Brighton Road (26 page)

Despite herself, she was beginning to enjoy
the verbal sparring, when Justin rose abruptly to his feet,
stretching his long limbs. "I warn the two of you, if you commence
talking about a bunch of musty Romans, I will be off at once."

"Greeks, my dear fellow," Ramsey said. "The
story of Penelope and Odysseus is from Greece."

Justin shrugged. "It is all one to me. I
think it much better if we get to the purpose of my visit." He
fished inside his waistcoat pocket. A look of annoyance crossed his
tanned features. "Hang it all. I have forgotten the ring."

Aurelia froze, her needle poked halfway into
a stitch. No! Surely not! Justin could not be meaning to carry on
with his proposal, not under the critical eyes of Everard
Ramsey.

After patting his coat pockets, Justin threw
up his hands. "Oh, well, I can always bring the ring by another
day. The important thing is to settle when the banns will be cried
and set a date." He paused, flashing his most engagingly boyish
grin. "By the bye, Reely, you do wish to marry me, don't you?"

Aurelia opened her mouth, but the words
refused to come. She felt the color flood into her face, hurt,
embarrassment, and anger warring within her breast.

Everard Ramsey heaved himself to his feet.
"This is the outside of enough! Even for you, Justin." Ramsey took
an awkward step backward, kicking over Aurelia's workbasket. The
contents spilled to the floor, unnoticed by him as he spluttered,
"To be making Miss Sinclair an offer with me sitting here!" An
expression of irritation crossed his fine-chiseled features. "Ah, I
see. It is another one of your pranks, Justin. You and Miss
Sinclair are making a May game of me."

"Not at all. Aurelia and I are completely
serious," Justin said. "Are we not, Reely?"

"Yes." At least, she was. She could not
decide who infuriated her more, Justin, with his thoughtlessness,
or Mr. Ramsey, who believed the mere idea of Justin marrying her
would have to be in the nature of a jest. She started to rise,
longing to give both of them a good set-down, but even after all
these years, the icy voice of her mother echoed inside her head.
A lady, Aurelia, never loses her temper.

She took a deep breath to steady herself,
counting backward in French.

Ramsey glowered at Justin. "I think you might
defer this to a more appropriate moment."

"Completely, unnecessary, sir," Aurelia broke
in. Doubtless the fashionable Mr. Ramsey hoped that, in the
meantime, he might be able to prevent his friend's becoming engaged
to such a dowdy, unattractive female. She raised her chin to stare
defiantly into Ramsey's blue eyes. "Of course, I will accept your
offer, Justin. With the greatest of pleasure."

Ramsey's lips compressed into a rigid line of
disapproval, which only seemed to deepen when Justin strode over
and clapped him on the back.

"Excellent. Then everything is settled. Why
put yourself into such a taking, Ev? Reely is not in the least
offended by the manner of my proposal, so why should you be?•

"If Miss Sinclair is not offended, then she
ought to be. Even in an arranged marriage, there are certain
courtesies that ought to observed."

"Don't be ridiculous. Reely and I are old
friends. Our estates march alongside-each other. Our marriage has
been expected for years. Why, Reely is not in the least romantic.
She would laugh in my face if I were to drop to one knee and spout
a parcel of sentimental nonsense to her, would you not, old
fellow?"

Aurelia swallowed before answering with a
lightness she was far from feeling. "I don't know. It might prove
quite useful if you were to kneel on the carpet. You might chance
to alight upon the needle I dropped."

Justin chuckled, turning to flash a
triumphant grin at his friend.

Ramsey's face settled into a mask of
indifference. "It would seem the pair of you are well suited.
Permit me to offer my felicitations."

"Too kind of you, I'm sure," Aurelia said
with a brittle smile. Her satisfaction in having nettled Mr. Ramsey
faded along with all her daydreams that Justin would somehow learn
to return her feelings of love. When would she ever learn that
romance was not for such a one as she? But maybe if Ramsey had not
been present, Justin would have been more…No, she feared he would
have proceeded in the same graceless manner. Justin would always be
Justin, and there was nothing that would ever change him. Were not
his unpredictability, his lack of regard for the conventions, all
part of his charm?

A friendship, a marriage of convenience, was
all he desired. She would have to learn to accept that if she meant
to be his wife. Fortunately she had never worn her heart on her
sleeve. Justin need never know of her love for him. Maybe she had
not enough pride to refuse his offer, but she had enough to conceal
that folly from him. She ate another chocolate and returned to her
stitching, trying to appear as casual about the morning's events as
Justin did.

The two men busied themselves righting her
workbasket, gathering up the pincushion, thread, and skeins of
yarn. Ramsey straightened, examining a small leather-bound
volume

"You astonish me, Miss Sinclair. I would not
have thought anyone as unromantic as you proclaim yourself to be
would have a taste for Byronic poetry."

With a sinking sensation she realized Ramsey
had gotten hold of her edition of The Corsair. It must have fallen
out when the workbasket tipped.

"Oh, no! That belongs to my companion." She
snatched it out of his hands just as he was opening the book to the
flyleaf.

Ramsey looked considerably surprised when she
stuffed the volume behind the sofa cushion, leaning against it.
Better that he should think her a bit touched in the upper works
than he should read that foolish inscription. How his lip would
curl in scorn.

"I shall have to tell Effie to be more
careful with her books," she said.

"Indeed." Ramsey hooded his eyes, the look in
them unfathomable.

Justin rubbed his hands together. "I suppose
I should hasten back to Penborough to convey the glad tidings to my
mother and Clarice."

"Yes," Aurelia said wryly. "Only fancy how
astounded they will be."

Justin laughed. "Alt, Reely, that is what I
like best about you. You are such a jokesmith.-

"Truly. I am so amusing, I laugh at myself,
sometimes." The words nearly caught in her throat. If only he and
Mr. Ramsey would leave. Her smile was feeling strained, and absurd
tears were beginning to prickle at the back of her eyes. She
prepared to see the gentlemen out, but as she tried to set her
needlework aside, she was appalled to realize she had sewn all the
way through the linen into the fabric of her dress.

Amelia nearly groaned aloud. It was as if the
Fates conspired this morning to make her appear a total fool. She
settled the frame back onto her lap, hoping that neither Justin nor
Mr. Ramsey—especially not Mr. Ramsey—had noticed.

"Forgive me if I don't see you to the door,"
she said, "since we do not stand on ceremony here."

Justin smiled, his mind apparently on nothing
more than escape. He bent over and placed a chaste kiss upon her
cheek, assuring her he would call upon her again very soon. The
kiss was so far from what she had hoped for after his proposal that
her heart did not even skip a beat.

She felt a surge of relief as he strode
toward the door, but Everard Ramsey seemed determined to discomfit
her to the last. While she sat with her hands draped awkwardly over
the linen, trying to pretend nothing was amiss, the man lingered.
Finding another spool of thread, he leisurely replaced it in her
sewing basket before ducking into a low bow to make his
farewells.

"Thank you for a most, er, interesting
morning, Miss Sinclair. I hope we will meet again, soon."

And I hope you choke on your own cravat, she
thought. Aloud, she said, "So nice of you to call. Good day,
sir."

"Come along, Ev," Justin called from the
threshold. "If I cannot ride Trueblood, I may need you to take me
up in your curricle."

As though oblivious of Justin's impatience,
Ramsey slowly raised one of Aurelia's hands and carried it briefly
to his lips. Struggling to appear composed, she dared not move
until the music room door closed behind the two men.

"Thank God," she said. No matter how
disastrous the rest of the morning had been, at least she could
congratulate herself upon having hoodwinked the sharp-eyed Mr.
Ramsey. She relaxed, allowing her hands to fall back into her lap.
It was then she realized Ramsey had somehow found opportunity for
dropping an object on top of the stitchery.

Aurelia emitted a heavy sigh as her fingers
closed over her scissors.