Darling Beast (Maiden Lane #7)(44)

Lady Phoebe stiffened.

Mr. MacLeish sobered immediately, eyeing the pistols strapped across Captain Trevillion’s chest. “And who might you be, sir?”

Before the man could reply, Lady Phoebe said, “This is Captain James Trevillion, who has been set to guard me by my brother, like a dog chained before a tasty pork pie.”

“I think of you, my lady, as more of an apple tart,” Captain Trevillion murmured. He turned to the younger man. “And you are?”

“Mr. Malcolm MacLeish,” the Scotsman replied, and Lily was glad to see that he didn’t look at all cowed by the former dragoon’s stern manner. Caliban had explained that Captain Trevillion was some sort of business acquaintance, but she had seen the soldier try to kill him, and only recently, so she thought she might be forgiven a bit of prejudice. “I’ve been commissioned as architect for the rebuilding of Harte’s Folly by His Grace the Duke of Montgomery. He informed me that the garden designer, a Mr. Smith, was to be found here.”

Caliban had stilled during this little speech and at the end of it he nodded. “I am… he.”

Mr. MacLeish brightened. “Very good to meet you, sir.” He held out his hand and for a moment Caliban looked at it as if it were a strange and foreign thing before he seemed to recollect himself and shook hands with younger man. “If you’ll show me the grounds and what you yourself have planned, I would be most grateful.”

Captain Trevillion’s eyes narrowed and he exchanged some type of significant glance with Caliban.

Lily sighed. She really was getting quite tired of not knowing what was going on.

And apparently she wasn’t the only one.

“Your pardon,” Lady Phoebe said, suddenly sounding every inch the daughter of a duke, “but I don’t think you introduced me to Mr. Smith, Captain. I confess myself curious to meet the man you were so eager to see today.”

Lily could tell by the stiffening of Captain Trevillion’s back that he did not care for Lady Phoebe’s interruption, but for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why.

Yet he said politely enough, “My lady, may I present Mr.…”

“Sam,” Caliban supplied. “Just Sam Smith.”

“Mr. Sam Smith?” Captain Trevillion continued smoothly. “Mr. Smith, Lady Phoebe Batten, the Duke of Wakefield’s sister.”

Lady Phoebe held out her hand imperiously and Caliban was forced to take it, bowing over it as he said in his broken voice, “My lady… I am most… pleased to meet you.”

She cocked her head at his voice. “Have you a cold, Mr. Smith?”

“No… my lady,” he said so gently that Lily felt an unfamiliar pang of jealousy. “I recently… injured my throat and… as a result… my voice.”

She nodded. “I see.”

He tried to extricate his hand from hers, but she seemed to hold him fast. “Tell me, Mr. Smith, and know that it is a mortal sin to lie to a blind woman: have we met before?”

The strangest expression crossed Caliban’s face. Lily wasn’t entirely sure, but it seemed to be sadness. “No… my lady. We’ve… never met.”

“Ah,” she said, finally letting go of his hand. “My mistake, then.”

Caliban turned to Mr. MacLeish. “I shall be… happy to show… you about the garden… such as it is… sir.” He hesitated and glanced at Lily. “I believe… you were… interested in the… garden as well… ma’am? Would… you like a… tour sometime… after luncheon? Say… three of the clock?”

Lily felt suddenly breathless, but she managed to say calmly enough, “I shall look forward to it, Mr. Smith.”

He nodded. “Then… if you’ll all… excuse us?” He gestured with one arm, rather gracefully. “This way… if you please… Mr. MacLeish.”

“Of course,” said that gentleman. “Lady Phoebe, Miss Goodfellow, a positive delight to meet you both. I do hope our paths will cross again.”

“As do I,” Lady Phoebe replied, smiling.

Lily dipped another curtsy and murmured her farewells.

Mr. MacLeish sobered as he touched his hand to his hat. “Captain Trevillion. A pleasure.”

“All mine, I assure you,” the soldier drawled, so drily he might as well have been exhaling dust.

They watched the two men stride off, Caliban already explaining his plan for the garden.

Captain Trevillion pivoted back to the ladies. “If you’re ready, my lady, I do seem to recall you had some ‘important’ shopping to accomplish this afternoon.”

“Shopping is always quite important, Captain,” Lady Phoebe replied in a very serious tone. “But Miss Goodfellow has been so kind as to consent to give me the secret to her jam tartlets.”

“Has she.” The soldier’s tone was flat, with only a very small hint of disbelief.

Lady Phoebe smiled cheerily. “She has. Please be so kind as to wander a ways off so that we may consult on the matter. I’m sure the place you chose to speak with Mr. Smith was far enough away that you might not be overheard. Perhaps you can wait there.”

Captain Trevillion bowed woodenly. “My lady.”

He limped away and for a moment Lily felt almost sorry for the man. He was so very proud and it was obvious that Lady Phoebe used him a trifle hard sometimes.