Ranelaw stared at Cassie in flagrant appreciation. Why not? The girl looked charming with her cheeks pink from exercise and excitement brightening her blue eyes.
Oh, Cassie, you’re so easy to read.
Antonia could do little to quash her cousin’s pleasure. She’d like to think Ranelaw would tire of the girl’s blatant admiration, but experience indicated men never wearied of flattery. Cassie’s bedazzlement would only feed his interest. No wonder he was such an arrogant scoundrel.
Through a red haze of temper, Antonia barely heard Lady Humphrey introduce the four arrivals. Lord Thorpe turned out to be the lady’s nephew. The fellow wasn’t just her bugbear’s fast friend, he seemed to be related to half the ton.
She emerged from fuming to hear one of the gentlemen quizzing Ranelaw about his face. His eyes rested mockingly upon her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of embarrassment.
“Would you believe a tiger attacked me?”
“A tiger?” Cassie raised a hand to her chest in a flirtatious gesture Antonia had never seen her use. Ranelaw exercised a detrimental effect on her cousin who until now had been delightfully free from artifice.
“Don’t be a henwit,” Antonia snapped under her breath.
Ranelaw laughed. “Perhaps I should say a tigress.”
Thorpe clapped him on the shoulder. “Watch for those wild beasts on Piccadilly, old man!”
General laughter followed, and this time, Antonia couldn’t resist meeting that sly black gaze. His faint smile woke the demons inside her that she’d hoped country air had banished.
His invasion of her thoughts had been penance enough. Now she’d find no escape from him. He’d infect the next fortnight with fear, anger, and unwelcome desire. This house party promised to become the definition of purgatory.
Damn and blast Ranelaw. Was she never to get a moment’s peace?
Cassie, understandably, made every attempt to avoid a private conversation with Antonia. In spite of her dishevelment, she lingered outside for tea and the flirtation that the gentlemen’s arrival engendered in what until now had been a pleasantly easy party.
Lord Ranelaw and Cassie joined the merriment, without, Antonia was relieved to note, concentrating solely on each other. But then, she thought sourly, why rush to express their preferences? They had days to make mischief and a vast estate to do it in.
Not for the first time, she cursed Godfrey Demarest for leaving her alone to shepherd Cassie safely through her first season. Just for once, surely he could have put his daughter ahead of his worldly pleasures.
Her headache returned with a vengeance and eventually she excused herself on a murmur of apology. With so many eyes observing, Cassie wasn’t likely to sneak away with her suitor.
&n
bsp; Nobody watched Antonia leave. Apart from Ranelaw. He did a marvelous impression of involvement in the conversation, but Antonia knew his attention hadn’t shifted from her for a second.
He had no intention of letting her forget their unfinished business.
Antonia retreated to the small, dark room off Cassie’s that had been assigned to her. The chamber was appropriate for a superior servant. Away from home, she couldn’t be treated as a family member without undue comment.
To calm the mad rush of her pulse, she splashed cold water on her flushed face. She lifted a threadbare towel and told herself for the hundredth time to get used to her shabby accommodations.
By the end of this season, it was highly likely Cassie would be betrothed. Dear God, let it not be to Ranelaw, although he wasn’t really a candidate for Cassie’s hand. Mr. Demarest would never give permission for his only daughter to marry such an unrepentant rake, even if the marquess did the pretty and proposed. Being an unrepentant rake himself, Demarest was most insistent that his daughter stay far away from the breed.
Once Cassie wed, she’d have no further use for a chaperone. Her cousin had long said she planned to take Antonia with her to her new home, but few young men newly married would approve that plan.
No, the most likely future for Antonia Smith was employment in another household. As she surveyed her unappealing room, she muffled a depressed sigh at the prospect of a lifetime of such surroundings.
Cassandra came up late to change for dinner, breezing into her room with a smile. The smile faltered when she saw Antonia waiting in the chair beside the lit fire. The day had been warm but evenings still drew in with a chill.
“Toni . . .” Cassie blushed and looked away guiltily as she laid her hat upon the bed. “Aren’t you changing?”
“I can change in five minutes and you know it,” Antonia said repressively. “You deceived me.”
“I . . . I don’t know what you mean.” The girl didn’t meet her eyes. She wandered to the dressing table with an unconvincing show of carelessness and began to unpin her hair. “Bella will be here soon.”
“Bella’s appearance may delay what I have to say. It won’t save you from hearing it.”