A
MANDA ENJOYED RIDING AROUND
the estate grounds that afternoon with Devin. Sarahtoo proved to be as gentle as her namesake, and it occurred to Amanda that she was beginning to really like riding. Her father wanted her to give up the notion of rounding out her lessons with the sidesaddle, which she was happy to agree with, since she’d been dreading
those
lessons. So riding no longer had any worries associated with it.
She pointed out to Devin all the places she had played as a child with either Rafe or her friend Rebecca, reminding him, “You met Rebecca at the ball, and my cousin Rupert, whom she married recently. You’ll see them tonight at dinner. Aunt Julie arrived this morning with her family.”
“I won’t intrude on a family dinner.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re our guest. It would be rude to decline.”
He gave her an amused look. “And how is it you think that would concern me?”
“Of course.” She tsked. “I forgot rudeness is your forte.”
He chuckled and said with a roguish grin, “I have a few, but that isn’t one of them.”
He was just teasing. She knew that. Yet the remark made her cheeks light up anyway because she didn’t doubt he’d just made a reference to his kissing skill, which he’d demonstrated twice for her—or perhaps something even
more
intimate, which she dreamily imagined him demonstrating for her.
But he wiped away the titillating thought by reminding her that his skill with horses was also one of his fortes when he added, “I’m going to be training your mare while I’m here. I want to make sure she doesn’t give you any difficulty.”
“Thank you.”
He did show up for dinner that night, when she’d almost been sure he wouldn’t. Ophelia and Raphael were there, both greeting him when he entered the room, though Rafe’s expression was a little less cordial than Ophelia’s. Esmerelda, Preston’s oldest sister, had shown up early, too, for Rafe’s birthday. She’d brought a lap robe to dinner and was wearing a coat over her thick brocade gown, which she intended to keep on, causing a few grins from those already gathered when she shooed off the footman who tried to take it from her. Her presence was why the room was a trifle warm tonight. She complained of cold nearly as much as her mother, Agatha, did. Agatha Locke usually declined to leave her rooms for any reason these days because of it, and tonight was no exception, though tomorrow night Preston would insist she make an appearance.
Julie was delighted to see Devin again and gave him an effusive greeting. She found him to be a perfect foil to her gruffness because he didn’t bat an eye over it, and she was in good form with that tonight, thanks to Rupert’s attire. Rupert was
too handsome. Women even called him beautiful when he put on effeminate airs, which he did deliberately whenever he wore his bright satins. He wore them just for his mother, to rile her. It always worked.
Julie had sacrificed her softer side so many years ago so she could take on the role of both parents for her sons while they were so young. In an extreme transformation that mostly amused the family, she turned herself into somewhat of a bully. Rupert simply gave his mother purpose when he donned such unfashionable clothes, giving her something to browbeat him about, so she would continue to think her boys needed her. He didn’t actually wear those dandy clothes out in public, he only let her think he did. Besides, he rarely dressed outlandishly anymore because it was harder to get a reaction from his mother over it, when she was so pleased with him for finally settling down with a wife.
He was giving it a good attempt tonight, though, and his bright lemon satin coat with lace dripping from both cuffs immediately drew Julie’s eyes and her caustic remark “One of these days I’m going to find where you hide those atrocious clothes and make pillows out of them.”
Rupert gave her an angelic smile. “My tailor loves me.”
Julie snorted. “Your tailor should be shot.”
“Don’t worry, Mother. I won’t embarrass Uncle Preston once the guests start arriving.”
Preston didn’t even glance up from eating to say in one of his more authoritative tones, “I know you won’t.”
But Julie pointed directly at Devin to say, “We already have a guest.”
Rupert glanced at Devin, too, grinned, then told his mother, “Cupids don’t count because they favor flitting around
bare-arsed naked shooting little bows.” And to Devin: “Oh, I say, old man, we would make a pair, wouldn’t we?”
Julie scowled. Everyone else followed Preston’s lead and dug into his or her meal, except Devin, who was still watching the unusual one-sided bickering with interest.
“Using the proverbial
image
when the man does nothing of the sort?” Julie said to her son. “That doesn’t let
you
off the hook, m’boy.”
For some reason Julie wasn’t letting the subject go tonight as she usually did after a few disgruntled remarks, probably because they
did
have a guest, so she was embarrassed more than usual by her oldest son’s looking like a peacock. But Rebecca intervened, whispering something to her husband. He chuckled, but her expression turned stern, which made him stand up with a sigh.
He said with an aggrieved expression that most of them could tell was contrived, “You’ve finally won, Mother. You now have m’wife on your side.”
“About bloody time,” Julie mumbled as Rupert left the room to change into something reasonable.
Rebecca gave her mother-in-law a look that said,
Enough,
and Julie immediately turned her attention to Devin instead. Rarely mincing words, she posed a question that was bold even for her. “So, young man, we wonder, who is Cupid interested in?”
If Devin was surprised to become the center of attention with such a personal question directed at him, he hid it well, merely saying, “If such a lady existed, I wouldn’t discuss her over dinner, madam.”
“But I think more’n one of us are quite interested,” Julie continued.
“Indeed? Why?”
“How will it look if the man who makes happy marriages for others doesn’t have one himself?”
That was simply too personal even for Julie’s bluntness, prompting Preston to intervene at last. “Julie, m’dear, if you don’t give it a rest tonight, I’m going to hire Devin to find
you
a mate.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” at least four relatives said in so many words, both of Julie’s sons present included.
That did shut Julie up for the moment, and separate conversations started up after that. Raphael, sitting next to Devin, remarked on the pretty new mare he’d seen in the stable. Amanda didn’t hear Devin’s reply because she was reminded of her surprise just before dinner, when she’d asked her father what the mare had cost and found out that Devin had given the horse to her as a gift.
“He wouldn’t take payment for her, although I insisted several times,” Preston had answered. “Said she was a well-deserved gift for your courage and perseverance. You didn’t know?”
“No, I—I suppose he was embarrassed by the gesture so didn’t want to mention it to me” was all she could think to say about it.
He
should
have told her. The reason he gave her father was simple enough, so why couldn’t he have told
her
that? But she wasn’t sitting next to him tonight so she wasn’t able to ask. She wished she were sitting next to him. Sitting across the table from him, she found it difficult to keep her eyes off him, and she lost count of the number of times their eyes met. She felt herself blushing every time she thought he might have noticed those covert glances. Rebecca noticed and kept grinning at her. Her brother noticed and frowned at her a few times.
Unfortunately, her father had noticed, too, and pulled her aside after dinner. “Should I speak to Devin about his intentions?”
She gasped. “No, of course not. His only intention is to turn me into an avid horsewoman.”
Preston raised a brow. “Yet you have trouble keeping your eyes off the man.”
She groaned inwardly. “Devin is very handsome. I can’t help noticing that.” She quickly added, “So are Lord Kendall and Lord Robert.”
Preston gave her a skeptical look. “I saw you with Brigston, m’dear. You barely looked at him the entire time he was in the same room with you.”
She sighed. “I’m confused is all. It’s deuced difficult, deciding between them, and while I’d hoped and prayed to have this
very
difficulty to deal with, now that I do have it, I don’t like it one bit!”
He chuckled over that complaint, but it suddenly dawned on her what his original question had implied. Amazed, she asked, “You actually wouldn’t object to Devin as a husband for me?”
“Why would I?”
“When I first saw him, I thought he was a brute. He doesn’t care if he gives that impression, you know. He is a gem in the rough, as it were, definitely not typical gentry. He’ll insult you without blinking, won’t even try to prevaricate to be polite as he ought to.”
Preston laughed over her less than flattering description. “Yet he’s still from good family, and I actually like his forthright manner. He’s simply down-to-earth as many country lords are who prefer to avoid the frivolities of London. Besides, it’s your
happiness that concerns me. I don’t think I’d object to any man you fell in love with, with the exception of someone mired in a scandal or an actual criminal. I would trust your heart in the matter.”
Her heart. Which way
was
her heart leaning? Good Lord, shouldn’t that be obvious by now?
“H
E
’
S ARRIVED!
”
Amanda hurried to her bedroom window to see whom Phoebe was talking about. Lord Robert was just stepping out of his coach. Not everyone would show up today, the first official day of the country gathering. But Robert’s early arrival was a good sign that he was eager to see her again.
“He’s so dashing and handsome,” Phoebe continued, then with a sigh added, “Almost makes me wish I’d waited as you did, instead of settling on a husband last Season.”
Amanda was shocked by her friend’s statement. “I thought you loved your Archibald.”
“I do, of course I do, but the bloom has definitely worn off. He’s still as attentive as he’s always been, but, he stays away from home more and more now and,” she added in a whisper, “I’m glad he does.”
“I’m so sorry, Phoebe!”
Phoebe gave a halfhearted smile. “Don’t be silly, m’dear. It’s still a solid marriage, I suppose. I don’t really find fault with
him. It’s ironic, though, that I might not have ever noticed that we’ve grown apart if Cupid’s philosophy hadn’t turned up in the gossip mill, how he puts such stock in common ground.”
Amanda scoffed, “You just have to look at my brother’s marriage to know Cupid’s approach isn’t the
only
way to happiness.”
“No, but definitely helpful. It just made me realize that my husband and I have no shared interests a’tall and never did—well, other than going to parties. We do both still enjoy that.”
“Have you tried discussing this with Archibald? Perhaps there’s something else you might enjoy doing together that you just haven’t discovered yet?”
“Goodness no! We rarely talk about anything of a personal nature.”
That was just—sad. Two people who shared a bed . . . Amanda winced at the thought, remembering that Phoebe was one of her friends who’d said she and her husband had separate bedrooms. It was still sad. Husband and wife should be able to discuss anything, not be wrapped up in “proper” so extensively they carried it into marriage.
Amanda tried to find a bright side for her friend. “It could be worse. He could be a philanderer and not even try to hide it. He could be a gambler and racing you to the poorhouse. And you know there was something there to begin with, or you never would have said yes to him. So don’t give up yet! Rediscover that bloom you two had.”
Phoebe hugged her. “Listen to you, the maiden giving the matron advice. I haven’t given up hope, I’ve merely slipped into the comfortable part of marriage a little sooner than expected, I suppose. But you’re right, there’s no reason we can’t ignite the spark again.”
They were still standing at the window when the next coach
pulled up and Phoebe said, “Is that Lord Culley? I haven’t seen him since I was a child. I thought he’d gotten too old to socialize.”
Amanda chuckled. “Does anyone ever get too old for that? But Owen Culley is an old friend of my aunt Esmerelda. He married one of her school chums.”
The party wasn’t just for the younger set. Old friends of the family’s had been invited, too, which was why the guest list had become so long. But the original idea was for the two men Amanda was most interested in to be in attendance, so she’d have access to them for a whole week to make up her mind which one she preferred.
That a third man was present whom she found even more fascinating now might just be a distraction from her goal. Especially now that she felt empathy for him, over his secret. He might not have meant to share that with her, but he did, and no matter how she looked at it, it had brought them closer, definitely friends at the very least.