As angry as she was at his callous departure, she could scarcely fault him for his lack of feelings. He had never spoken of love nor even mere affection. He had wanted her, nothing more. It was a simple case of lust.
Lee wished she had been able to keep her own emotions as carefully contained. Instead, on the rare occasion she allowed herself to think of him, she felt a sharp sting of longing. She reminded herself she had known from the start her time with Caleb would be brief. If the unlikely circumstance occurred that she found herself with child, she would manage without him. That also, she had known.
At least he hadn't lied to her.
She thought of the women in the house on Buford Street, all of them abandoned by men who professed to love them. And, of course, there was her mother.
Though Vermillion could barely recall her face, she knew her mother had suffered from abandonment and shame. Angelique Durant, the daughter of a courtesan, had fallen hopelessly in love with a nobleman. The man, heir to one of the most powerful titles in England, had rashly spoken of marriage, and Angelique had been foolish enough to believe him. When she learned of his betrothal to another woman, she had been devastated.
One of Lee's few early memories was of her mother sitting on a bench in the garden, sobbing uncontrollably. Years later, Aunt Gabby had explained that an article had appeared in the Times that day, announcing the birth of a son to Robert Leland Montague, Marquess of Kinleigh.
Kinleigh. The man who was Vermillion's father.
Seated on a stool in the music room, Lee lovingly plucked the strings of a gilded harp, evoking the chords of a melancholy song. As she rested her cheek against the finely curved wood, she thought of her mother and began to feel grateful that Caleb was gone.
It was over between them. She had lost a piece of her heart, but not all. She wasn't an innocent any longer and making it known to Lord Nash that it was he she intended to choose the night of her birthday would be far easier now.
"Excuse me, Miss."
Her hands went still. She looked up to see the butler in the doorway.
"Terribly sorry to disturb you, Miss, but your Aunt Gabriella wishes to see you in the Green Drawing Room."
"Thank you, Jones." Tilting the harp back onto its base, Vermillion rose from her stool and started across the library toward the door. In a simple apricot muslin gown and wearing only a hint of rouge, she wasn't dressed for visitors and there was every chance her aunt would be in company with someone.
Then again, it was the middle of the day. Surely, her appearance would be suitable enough.
Making her way along the hall, she heard the husky ring of male voices and again considered a change of attire. But something had happened to her in the past few weeks since she had met Caleb, and she was beginning to feel more comfortable in her own clothes, her own skin. She waited while Jones slid open the drawing-room door, then drew in a steadying breath, pasted on a smile, and walked in.
As she had guessed, her aunt was not alone. There were two uniformed British officers seated across from her, men in scarlet tunics laden with heavy gold braid. Their breeches were navy blue, as well as the cuffs on their immaculate, perfectly tailored scarlet jackets, and tall Hessian boots gleamed in the sunlight coming through the mullioned windows.
They came to their feet the moment she stepped into the drawing room. She summoned her practiced smile, but the smile froze on her lips.
She didn't know the man on the left, but the other one, slightly taller, dark-haired and dark-eyed, was a man she knew only too well. She had spent two nights making love to him. That man was Caleb Tanner.
"Come in, darling." Aunt Gabby motioned her forward. She must have seen the stunned expression on Lee's face for she smiled. "I realize it must be a bit of a shock to find one's groom in full military dress and standing in the drawing room, but it is rather exciting as well. Do join us, dear."
She made her way toward them, walking on legs that felt encased in lead.
"Allow me to introduce Major Mark Sutton and Captain Caleb Tanner." Her eyes twinkled merrily, as if she had stumbled upon some rare bit of news. "I believe you have already made Captain Tanner's acquaintance—as he was recently employed as Parklands' head groom."
Lee wanted to sink into the floor. She wanted to close the distance between them and slap his handsome face. She had known something was wrong, that he was no ordinary servant, but she never would have guessed anything close to this.
In the end, she simply did what she had been trained to do and smiled at him pleasantly. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Captain Tanner. Why has an officer of the British Army been working in our stable?"
Gabriella answered before he could speak, her eyes bright with excitement. "It was a matter of intrigue, it seems. Until today, Captain Tanner was under orders not to reveal his true identity. Perhaps Major Sutton can explain it to you, as he did to me."
Sutton cast her a glance, a taller than average man with curly black hair and a disarming smile. "Let me begin by apologizing for the deceit we have perpetrated upon you and your most charming aunt. I assure you it was necessary."
"Is that so?" She tried not to look at Caleb, but her gaze kept slipping toward him. His face was set, his features grim. She tried not to notice how handsome he looked in his perfectly fitted uniform, his hair cut short, and his face recently shaved. She tried to still the too rapid beating of her heart.
"I'm afraid we believed the deception to be necessary at the time. You see, we were trying to capture a deserter, a cavalryman in Captain Tanner's regiment who had killed an officer during his tenure in Spain. We had reason to believe the man had returned to England and was involved in the business of racing horses. As you know, Captain Tanner has a good deal of expertise in that area and it was believed he could be of assistance."
"I see." She didn't, of course. She couldn't seem to concentrate on the major's words.
"Five days ago, the man we were seeking was apprehended near the racecourse in York, and Captain Tanner was recalled to his duties. Both the Captain and I wished to personally apologize for any inconvenience you might have suffered."
She stared hard at Caleb, who hadn't yet said a word. "This man… did he… did he have anything to do with the murder of Mary Goodhouse?"
Caleb shook his head, his eyes dark and fixed on her face. "No. I'm afraid this was a completely separate matter."
"Smile, darling. Jacob has returned and all is well. And in a roundabout manner, we have been instrumental in capturing a fugitive from justice."
Smile. She thought she already was.
"In celebration," Aunt Gabby went on, "I've invited Major Sutton and Captain Tanner to join us for supper. Perhaps if we are lucky, they will share a few of their adventures in Spain."
She could feel the muscles tightening around her mouth as she forced her lips to curve. "How delightful. I'm sure that will make for a fascinating evening. For now, however, I'm afraid I shall have to leave you. There are several matters of importance I need to attend. If you gentlemen will excuse me… ?"
"Of course." Major Sutton made her a very gallant bow and Caleb made a polite nod of his head.
As she turned toward the door, his eyes caught hers one last time. There was turmoil there and something else she could not name. She hoped he could read the seething anger in her own and that he would be wise enough to stay away from her as long as he was there.
Of course Caleb didn't stay away. Though supper was an intimate affair by Aunt Gabby's standards, Lee dressed in a midnight blue silk gown trimmed with blue lace, seated herself at her dressing table, and waited while Jeannie pinned up her hair, coiffing it in soft curls over a narrow diamond headband.
Diamonds encircled her throat and glittered in her ears. Though the gown was daringly low-cut, she wore a little less powder tonight and only a dash of rouge on her lips and cheeks. She told herself it had nothing to do with Caleb, but she knew it wasn't the truth.