Ten Things I Hate About the Duke - Loretta Chase Page 0,42
well enough. It isn’t called the Marriage Mart for nothing.”
“My sister is a jewel who ought to be displayed in elegant settings,” Cassandra said. “I wish you could have seen the way she sparkled at the hot, stuffy, fancy fair. It comes to her naturally. She’s simply herself, and the men swoon. True, men see little else but the outside, and she is beautiful, but her nature makes her more so.”
“Aunt has promised to help,” Alice said.
They both looked back. Gentlemen on horseback now surrounded Aunt Julia and Hyacinth.
“How interesting,” Alice said.
“You see? How unfair that she may not have the rest of her Season. I vow, Papa is—”
“No, no, I mean Lord Frederick Beckingham.”
“Where?” Cassandra saw a cluster of men on horseback. It took her a moment to recognize Lord Frederick at this distance. Then he became all too familiar, so similar in build to his nephew. The way he held his head. And the shoulders, those big shoulders.
“He isn’t there for Hyacinth, I promise you,” Alice said.
Cassandra wouldn’t be surprised if he were. Not a month ago, the eighteen-year-old daughter of Charles Manners-Sutton had married a man of nearly fifty. An extremely wealthy man.
“I could say nothing in front of our aunt, but I wish you might have seen them dancing last night,” Alice said. “I’m certain they’ve a history of some kind. I’ve caught hints from time to time, but whatever the story is, it happened before you and I were born. All I can tell you is, one could practically see the sparks fly.”
What Cassandra saw was the gentlemen dispersing, and Hyacinth riding toward Cassandra and Alice, leaving the older couple trailing a short distance behind.
“Did Lord Frederick frighten away all your admirers?” Alice said when Hyacinth caught up.
Hyacinth laughed. “Oh, no. He only waved his hand, like this.” She gave the merest sketch of a wave. “And they began to fall away. Do you know, I think he fancies Aunt Julia.”
“That, or they are two wily old courtiers plotting,” Alice said.
“Perhaps both,” Hyacinth said. “Not so old, either.”
Cassandra said nothing. She was remembering a small dismissive wave of a ducal hand, and its effect on bystanders in Putney Heath.
Marry me.
She glanced at her sister, then at the pair behind them.
No, she could never be so desperate.
If Ashmont had to leave London—and he did see the wisdom of it, even if he didn’t like it—he might as well do it quickly, and get it over with all the sooner. He sent a message to Blackwood, who agreed as promptly as he’d always used to do before he was married.
Since Ashmont couldn’t take his leave of Miss Pomfret directly, he did it by proxy. He and Blackwood called on Lady Charles on Sunday, shortly after she’d returned from church. For the present, she was living at her parents’ London residence, Chelsfield House. Her own town house wouldn’t be fit for habitation, she said, for a month or more.
The more formal rooms being still draped in holland covers, the two dukes joined her in the morning room.
“I’ve left a skeleton staff at Camberley Place,” she said. “You may wish to stop for a while to fish. As I recollect, you’ve never needed a great army of servants about you. Even Ripley, who’s always liked his creature comforts, was content to live rough at the fishing house. More than content. None of you liked to leave, as I recollect.”
Ashmont and Blackwood looked at each other, then at her. They had planned to go to the Stockbridge races, then on to other races in the July calendar.
But Camberley Place . . . the wonderful fishing house where they’d taken refuge as boys and young men . . . the atmosphere of the ancient place altogether . . . so many happy memories.
“Am I to understand we’re still welcome?” Blackwood said.
“It will be quiet,” she said. “I thought you would like a time of quiet.”
“To ponder our sins,” Blackwood said with a small smile.
“Fishing is good for the soul,” she said. “That’s what my husband claimed. He continued to fish until he couldn’t anymore. You might as well go. I’m sure he’d suggest it.”
That settled the question.
Lord Charles Ancaster, like his house, had been a refuge although, as boys, they wouldn’t have understood it quite that way. They only knew that the place felt right, they liked him and Lady Charles immensely, they felt better when they were there, and they hated to leave.