once and unsealed. He flipped it open and stared not at words but at a drawing. Ewan could only assume she had drawn the illustration. On the left side of the paper were two figures. One was clearly a woman. She wore a dress and her hair was in a coiffure on top of her head. The other was a man. No, the other was him. No other man would have been drawn so tall and muscular, his cheekbones so stark and his hair so short. Did that mean the woman was Lady Lorraine?
To the right of the figures was an arrow and on the opposite side of the arrow was a shelf of books, beneath which was a desk and two chairs.
Ewan understood what she wanted immediately. She wanted him to meet her in her father’s library. She hadn’t indicated when this meeting was to occur, but knowing the lady as he did, he could only assume it was to take place after the household had gone to sleep.
What the devil did she have planned now?
Ewan didn’t intend to find out. When they’d arrived home from the ball, he’d gone to his room, tore off the offending neckcloth, and drank down a glass of wine. Meeting her in the library was a bad idea. A child would have known that much. It was one thing to kiss her by the topiaries at the Carlton House conservatory and quite another to do such a thing under her father’s roof.
And even if Ewan went to the library with every intention of not kissing her, he was aware she tempted him in that regard more than any other woman he had ever encountered.
But very possibly this meeting was not about kisses at all. She hadn’t forgotten the conversation in the parlor, and he wanted to continue it even less than he wanted to kiss her.
And so he would not go.
And if he didn’t go, what would she do then? Come to his room? Draw him even more pictures? What would her father think if he knew she slipped him secret illustrations asking for private meetings? Ewan would then be forced to admit to yet another person he could not read, not to mention explain why Lady Lorraine wanted to meet with him in private.
Ewan drank another glass of wine, knowing it would take an entire bottle before he felt any of its effects, and wishing he had time to drink the whole bottle. Instead, he listened for signs that the household had gone to sleep and then descended silently to the library.
He wasn’t surprised to find Lady Lorraine there waiting for him. He did take a step back when he realized she was wearing a dressing gown, not the dress she’d worn to the ball. And her hair was a straight sheet of coffee down her back. She seemed to understand his reaction immediately.
“I had to allow Nell to undress me else she would know something was amiss,” the lady explained, moving around her father’s desk. The fire in the hearth was low, but the light was enough that he could see her expression. “I cannot do it myself, so I had no excuse for sending her away. Did anyone see you?”