Beatrice relaxed. Either Joshua was dissembling very well, or he had no idea that Grey had been trying to trip him up.
“I wouldn’t be shocked at all,” Gwyn said. “A structure of such magnitude? Quite expensive to build.”
Her brother’s expression altered, and for a moment interest glinted in his eyes. “Indeed it is. Which is why it still remains unfinished.”
“A ruined ruins,” Grey said acidly. “I have several of those on my estates, but we call them ‘tenant cottages.’” When Beatrice shot him a quick glance, he added, “My father was rather lax in keeping up his property, something I am determined to change.”
“Yes, yes,” Gwyn said with a dismissive wave of her hand, “we know all about your grand schemes to make improvements, Grey. But these are deliberate ruins, created just for show. I’ve heard of the English doing them, but never thought I’d be near one.” She smiled at Joshua. “I should very much like to see these ruins.”
“I doubt a lady as fine as you would consider it entertaining,” Joshua said.
Gwyn lifted an eyebrow. “Even fine ladies can have unusual interests, sir. But then you might know that if you ever came to visit us.”
Joshua narrowed his gaze on her. “You would welcome a visit from your half brother’s gamekeeper, madam?”
“My half brother’s cousin, sir.” Challenge glinted in her eyes. “That makes you family.”
“You and I aren’t related, Lady Gwyn,” Joshua said in a hard voice. “Thank God.”
“Trust me, Major Wolfe,” she said with a coy tilt to her head, “I’m as delighted as you to hear that we are in no wise related.”
Joshua appeared momentarily rendered speechless.
Beatrice nearly crowed her pleasure aloud. She would love to learn that trick. Never mind the come-out lessons—perhaps Gwyn could give her a lesson in how to handle prickly brothers, since the lady managed to keep her own mostly in line.
“In any case,” Gwyn went on, with a fluttering of her lashes, “I would be simply ecstatic if you would show me the estate ruins, sir.”
“You could go there yourself,” Joshua said. “I’ll tell you how to find it.”
“Then I’d miss the informative commentary you’re sure to provide,” Gwyn said. “I wouldn’t hear of it.”
When Joshua drew himself up as if preparing for battle, Sheridan stepped in. “Please forgive my impatient sister. She has a passion for old buildings. She fills notebooks with rapt descriptions of their artistic characteristics and their ancient part in history. When we were children, she was incessantly dragging me, Thorn, and Heywood down some secluded street in Berlin to see a house she thought was ‘splendid.’”
Gwyn sniffed. “It was good for you. None of you have an adequate sense of the beauties of architecture.”
As Grey rolled his eyes, it dawned on Beatrice that this might be a good chance for her to show him and Sheridan that she wasn’t bothered by the prospect of witnessing the site of Uncle Armie’s demise, since it happened to be close to the ruins. But it would only work if she could make sure that Joshua was left out of it.
“I can take you to see it.” Beatrice broadened her gaze to include Sheridan and Grey. “It’s a few miles away—we could all walk or ride there.”
“Only if Major Wolfe joins us. What do you think, sir?” Gwyn asked Joshua. “Shall we go now?”
The direct request for immediate satisfaction struck terror into Beatrice’s heart. She figured she could govern her own reaction at seeing the spot where Uncle Armie had died, but how was she to govern Joshua’s?
A muscle worked in Joshua’s jaw. “You seem to have forgotten, madam, that I came here merely to fetch my sister home.”
Beatrice watched his face. A mask had come down over it that made his expression unreadable. But if she had to guess, she’d say he was none too happy at the prospect of accompanying guests out to the ruins.
She glanced over to find Grey equally interested in her brother’s reaction, blast him. “It’s growing late for it, anyway,” Beatrice said. “By the time we got there, it would be too dark to see anything.”
“Then let’s visit the ruins tomorrow,” Grey said.
“A capital idea!” Gwyn cried. “We can make an excursion of it, bring a picnic lunch and everything.”
“But Gwyn,” Aunt Lydia put in, “what about the lessons?”
“If I don’t have a chance to be outdoors for at least one day, Mama, I shall go mad,” Gwyn said. “We have months for our lessons. And you know how