The Bareknuckle Groom - Holly Bush Page 0,26

indulgently as she stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“It’s been a pleasure seeing you, Miss Vermeal,” he said to her aunt and then turned to her. “I enjoyed our conversation very much. Perhaps we will get a chance to finish it sometime.”

She stared at him. He was purely adoring of his sister and not afraid in the least to reveal it. She could have pressed herself up against his body, right there in front of her aunt, his sister, and all the gawkers that action would elicit. There was a pull between them she’d never experienced before, and she wanted more of it. She didn’t want it to end.

“Fascinating,” she said. “Fascinating was what I was going to say earlier.”

He smiled slowly at her, showing off that small chip on his front tooth and making her blush. “It was very nice to meet you, Miss Thompson. Aunt? We’d best be getting home.”

“I hope that this evening I will not be subjected to the children you insist on inviting so often, Louisa,” Henri Vermeal said as they were seated for dinner several days later.

“Not this evening, no, Henri, although I believe ‘subjecting’ is a bit strong a word for two young people who have been delightful and intelligent, with exceptional manners,” Aunt Louisa replied. “I’m meeting them tomorrow for an outing to the Philadelphia Library.”

“I have no idea why you cultivate his acquaintance. He strikes me as someone of little consequence. It’s no wonder that Father discouraged his suit all those years ago.” He lifted one arched brow. “Twenty years? A lifetime.”

Aunt laid down her fork and knife on either side of her plate and looked at her brother across the length of the table. “We have discussed marriage in general terms, and if he formally proposes to me, I will marry him once Lucinda is settled in her own marriage.”

“That’s preposterous! There are duties here that I need you for, Louisa. Continue to indulge yourself if you must with outings with him and his brood, but anything more than that is out of the question.”

“Is it, Henri? I am independently wealthy and well past the age that I seek or require your approval.”

“Independently wealthy, are you?”

“Don’t threaten me, Henri,” Aunt said. “If I walked out of this house with nothing but the clothes on my back, it would not matter. Renaldo is very, very wealthy.”

“I need you to attend to things here!”

“Then marry again, Henri. Leave Lucinda and me out of your schemes.”

“Speaking of Lucinda,” her father said and turned to look at her. “I have received invitations for us to a dinner at the Pendergasts’. This is the son of the family whose new wife is sister to that . . . that street ruffian. We will not be attending. I’ll send our refusal forthwith.”

“Really, Henri? I would have thought you would be delighted to attend a dinner where the host’s uncle, Mr. Nathan Pendergast, and his wife, Isadora, are attending. The wife’s brother sits on the board of that railway you are so interested in. But what do I know about the intricacies of business?” Aunt said.

Lucinda so enjoyed watching her aunt manage her father. He would bluster and shout and eventually quietly concede. For her part, she allowed her father to maintain his dignity and changed the subject completely.

“Yes, you must go,” James said to Payden. “This is your sister’s first party. Just think how hurt she would be if you didn’t attend.”

Payden stormed out of the parlor, leaving Muireall, with her stitching, and James.

“You seem keen to attend this party,” Muireall said. “I agree with Payden. I’d much rather stay home than attend another event with ‘good’ society.”

“Elspeth would be crushed if you didn’t attend,” James replied, shaking out the newspaper in his hands and folding it until he was on the page listing the businesses looking for workers.

“Kirsty told me about the two women she was introduced to last week when you took the delivery to Green’s,” Muireall said. “She said you walked across the street with the young woman while she shopped with the woman’s aunt. She also told me she is the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen.”

“Really?” James studied the list in the paper. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Muireall harrumphed. “Do you think stories of the women who you court, although none of them good enough to bring here to meet your family, don’t reach my ears? You are infamous with the unmarried ladies, James, and apparently a favorite among the widows.”

“You shouldn’t