If His Kiss Is Wicked. Jo Goodman
has that to do with anything? I am attempting to foster civility.” She threw up her hands as though she had quite given up on imparting good manners, then pivoted on her heel and addressed the butler. “Restell will have tea and cakes also, Solomon.”
Restell was careful not to catch the butler’s eye, fearful that one of them would be moved to sniggering, if not outright laughter. Lady Gardner would not appreciate either response if she believed it was at her expense. Restell doubted she could be persuaded to understand that he was the object of the jest.
As soon as Solomon vacated the salon, Lady Gardner gave her full attention once more to Restell. “Is that a new frock coat?” she asked, casting her gimlet eye on the cut of his garment. “It suits you.”
“It is new,” he said. “And thank you. I will extend your compliment to my tailor.”
“It would be better if you would introduce your father to the man. I despair that Sir Geoffrey will never find a cut that flatters his figure.”
“His figure is decidedly more round these days, Mother.”
“Is it? I confess, he seems much the same to me as the day I met him.” She paused, much struck by hearing herself say so. “Is that the nature of love, do you think?”
Restell smiled. “I suspect it is but one facet.”
“Yes, well, it is good of you to venture an opinion when you have little enough experience with it.”
“On the contrary, Mother, I find myself in love with irritating frequency.”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head with enough force to dislodge a lock of silver-threaded auburn hair. Sweeping it aside, she went on, “We will not have that argument. You cannot be in love with opera dancers and actresses.”
“Not at the same time, certainly.”
“That is not what I meant and you well know it.”
“Someone should be in love with opera dancers and actresses. I have always found them so deserving.”
“I wish you would not use that reasonable tone when you are being deliberately provoking. You know I find it confusing.”
“I’m very sorry. I shall endeavor not to excite your nerves or your gray matter.”
“You are all consideration.” Her light blue eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded Restell askance. “You are all consideration, aren’t you? I shouldn’t like to discover that you are having me on.”
“I shouldn’t like you to discover that, either. It cannot possibly bode well for me.”
Lady Gardner rolled her eyes. “You are a rascal, Restell. A dear one, to be sure, but a rascal nevertheless.” She took his hand, drew him over to the upholstered bench set a few feet from the window, and urged him to sit when she did. He obediently sat. “You cannot conceive of whom I happened upon in the park this afternoon.”
Restell remained silent, waiting, hoping that he looked appropriately interested. His neckcloth seemed extraordinarily tight again.
“Will you not at least venture a guess?” Lady Gardner asked.
“You said I could not conceive it.”
“Well, certainly you cannot, especially if you do not make the attempt.”
Restell chose not to educate his stepmother as to the accepted definitions of “cannot” and “conceive.” He offered a guess instead. “Lady Armitage.”
“No. Oh, heaven’s no. Do you take no notice of what goes on around you, Restell? She has been dead these last three months.”
“Then she is unlikely to enjoy a turn in the park.”
Lady Gardner was saved the effort of a rejoinder by Solomon’s arrival. She bade him place the service on the table in front of her and sent him out, then she poured tea for herself and Restell. Handing him his cup, she said, “It was Lady Rivendale. She is just arrived from the country.”
“She is well?”
“Very well. She spent a fortnight with her godson and his wife at Granville Hall and another fortnight with Ferrin and Cybelline at Fairfield.”
Restell realized he would have known of the latter visit if he’d had the opportunity to finish reading his brother’s correspondence this morning. The missive was still lying on his desk beside the bank draft drawn up by Miss Hathaway. It occurred to him of a sudden that he should invest Miss Hathaway’s money in some venture that would return a good profit to her. She might appreciate the means to be independent in her dealings with the world. Certainly it would not cause her distress to be less beholden to her uncle.
Lady Gardner snapped her fingers in front of Restell’s nose. “You are not attending me, dear.”
“I’m sorry. You were saying that Lady Rivendale spent a fortnight at Ferrin’s estate.”
“I have said a great deal more than that.” She sighed. “The gist of it is that her ladyship has reminded me of her great success in bringing about perfectly acceptable matches. Your own sister benefited from Lady Rivendale taking an interest in her future.”
The way Restell remembered it, Lady Rivendale’s interest was confined to making a substantial wager on the likelihood that his sister would accept a proposal from Mr. Porter Wellsley. How that benefited Wynetta was outside Restell’s understanding, but his stepmother remained persuaded it served as a catalyst to bring Wellsley up to snuff. The fact that Wynetta and Wellsley remained indecently happy after four years of marriage merely underscored her conviction. “I seem to recall that Ferrin was of considerable help in bringing the thing about.”
“Does Ferrin say so?”
“No, he accepts no credit.”
“Then you should not be giving him any. He is well out of it, and that is as it should be. The entire affair was havey-cavey; the less said about my son’s part in it, the better.”
Restell suspected Ferrin would agree. It was too much to hope that Lady Rivendale or his stepmother had their sights set on his younger sisters. Hannah was just turned sixteen and considered too immature to be the object of a serious match, even by Lady Gardner’s standards. Portia was only twelve and showing unexpected signs of being bookish. It remained to be seen whether she could resist the tidal wave of entertainments that Lady Gardner would use to tempt her when she became of age. If it came to placing a wager, he would stake his living on his stepmother. One rarely was disappointed by depending upon Lady Gardner to achieve her goals.
For proof, he only had to recall how she had taken the twins in hand after her marriage to Sir Geoffrey. When they came of age, neither Ian nor Imogene had the inclination to resist her even if they’d had any weapons at the ready. They were turned out on the marriage mart virtually unprotected. Imogene accepted a proposal her first season and was married at twenty. Ian did not last much longer.
Ferrin thwarted his mother’s machinations for years, but that was largely because she was taken with his reputation as a rake. As she was of the opinion that one scoundrel in the family was all that could be properly managed, she did not indulge Restell’s attempts to follow his stepbrother’s lead. He had entertained some hope that when Ferrin married he might be allowed to embrace the role of family rogue. Sadly, Lady Gardner was proving resistant to this idea.
For his part, Restell was conscious of showing regrettable signs of respectability. It was quite possible his dear step-mama thought he had grown ripe for the plucking.
He sipped from the cup of tea he had not wanted, swallowed hard, and waited.
“A cake?” Lady Gardner asked, holding up the plate.
Restell shook his head, holding fast to the last bit of his resolve.
Lady Gardner helped herself and bit one corner of the cake delicately. She took no pains to hide her pleasure. “Mrs.