sip from her cup. Appalled, she turned to Evvie, hoping that somehow, she would sense how things were going and start up some conversation. But to her dismay, her sister only sat silently beside her, half frowning, half smiling; panic and joy written all across her features.
Lissa swallowed hard. She turned once more to their overwhelming guest. “So, Lord Ivan, how do you find Nodding Knoll? Has it changed much in five years? Or have you been away four? It’s so hard to keep track of time when you live in a little village as we do.” She smiled, but it was a bit too bright.
“It’s been five. And yes, it has changed.” His glance flickered over the shabby interior of the cottage. She colored with embarrassment.
“But not so much that you don’t recognize us, my lord?” Evvie finally chimed in, trying desperately to cheer things up.
“No, not that much.” He looked at Lissa. She looked away.
“Well, the next time you come to tea . . . t-that is,” Evvie stuttered, “if there is a next time . . . that is, of course you’re certainly invited anytime, my lord, anytime . . . that is . . . well, when you do you must tell us all about your life in London, isn’t that right, Lissa?”
“Yes, of course.” She reassured Evvie with a touch on her arm. “But I’m sure Lord Ivan has better things to do with his time than dazzle us with his social triumphs, isn’t that right, my lord?” She gave him a glittering stare.
He suppressed a smile. “On the contrary, I invite you both to Powerscourt anytime to hear about my triumphs.”
Or
be
one of them, Lissa thought unkindly.
“But now, I’m afraid you must excuse me,” he announced.
“Leaving so soon, Lord Ivan? I had hopes you’d stay for dinner.” Evvie stood and held out her hand.
Lissa looked up at her sister as if she’d gone mad. She for one wasn’t about to serve this man shepherd’s pie at their tiny kitchen table.
“A gracious offer, made by a gracious lady.” Lord Powerscourt stood, then reached for Evvie’s hand and took it in a warm grasp. “However, I must refuse. I have another engagement.”
“Miss Alcester,” he said to Evvie in farewell. Lissa watched her sister return his smile. To her bemusement, Evvie actually looked sorry to see him go.
Powerscourt then turned to her. Filled with sudden trepidation, Lissa stood, still keeping hold of her empty teacup.
“Miss Alcester.” He nodded to her coolly. But before she could respond in kind, his eyes suddenly filled with some unnamed emotion. He raised his hand and ran one strong finger down her left cheek, exactly mirroring the path of the scar on his own. Paralyzed by his touch, Lissa closed her eyes and wondered if she was capable of fainting after all. Her heart stopped in her chest and she gasped for breath. Her hand immediately went to her cheek and held the spot that still tingled from his touch. In her state, she was unaware as her teacup slid from her grasp and fell with a dull thud to the carpet.
At Evvie’s gasp, she opened her eyes. But by this time, Ivan Tramore was gone.
CHAPTER THREE
“Mr. Billingsworth! How . . . charmingly . . . forward you are!” Lissa exclaimed the next day as she sat in the Billingsworths’ parlor. She smiled and tried to ignore the liver-spotted hand that rested on her knee. But she was successful for only about three seconds before she nervously rose from the tufted loveseat and stood by the mantel.
“Lizzy, old girl, there’s no need for shyness now! I know you didn’t come here to visit my daughters. It’s clear you’ve reconsidered my suit. And by God, I won’t make you sorry you did! So come now and sit beside me. I want to converse.” Wilmott Billingsworth patted the ruby-velvet upholstery next to him.
At one time, most definitely in the century past, he had been a handsome man. He still sported a hopelessly old-fashioned “parricide” collar, and she couldn’t help but remember the fable about a boy who had worn
Lissa swallowed hard. She turned once more to their overwhelming guest. “So, Lord Ivan, how do you find Nodding Knoll? Has it changed much in five years? Or have you been away four? It’s so hard to keep track of time when you live in a little village as we do.” She smiled, but it was a bit too bright.
“It’s been five. And yes, it has changed.” His glance flickered over the shabby interior of the cottage. She colored with embarrassment.
“But not so much that you don’t recognize us, my lord?” Evvie finally chimed in, trying desperately to cheer things up.
“No, not that much.” He looked at Lissa. She looked away.
“Well, the next time you come to tea . . . t-that is,” Evvie stuttered, “if there is a next time . . . that is, of course you’re certainly invited anytime, my lord, anytime . . . that is . . . well, when you do you must tell us all about your life in London, isn’t that right, Lissa?”
“Yes, of course.” She reassured Evvie with a touch on her arm. “But I’m sure Lord Ivan has better things to do with his time than dazzle us with his social triumphs, isn’t that right, my lord?” She gave him a glittering stare.
He suppressed a smile. “On the contrary, I invite you both to Powerscourt anytime to hear about my triumphs.”
Or
be
one of them, Lissa thought unkindly.
“But now, I’m afraid you must excuse me,” he announced.
“Leaving so soon, Lord Ivan? I had hopes you’d stay for dinner.” Evvie stood and held out her hand.
Lissa looked up at her sister as if she’d gone mad. She for one wasn’t about to serve this man shepherd’s pie at their tiny kitchen table.
“A gracious offer, made by a gracious lady.” Lord Powerscourt stood, then reached for Evvie’s hand and took it in a warm grasp. “However, I must refuse. I have another engagement.”
“Miss Alcester,” he said to Evvie in farewell. Lissa watched her sister return his smile. To her bemusement, Evvie actually looked sorry to see him go.
Powerscourt then turned to her. Filled with sudden trepidation, Lissa stood, still keeping hold of her empty teacup.
“Miss Alcester.” He nodded to her coolly. But before she could respond in kind, his eyes suddenly filled with some unnamed emotion. He raised his hand and ran one strong finger down her left cheek, exactly mirroring the path of the scar on his own. Paralyzed by his touch, Lissa closed her eyes and wondered if she was capable of fainting after all. Her heart stopped in her chest and she gasped for breath. Her hand immediately went to her cheek and held the spot that still tingled from his touch. In her state, she was unaware as her teacup slid from her grasp and fell with a dull thud to the carpet.
At Evvie’s gasp, she opened her eyes. But by this time, Ivan Tramore was gone.
CHAPTER THREE
“Mr. Billingsworth! How . . . charmingly . . . forward you are!” Lissa exclaimed the next day as she sat in the Billingsworths’ parlor. She smiled and tried to ignore the liver-spotted hand that rested on her knee. But she was successful for only about three seconds before she nervously rose from the tufted loveseat and stood by the mantel.
“Lizzy, old girl, there’s no need for shyness now! I know you didn’t come here to visit my daughters. It’s clear you’ve reconsidered my suit. And by God, I won’t make you sorry you did! So come now and sit beside me. I want to converse.” Wilmott Billingsworth patted the ruby-velvet upholstery next to him.
At one time, most definitely in the century past, he had been a handsome man. He still sported a hopelessly old-fashioned “parricide” collar, and she couldn’t help but remember the fable about a boy who had worn
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