Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Having been lost and circling through the halls of the Winstone House for the last ten minutes, Lydia was grateful to see her mother and sisters entering the art gallery with other guests.

"There you are, Lydia! Come join us for a tour around the gallery." Lady Briarwood waved her toward the entrance and linked their arms together. "My goodness, your skin is cold! Have you been walking outside again? Lydia, you cannot just roam around other people's property studying plants and architecture all day. This is a party, dearest."

"Yes, Mama. But how do we ever discover new things if we do not read and inquire and explore?" Lydia shivered again and leaned into her mother's warm arm.

"You don't," Lady Briarwood whispered into her ear. "You behave like a lady and busy yourself with ladylike pursuits."

Lydia sighed and thought about her exchanges with the viscount thus far. They were as unladylike as they came.

"And what of paintings like this one, Mama? Is that a ladylike pursuit?"

All four Carter women stared up at a strange oil painting of a man and woman framed in gold. The woman was sitting in an elegant drawing room while reaching her hand toward something outside the border of the painting. Her feet were bound together on the floor with many pretty ribbons, while the man faced away from her with his eyes closed.

"Very strange." Eleanor looked away and walked on.

"Too modern." Charlotte frowned and joined her.

"It's heartbreaking." A wave of nausea rippled through Lydia's stomach and she pressed a hand over her belly. "There is something foreboding about this piece, no?"

Lady Briarwood stared at the image with her eyebrows knitted together. "How very unusual. I rather prefer Charlotte's chipmunks."

Eleanor and Charlotte giggled with their mother and moved on to view the sculptures, but Lydia couldn't yet tear her eyes away from the painting.

"The woman is trapped and the man is her captor. It's clearly a statement about a woman's lot in high society. She has no choices. There are only his choices."

"Are you talking to yourself, sister? I knew these balls would someday drive you to madness." Lydia's brother, William, peeked over her shoulder and broke her concentration.

"Oh, what would you know, brother? You're exactly the kind of man portrayed in this painting. Privileged to a fault and unwilling to listen if the voice of reason is female."

Lydia turned around to hear what she assumed would be her brother's silly response, but he looked down and mumbled his reply.

"I am not the man in that painting. Nor will I ever be."

William walked away and disappeared into the hallway. She thought about following him to ask if he was quite well but decided against it. Lydia had her own feelings to wrestle with today, and William had brushed her off or told her to mind her own business more times than she could count.

Today she would take his advice and keep the rest of her thoughts to herself. It was the best way to get through a night surrounded by every soul from Mayfair in the same building. And as long as she could avoid the Viscount Winstone for the rest of the evening, she just might survive it.

A few minutes later, a parade of pretty debutants with glasses of punch in their hands walked past the art gallery, followed by the Countess Winstone. Before Lydia could duck behind a statue, Lady Winstone noticed her and called her name.

"Lady Lydia, join us! We're hosting a contest for the young ladies and eligible gentlemen in attendance tonight. Please tell your sisters!"

Despite preferring to be a wallflower, Lydia's interest was piqued. "A contest? What kind of contest?"

"Come and see!"

Many people followed her down the long main hallway back toward the ballroom. Lydia heard the orchestra stop playing and Lord Winstone asking for the attention of his guests.

Without finding her sisters first, Lydia left the gallery and returned to the ballroom, but she stood just outside the main doors to listen in.

"Esteemed guests, we're honored by your presence tonight at what I think we can all agree is the event of the season, hosted by the incomparable Countess Winstone!"

Cheers and claps filled the ballroom as Lady Winstone took a bow at her husband's side at the back of the room.

"This evening, the countess has outdone herself by creating a trivia contest between the eligible gents and fine unmarried ladies! The questions will cover various topics from proper etiquette to history and more. If you would like to participate in the contest, please write your name on the cards being passed around. Then drop your card in the proper bowl for a random selection of each lady and gentleman who will compete with one another!"

Lydia watched some of the young ladies nearly tackle the footmen to the ground in order to grab a name card from their hands. The eligible gentlemen were thankfully more orderly. They dropped their completed name cards into the bowl held by Lord Winstone, while the ladies placed their cards in the bowl held in Lady Winstone's arms.

When every name card had been gathered, the ballroom filled with rumblings of anticipation for which men and women would compete against each other.

"We're about to begin!" Lord Winstone shouted over the buzzing crowd. "Do we have any final contestants for our game?"

Everyone scanned the room to see if anyone else would volunteer. Then Lady Winstone stepped out onto the dance floor and studied the faces of the men who had already added their names.

"Wait a moment. Where is Viscount Winstone? Joseph?"

Lydia stayed in the shadows at the ballroom entrance while people inside searched the crowd for the viscount.

"Are we both hiding from my mother's blatant marriage market game or is it just me?"

At the sound of Joseph Penton's voice behind her ear, Lydia felt her skin prickle with goosebumps. Will this man forever unsettle me from now on?

"It seems this avoidance is the one thing we have in common, my lord. Though I doubt you could best me in a trivia challenge, I have no interest in competing for a gentleman's attention in front of Mayfair's elite."

"Is that so, Lady Lydia? Maybe you should prove it." Joseph stepped out from his hiding place behind Lydia and waved toward his mother from the ballroom entrance.

"I'm here, my lady! Don't forget to include the very eligible marquess. Briarwood's eldest daughter, Lady Lydia. She was just saying how much she loves trivia games." Joseph pointed at Lydia and grinned.

"Excellent, Lady Lydia! We will add your name to a card for you. Come, both of you, and join our contest. Lord Winstone, please explain to our guests how it works." Lady Winstone approached Lydia with a smile and waved her into the room as Joseph joined the line of men competing in the game.

"Of course, my lady!" Her husband drew one card from each bowl and held the cards high over his head. "We will choose one gentleman and one lady to start our contest. The first person of this pair to answer three questions correctly wins and goes on to face the next name we draw from the bowl. So it's quite possible that none of you will compete, but the final couple standing will surely be a grand match to watch this season! We encourage the other contestants to mingle and get to know one another in-between rounds, of course."

Lord Wintone handed his wife the two name cards he drew for her to read out loud.

"Our first contestants are the Viscount of Wheaton and Lady Liza Newcastle!"

Lydia crossed her arms and sighed. Could this night get any longer and more ridiculous?

"Contestants, here is your first question. What year was our Prince Regent, King George IV born?" Lord Winstone bellowed the question across the ballroom and waited.

Lydia's ears perked up. She knew the answer but assumed everyone else in the room would know their current king's date of birth, too.

Lord Wheaton offered the first guess. "1760?"

"Sorry, that is incorrect! Lady Liza, do you know the answer?"

Lydia suppressed the urge to shout out the correct date as Lady Liza chewed her thumbnail and shook her head.

"I am certain that Lord Wheaton's answer was much closer than I could care to guess." Lady Liza peered up at Lord Wheaton through her long lashes as she returned her coy gaze with a toothy grin.

"Is she really choosing not to guess at all in order to impress that bloody dolt?" Lydia didn't realize she'd said the words aloud until two young women standing near her gasped and moved away.

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath. "Well, he is a dolt and she's making a laughingstock of us all."

Remembering her brother's promise to elbow her every time she was out of line made Lydia instinctively pull her arms close to her body to protect her ribs, but William was nowhere in sight.

"The answer is 1762! We have no winner yet, but your next question is an easy one. Which hour is the most popular for promenade with eligible gents and ladies such as yourselves in Hyde Park?" Lord Winstone looked up from his question sheets and peered at the contestants over his round reading glasses.

Lord Wheaton winked at Lady Liza. "You guess first this time, Lady Liza."

She curtsied and beamed at her handsome opponent. "I dare say the best promenade hour would be the one of your choosing, Lord Wheaton."

Lydia sighed heavily and caught Viscount Winstone's expression as he studied the contestants and scowled. At least I'm not the only one who thinks these people are buffoons.

"Perhaps I should extend an invitation and we could find out together, Lady Liza." Lord Wheaton extended his arm and the two of them walked away from Lord Winstone as if he'd just arranged their courtship himself.

"The answer is the five o'clock hour, but it looks as though even losing answers can lead to a match in this game! Please draw two new names, Lady Winstone."

The contest worked its way through six more couples until Viscount Winstone's name was called to face Miss Wilhelmina Underwood. As Miss Underwood walked past Lydia, she bumped into her with such force that it felt quite on purpose.

"You're in the way," she said to Lydia without a word of apology, then walked on.

"And you're bloody rude," Lydia whispered behind Miss Underwood's back, but the stunning black-haired woman stopped and turned around.

"I beg your pardon? Did you say something to me?" Wilhelmina looked down her elegant nose at Lydia, who stood several inches shorter.

"Nothing of note, miss. Best of luck with the viscount." Lydia kept her gaze steady on the rude woman she'd never met before. She'd only just learned her name when Lord Winstone called it.

"Oh, I won't need any luck winning with the viscount, whether I lose this game or not." Miss Underwood seemed to bare her teeth through an eerie smirk at Lydia, then walked away.

Lydia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. What in the world was that about?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we only have two eligible ladies left for this competition! Miss Underwood, welcome to you. Please stand here. Now for the first question between Lord Joseph Winstone and Miss Wilhelmina Underwood."

Lydia looked at the ladies standing around her and realized she was the last female contestant who hadn't yet had a turn. That meant if Joseph won against Miss Underwood, Lydia would face him next.

Unless I slip out of this room now and escape to the garden again!

She considered this option for a few moments but was too interested in the trivia questions and seeing how this competition turned out.

Joseph and Wilhelmina each got two questions right, then came the tiebreaker that would determine which of them would move on to the next round.

Thus far, Lydia was impressed by the viscount's correct answers to some fairly challenging trivia questions about world history. Though it wasn't really fair to ask such questions of the ladies of polite society who weren't often taught such facts or encouraged to know them.

"According to Lady Pennington's book An Unfortunate Mother's Advice to Her Absent Daughters, what should be a person's highest goal? Miss Underwood, you may answer first." Lord Winstone's enthusiasm for the game seemed to wane as his voice grew hoarse from shouting so everyone could hear.

Wilhelmina nodded and answered with a smug grin. "The answer is perfection. One must pursue perfection. Would you agree, my lord? Or would a viscount be required to read such a book of conduct meant for fine ladies?"

Miss Underwood's voice was laced with sarcasm, probably because she assumed this question was purposely used in her favor. After all, Lady Pennington's book was written to teach proper conduct for girls, not for boys.

But Joseph looked confident nonetheless. Lydia watched a smile spread across his face as he winked at his mother, who had a clear expression of pride on her own.

"That's where you'd be incorrect, Miss Underwood. As luck would have it, our mother read that particular book to my brothers and me so we would know the proper conduct of a proper spouse. Therefore, I must disagree with you. The correct answer is virtue. Lady Pennington's guide encouraged the pursuit of perfection only so one could also achieve the highest goal of virtue."

"My son is correct! Bravo, Joseph! Virtue is the right answer. I fear this means you will not continue on, Miss Underwood. Thank you for your participation. You've been a strong and worthy rival for the viscount, to be sure!"

Wilhelmina stood perfectly still for a moment as if she intended to challenge the Earl of Winstone's decision. Then she quietly accepted her loss, curtsied, and walked out of the ballroom with her head held high.

Lord Winstone's energy bounced back as he called the final name from the bowl of young lady contestants. "Lady Lydia Carter, please join us for the final round!"

Startled by the sound of her name, Lydia reluctantly moved to stand across from Joseph as his father selected another question from the sheets of paper in his hands.

"Joseph and Lady Lydia, here is your first question for the final round of this contest. True or false: A woman should not discuss religion or politics in polite company. Joseph, I'll have you answer this one first."

Lydia's right eye started twitching upon hearing such an absurd question based on the rules of polite society that she loathed. But the viscount seemed to enjoy her discomfort so much he pretended to need extra time to determine the correct answer.

Joseph ran a hand through his hair and folded his arm to rest his chin on his fist to think. "What a fine question, Father! However, answering it might prove tricky. You see, a woman with a brilliant mind and spirited wit might attempt such conversations without considering her place. But would she be wrong to do so, given she is a creature prone to overthinking, after all? It's perplexing, is it not?"

Lydia's every nerve was on fire as she bit her lip to keep from scolding the viscount in front of both of their families and everyone else.

"Stop playing the fool, son. You just established your knowledge of a lady's etiquette, so what is your answer?" Lord Winstone's stomach growled like rumbling thunder, then actual thunder boomed with tremendous force outside and shook the walls of Winstone House.

Surprised gasps filled the room as Lady Winstone clutched the glittering amethyst brooch on her purple French silk dress. "Oh my! Should we break to check the weather, my lord?" She touched her husband's arm as some of the men in the ballroom headed toward the exit to do just that.

"Yes, my lady. Good idea. We will resume our game after a short break, everyone! Please enjoy more dancing until then!" Lord Winstone signaled for the musicians to play and followed some of his guests out to the entryway of Winstone House to assess the state of the sky.

Joseph checked his pocket watch, then snapped its gold lid closed and glanced at Lydia. "It appears you avoided the agony of defeat, Lady Lydia. At least for now."

"Forgive me, my lord, for I'm only a woman and therefore should not be permitted to speak for myself." Lydia narrowed her eyes at the viscount and turned to leave the ballroom.

Joseph's hand on her arm made her pause.

"My lady, you cannot truly believe that I do not value the opinion of a woman, do you? I think you need to work on growing a thicker skin or these games of ours will become quite vexing for you." He chuckled and released his hold on Lydia's arm.

"These games will not continue, Lord Winstone! Upon my word, you have wasted more of my time in one day than any other person I've ever known."

"Ah, but it's all for science, is it not, Lady Lydia? I'm happy to be your experiment, no matter the consequences to us both."

Lydia's cheeks flared red as Joseph's eyes twinkled. She curtsied in front of the most exasperating man she'd ever met, then went looking for her father to insist that they leave at once.

She'd had enough of the Winstone House and everyone who occupied it. Thank goodness she would soon be asleep in her own bed and never have to speak to the Viscount Winstone again.

Lydia strode down the great halls of the first floor, looking for her parents, and came upon the Winstone library. When she ducked inside, the vast walls of full bookcases took her breath away.

The library seemed to be split into two rooms. Once she'd admired the first for a few minutes, she approached the second door that was left ajar and heard voices coming from within.

"Are you quite well, madam?"

A woman was crying inside the second room where a man was asking about her health.

"Just go, please. It's no use." The crying woman's voice sounded muffled, as if she were pressing a handkerchief to her mouth.

When Lydia dared to discreetly peek around the corner through the open second doorway, what she saw made her jump back.

Sophia Penton, Joseph's sister-in-law, was crying into the chest of Lydia's brother, William.

"William!" Lydia cried out from instinct, knowing that if her brother and another man's wife were caught like this they would all be ruined.

William's head jerked up when he heard his name, and Sophia pushed away from his body and turned toward the wall.

"Lydia, you frightened me! I was simply consoling Lady Sophia after I found her crying alone in this room. You have disturbed a friend comforting a friend, nothing more."

Sophia turned back toward him and looked into his eyes, then began crying again. She didn't say a word other than wail with sadness as she ran past Lydia and disappeared out of the library.

"Brother, we must leave here at once. I'm beginning to fear that our connection with any Penton, male or female, might lead to our demise. This house and this family are dangerous to our family's reputation!"

William grabbed Lydia's arms and gave her a strong shake. "Stop these hysterics at once, sister! I told you, I was merely consoling the distraught woman. The Pentons are a fine family and we are staying for an exclusive dinner this evening that is just as important for our family's connections in society as this entire event. So calm yourself. Our relationship with the Pentons is strong and untarnished. Go back to the ballroom and behave like a lady. I will hear nothing more on this matter."

Lydia stared up at her brother with frustration and disbelief. "Behave like a lady? You dare to chastise me after holding a married woman in your arms, and while unchaperoned? William, you have been my closest ally in our household since I was a young girl. But I no longer understand the man you have become. My beloved brother would not speak to me in such a way as to belittle my existence!"

"You are too dramatic for your own good, Lydia. We grow up and we change. You are changing, too. And I have grown tired of this conversation. I will take my leave of you now. Don't follow me."

William pushed past Lydia and disappeared out the same door that Sophia had just rushed through.

The wave of nausea she'd felt in the art gallery filled her gut again as Lydia took some deep breaths and collected herself. When she finally forced her legs to take her back through the main room of the library, a low voice rose from a dark corner between two bookcases.

"It seems to me the Carter family is just as capable of causing their own ruin as any of us Pentons could."

Lydia jumped with fright and slammed into a marble pedestal holding a tall blue Wedgwood vase. She felt the vase topple over behind her back and somehow reached out and caught it before it crashed to the floor.

She hugged the vase to her chest and panted through panic as Lord Winstone emerged from the shadows.

"Are you mad, sir? Explain yourself!" Lydia's long chestnut hair had loosened from its pins in her wild dash to save the vase. It now tumbled down her shoulders and a long curl dipped between her breasts.

"I think you need to take your brother's advice and behave like a lady in my home. I am your host, am I not? I do not need to explain my presence in my own damn library. But I fear your brother cannot say the same." The viscount quickly bridged the space between himself and Lydia without invitation and pulled the priceless vase from her arms.

"What can you mean? My brother and I were discussing a private matter that has nothing to do with you." Lydia tried to tuck her hair back into her stylish chignon, then gave up.

Even though they'd only met that afternoon, Joseph Penton was the last person she felt the need to impress or prove herself a proper lady. That pretense dissolved the moment I spotted him soaking all of his alluring appendages in the mineral spring.

Still, there was no denying Joseph's physical appeal. His broad shoulders, strong jaw, and piercing eyes made her heartbeat quicken so much she felt faint. It was shocking how strong her urge was to reach out and stroke his cheek. Instead, she fixated on fullness of his lips as he scolded her, wishing she could grab onto the cravat around his neck and tug him close enough to kiss.

"Now who's the mad one in the room, Lady Lydia? I saw your brother holding my sister-in-law as a husband holds a wife! You just stopped them before I did because you seem to take ownership of every space you inhabit. I stepped to the shadows because I could not accuse a man of impropriety with a young lady poking about and opening any doors she pleases in someone else's home, as apparently your brother feels entitled to do as well. And then you dare to insult my family when your own has behaved so badly, as witnessed by us both! No, my lady. It is you who should explain yourself. Unless you'd rather explain what just happened with his wife to my brother, Oliver, instead?"

Lydia's breathing grew more haggard as the flutters of her attraction to him were replaced by stabs of panic that rose through her chest. She pressed a hand over her heart and knew she'd have to say something to ease the tension between them before it was too late.

"My lord, I apologize. Please do not judge my brother for what you saw, but for what he says. I believe him, and so should you. He came upon Lady Sophia in distress and merely tried to console her as any caring gentleman would. I dare say I respect him for that. I hope you will, too."

Joseph placed the Wedgwood vase back on its pedestal, then pulled a pair of white gloves from his jacket pocket and began tugging them onto his hands. Lydia watched him sheath his fingers and found herself wanting to feel them pressing into the flesh of her backside as he kissed across her clavicle at the base of her neck.

Damn that bloody anatomy book!

"I find it amusing, my lady, that you would admonish your brother with disbelief and then preach of his honesty to me."

A powerful beam of light flashed through the library windows, followed closely by more booming thunder. Joseph's whole body seemed lit like a spectacular firework for just a second. Seeing him look so dazzling sent a new shockwave of desire through Lydia's bloodstream that awakened every nerve ending in the sensitive bud of her sex.

She breathed her way through that new feeling as if she were still panicking, but far from it. Lydia gained new strength with each pulse of awareness that she was capable of such magnificent arousal.

Though, she was also quite thankful that not a single one of her appendages gave her secret want for the viscount away.

"Lord Winstone, I'm sure you understand that siblings speak to each other with more intimate and protective language. In addition, I was reacting from shock and not thinking clearly." Lydia folded her hands together and studied Joseph's eyes with more confidence in her own. "I trust that we can put this matter behind us and move forward with mutual respect, can we not?"

A devilish grin played at the corner of Lord Winstone's lips as he moved toward the library door. "Why start now?"