Susan Krinard - Lord of Sin

The way Deborah’s gaze darted from face to face, searching for one in particular, suggested that Nuala had not been mistaken in her guess at the park. There had definitely been a spark between Deborah and Melbyrne. A rightness in their coming together.

Nuala shook her head. It was none of her business. If it was meant to be, they would find each other without her help.

At least not of the magical sort.

“Ah,” she said, spotting the young man in question. “I believe I see Mr. Melbyrne.”

Deborah craned her neck and almost immediately resumed a more prudent demeanor. “Oh? I did not know he was to come.”

“Perhaps we ought to greet him,” Nuala suggested.

“Surely it would seem a bit forward, would it not?”

“At a party such as this? Not at all. We have already been introduced.”

“Well…if you really think it the polite thing to do…”

“You like him, don’t you?” Nuala asked, unable to help herself.

“He…he is most personable.”

“Let us go, then.” Nuala gently steered Deborah toward the open doors of the conservatory, where Mr. Melbyrne was engaged in light conversation with a man with whom Nuala was not yet acquainted. Melbyrne noticed Deborah’s approach and beamed.

“Lady Orwell,” he said, bowing. “Lady Charles.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Melbyrne,” Nuala said into Deborah’s tongue-tied silence. “How very pleasant to find you here after our meeting in the park.”

“Indeed. A great pleasure.” He glanced at Deborah. “Are you enjoying the party, Lady Orwell?” he asked, his voice pitched a little high.

“We are only just arrived,” Deborah said quietly. “And you?”

“Yes.” He remembered himself and gestured at his companion. “Lady Orwell, Lady Charles, may I present Mr. Leopold Erskine.”

Mr. Erskine, a tall and lanky man with a pleasant face, bowed with a charming touch of awkwardness. “Ladies. It is a privilege to make your acquaintance.”

Nuala offered her hand. “I have heard your name, Mr. Erskine. Are you not an archaeologist and scholar of ancient languages?”

“Some have said so, Lady Charles.”

“Mr. Erskine is entirely too modest,” Melbyrne said. “He knows more than the rest of us put together.”

“Are you a member of the Forties, Mr. Erskine?” Deborah asked innocently.

Nuala kept her teeth locked together. If Deborah had any real interest in Melbyrne, it had been the height of foolishness to remind him of his club’s vows. But he seemed not to notice, and Erskine was already answering.

“I am not, Lady Orwell,” he said. “I have never been prone to joining such institutions, but I do count several of its members as friends.”

“And we are privileged by his condescension,” a deep voice said from behind him.

Nuala’s spine prickled. Sinjin had arrived.

MELBYRNE SEEMED TO SHRINK a little, but Erskine raised a satirical brow. “Good afternoon, Lord Donnington.”

“Erskine. Melbyrne.” He turned immediately to the ladies. “Good afternoon, Lady Orwell, Lady Charles. It seems only yesterday that we met in the park.”

Nuala didn’t offer her hand. It was trembling far too much, and she feared that Sinjin might feel the beating of her heart through her fingers “Time moves very quickly during the Season, don’t you agree?” she said.

He studied her intently. “Perhaps too quickly. Matters of importance may be so conveniently forgotten.”

“Perhaps such matters ought to be dealt with as soon as possible.”

“Business of that nature might best be conducted in privacy,” Sinjin said.

“It is amazing how much privacy may be found in the midst of a crowd.”

Sinjin snorted and glanced toward Melbyrne, but the boy was already walking away…with Deborah on his arm.

“Such black looks, Lord Donnington,” Erskine said. “One might think you fear that your young protégé might actually be tempted to forswear his oath.”

“Melbyrne? Nothing of the kind. He must claim a fair companion while he can. I note that there are more gentlemen than ladies present today.”

As if to refute his claim, an expensively dressed, middle-aged woman approached at a fast pace, her unmarried daughter in tow. Nuala recognized her, though she didn’t know the woman well. She knew that the poor daughter was in her third Season and as yet unmarried, a disaster of unprecedented proportions for her family.

“Lord Donnington!” the woman cooed. “How very charming to find you here.”

Sinjin’s face instantly took on a pleasant but cynical cast. “Mrs. Eccleston,” he acknowledged.

The woman tugged the hand of the blushing girl behind her. “You have met my daughter, Miss Laetitia.”

The woman’s forwardness didn’t seem to trouble Sinjin, though her intentions were painfully obvious. He smiled and bowed to Mrs. Eccleston and the young lady, who was half-hidden behind her mother’s skirts.

“You are acquainted with Lady Charles, I believe,” he said pointedly, “and Mr. Erskine.”

“Yes, indeed. Charmed.” Mrs. Eccleston gave Nuala a narrow-eyed glance, doubtless considering the nature and qualities of a possible rival.

Nuala stifled a laugh at the improbable thought. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Eccleston, Miss Eccleston.”

Laetitia almost mustered a smile. “Good afternoon, Lady Charles,” she whispered.

“Are not the flowers lovely, Lord Donnington?” Mrs. Eccleston said. “Laetitia is most fond of flowers. She quite adores arranging them…don’t you, my dear?”

The poor girl went white at being put on the spot. “I…”

“Perhaps Miss Eccleston might enjoy touring the conservatory,” Sinjin interjected. “If you can spare her, Mrs. Eccleston.”

“Of course, of course! You are too kind, Lord Donnington.”

With a gesture Nuala might almost have called gracious, Sinjin offered his arm to Laetitia and smiled. The girl’s hand was trembling when she took his arm, but Nuala recognized the flash of gratitude on her small face. Not gratitude that Sinjin meant anything by his offer of escort, but that he had provided a means of escape from her overbearing mama.

Mrs. Eccleston could hardly conceal her triumph. “Do forgive me, Lady Charles, Mr. Erskine. I see a friend and must speak to her.”

She bustled off with no thought to her lack of courtesy. Erskine chuckled.

“Quite a dragon, isn’t she?” he remarked.

“She has a daughter to provide for,” Nuala said, watching Sinjin walk away with the most troubling of mixed emotions. “Laetitia is in an unenviable situation.”

“The remarkable thing is that Miss Eccleston seems to think her daughter has a chance with Lord Donnington.”

Nuala swallowed. “Are you quite sure she would not?”

“You are obviously a sensible woman, Lady Charles. What is your opinion?”

“He is highly eligible.”

“Quite. But there is more to matchmaking than mere eligibility.”

“Indeed. His reputation must be known by every woman in Society,” Nuala said. “Perhaps some don’t believe the strength of his commitment to his chosen way of life.” She noted Erskine’s discomfort and added, “I mean, of course, his refusal to marry before the age of forty.”

Erskine clasped his hands behind his back. “He once told me that if he ever found a woman his equal, he would marry her immediately. I doubt he will discover such a paragon, and will have to settle for less when he is finally compelled to do his duty.”

“Yet I have no doubt that he will do his duty in the end,” Nuala said, her throat tightening around the words.

Erskine gave her a penetrating look. “How long have you and Donnington known each other, Lady Charles?”