by Heather Boyd
As he passed close to the front hall doorway, he was hailed by a familiar voice.
“Windermere, there you are, and a sight for sore eyes indeed in this mad crush.”
Richard hurried forward and embraced his cousin, Mr. Adrian Hill. “I expected you both days ago,” he told the man. “What kept you?”
When they drew apart, Hill’s wife Carolyn stepped forward to kiss his cheek. “We spent a few days in Berkeley, taking in the sights, which made us a bit later than we’d hoped.”
“It’s lovely there, so I can understand the attraction to linger.” He smiled. He’d only fleetingly wondered about their delay, and since he could see all was well with them, he wouldn’t worry about them again. “I trust the servants are seeing your luggage is taken upstairs to your usual rooms.”
“Collins assured us it would be done immediately.” Carolyn craned her neck to gawk at the guests. After a moment, her hand flew to her hair. “I must look a sight arriving in the middle of a ball wearing a carriage dress.”
“You look lovely.” Richard squeezed her arm then led them to the base of the stairs so they could retreat to their rooms and change for the ball. Unless… He turned to them. “I say, if you don’t feel up to joining us for dancing tonight after the long day of travel, I completely understand. There is another smaller fete later this week too.”
Carolyn smiled, her shoulders sagging. “You would not mind?”
Richard liked his cousin’s wife very much so he nodded. She hated to let anyone down, but she always seemed fearful of disappointing him particularly. He’d no idea why. “I will catch up with you both tomorrow I am sure. Ask a footman to deliver a supper if you’re hungry. There should be spirits aplenty in your room.”
“Thank you, but we will both join the guests as soon as we have changed,” Hill advised, straightened his shoulders as he glanced around the hall to see who was in attendance.
“Yes, of course, my dear,” Carolyn quickly murmured, chin dropping.
Hill shook his hand and swiftly led his wife upstairs, an arm curled protectively about her back. Richard followed their progress with a heavy heart. They had actually met here under his roof and had been inseparable ever since their marriage. However, his cousin liked to do things his way, despite his wife’s opposite feelings or rather obvious exhaustion.
Avery joined him and draped an arm about his shoulders. “No luck, still, in luring her away from Adrian’s side,” he whispered.
“Avery, do stop talking nonsense. She appears to be tired and I was merely concerned.” He threw off Avery’s embrace. “I’d never be interested in our cousin’s wife and I strongly suggest, again, that you don’t let anyone else think so either. She’s too devoted to Adrian to allow anything improper.”
“She likes you, for some strange reason.” His brother shrugged. “But the more the merrier has always been my motto.”
“And doesn’t every woman who accepts an invitation into your bed come to regret it later.” Richard pursed his lips and glanced about to check who was nearby. “Stay away from her and find yourself a wife. A legal wife, rather than the family nonsense. You might just need an heir before too long.”
Avery’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s you who needs the heir, not me.”
“That there isn’t one already should be a warning to us both.” Why lie to his brother? It wasn’t as if they hadn’t discussed marriage and babies, the pressing need for them, before. He was getting a bit long in the tooth for having never sired a child.
Avery frowned at him. “Why do you resist the family traditions and go out to capture a bride?”
“The family traditions are perverse,” he insisted, scowling at the idea. He drew close to his brother. “I will not abduct a woman, chain her to a tree stump, and fuck her while she hangs there helpless. That is not my idea of how to begin a loving marriage.”
“Don’t criticize what you haven’t tried.” Avery smirked. “I, however, will take full advantage of the excitement our family traditions inspire in the females of my acquaintance without the hindrance of a real marriage. You don’t have to complete all that the ritual entails. What’s a bit of dangling between friends, eh?”
“I won’t do it.” Richard stalked away, dissatisfaction gripping him. By tradition, the titleholder and heirs of the Windermere estate were to abduct, seduce and consummate their relationship in the forest on the east of the estate before they legally wed. In the dead of night, of all times. Richard had been sired in that manner, born four months after the wedding, as had his father and every earl before him for six generations. Even his cousin Adrian had taken his Carolyn to the wishing tree in pursuit of his heir. Nine months later, Carolyn was delivered of a son and Adrian had been smug ever since.
It was all nonsense, of course, that such a ritual would ensure the succession. Perpetuating the myth was something he’d never, ever subject a woman to. He wanted the practice to die with him.
He forced his disgust away and concentrated instead on being a good host. Occasionally, he saw Esme flitting about the crowd ahead of him, but for the most part she continued to keep a distance. She had not made it easy on him when he’d apologized. He’d been a fool, and a rude one, and she made no effort to hide her amusement.
Damn vexing wench. Always one step ahead of him no matter how hard he tried not to be trailing behind. She was a woman of passionate opinion and he never backed down without reason. Their frequent debates had gained notoriety for the ton, which was likely why society had assumed they were engaged in a heated affair that had turned sour as he’d stormed away from her London residence without his horse.
She’d been so right about his butler though. Oswin wasn’t a young man anymore, and the late nights of the party and demanding guests were already taking a toll on his health. The man hinted he’d remain at his post until Richard had his heir, too, which was another worry. How much longer could it take to fall in love and make an heir the right way?
He found Esme in the crowd again. Despite the smile she bestowed on those around her, she seemed unhappy, and it surprised him that he noticed. She was usually bubbling over with energy when she was around the friends they shared.
He moved toward her, drawn in a way he wasn’t used to. Meriwether was thankfully elsewhere, boring others with his tedious quest for a private guard in London. For the life of him, Richard could not work out why Esme was with the man. They must have next to nothing in common besides sex. “Ladies, I do hope you are having a pleasant evening.”
Lady Heathcote promised she was but became distracted by another guest and turned away. He stared at her graceful back a moment, admiring the lovely curves before him and her pale-blonde hair fashioned into an elaborate style on the top of her head. She was the standard many young ladies should aspire too. She was never without a clever quip; never without her composure intact, no matter the circumstance.
That left him with Lady Ames for company. “Will you honor me with a dance tonight, Harriet?”
“At least you ask,” she muttered under her breath before handing over the little cards his sister had passed out to all the ladies for tonight’s event. Harriet’s card was bare, not even Avery’s name marked upon it, so he claimed the next set and a later one, and remained to converse with her until their dance was at last called.
Harriet had been coming to his estate for many years and while they were not particularly close, never once intimate, she had been his brother’s longest romantic partner and he genuinely liked having her here. However, as they settled into the dance, he couldn’t dismiss his partner’s distraction. She sighed a great deal more than was required of the chore of dancing with him. He was concerned enough to ask about her current mood. “What’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing, my lord,” she responded quickly, a touch more bite to her words than called for. Harriet was not much like Esme, who ordinarily expressed every single disappointment she came across openly to him. She usually hid her feelings much better.
“I’m having a lovely evening. Jillian has outdone herself on your behalf.”
“She has and I’m very grateful,” he murmured. “As you might imagine, Avery is no help at all.”
Harriet dipped her face low, staring at his cravat as they danced, leaving Richard a clear view over her head. His brother stood on the sidelines chatting to Lady Small, a woman recently widowed and uninvolved. When they passed the pair by, Harriet sighed heavily. “I can believe it.”
Was Avery’s attention to the widow the cause of her low mood? If so, he wouldn’t blame the woman for being put out. Avery should have asked Harriet to dance, since he’d been the one to invite her to the house party in the first place. “Avery’s head is always turned by a pretty face, but it never stays there,” he said, hoping to soothe Harriet’s disappointment.
“But it turns so often it begs the question will he ever stop looking elsewhere first,” Harriet replied in a voice edged with resignation.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. It was a pity Avery hadn’t settled down with Harriet. The woman was good for him, but Avery wasn’t exactly the most committed man to any woman. He and Avery were poles apart in nature and attitude on that score. Avery was wild. Richard had responsibilities he couldn’t shirk much longer. He needed an heir.
He changed the subject. “Have you everything you need in your room?”
“Yes, the room is as comfortable as ever. Thank you. I’ve always enjoyed coming to Windermere each year.” She frowned. “But I have not seen Mr. and Mrs. Adrian Hill as yet. Are they visiting too this year?”
“They arrived not half an hour ago. They stopped on the journey in Berkeley, and Carolyn appears quite done in. I suggested they skip the party but Adrian assured me they would join us soon.”
“She’s a woman with child, or was when she last wrote to me, so the journey would have tired her,” Harriet murmured, her gaze drawn across the floor to where Avery now danced enthusiastically with a red-faced Lady Small. She stared then shook her head. “Would you excuse me, and from our next dance too? I urgently need to speak with Carolyn.”
“Yes, of course I don’t mind. By all means, seek them out.” Richard escorted Harriet from the floor before the dance ended and followed her progress as she weaved through the crowd and swiftly disappeared.
While he rejoiced at the news his cousin’s wife would have a third child, he was also swept up in a wave of sadness. No wonder Hill had supported his wife on the stairs. He was looking out for his growing family.
The one that will replace mine and take the title from us if we don’t father our offspring first.
Richard swallowed his bitter pill of resignation and went in search of a worthy distraction to dull the ache of wanting a son to follow after him.
Maybe he should try the wishing tree at least once, just to be sure lack of faith, for want of a better term, wasn’t the only problem with him.
Three
Esme searched the remaining public rooms for Meriwether, but she found no sign of him. Disappointed and more than a bit put out from the fruitless chase, she retraced her steps to the ballroom and mingled with the crowd while admiring the dancers twirling beneath Windermere’s triple chandeliers.
Although asked more than once to take a turn upon the floor, she declined the invitations. She wasn’t in the mood for that kind of dancing. She’d much rather do something more intimate and invigorating and in private with her lover.
She huffed out a breath. If he could be persuaded to stay by my side long enough.
Her favorite footman in Lord Windermere’s employ, a young brother to her indispensible Penny, appeared and presented her with a glass of blessedly cold champagne.
“Thank you, Pip,” she murmured as she gratefully sipped her drink. “Did you manage to spend any time with your sister yet?”
“Not much, my lady,” he whispered back.
The preparations for tonight’s ball generally involved all the staff and allowed little time for any servant to stand around idly chatting, even to a member of their own family. Pip and Penny Bradshaw were all the family they had, and they’d been apart a year. “Tomorrow will be easier for Penny. I will sleep late so you’ll have ample time to catch up in the morning.”
“You’re very generous, my lady.”
She winked. “Anything to prevent your sister sighing so loudly when she misses you when we leave again. Anyone would think you’d gone off to war instead of gaining a position in a beautiful country estate like this.”
He smothered a laugh, for he knew his sister’s habit of wild exaggeration all too well, and then turned away to continue serving the guests champagne.
Esme was very proud of how the young man had turned out. Pip had spent a few months in her home under the tutelage of her senior staff, acquiring the polish to gain himself a better position than she could offer. He’d been successful in winning over Windermere’s staff and gained employment as a footman, but she knew his ambition was for a butler’s position to make his sister proud.
Esme made her way to Lady Small’s side, where she stood alone, clapping along as a dance ended. “Quite the gathering, isn’t it, my dear? Did you by chance notice where Harriet went? I have not seen her for a while.”
Lady Small’s expression was one of sour disapproval. “I expect she is entertaining Lord Avery Hill in his bedchamber by now.”
More than likely. “You disapprove?”
“Indeed I do.” Lady Small shivered. “Do you know what that man dared suggest to me? I’m in utter shock still.”
Lord Avery Hill had a penchant for speaking bluntly of his sexual adventures and appetite. Some women liked that sort of thing, others not so much. “That often happens when one speaks to him for the first time,” Esme informed her in all seriousness. “Consider it a test of character. I’m sure he will not be so brazen again.”
“It’s scandalous,” Lady Small hissed. “And to suggest a dalliance with someone else in the room too.”
Ah, he’d suggested a ménage a trois. “Each to their own.” Esme shrugged. “Don’t make up your mind that you won’t like something until you’ve at least tried it once.”
Lady Small stared at her in shock. “I don’t think so.”
“You might be pleasantly surprised by the experience,” she murmured. Esme had tried, but preferred to be the center of attention for one man only.
The crowd quieted suddenly and she looked about them in surprise. The quartet that had been playing in competition with the crowd’s noise trilled a few notes and fell silent too. All the guests faced the far side of the room, and since a broad, masculine back blocked her view, Esme stepped up beside the man, noticing belatedly that Lord Windermere had been close enough to likely eavesdrop on her conversation with Lady Small.
A hearty male voice called for attention and Esme stretched to see who dared interrupt the dancing. Sir Jeffrey Follows, a local knight who’d joined them for several dinners in past years, kept clearing his throat rather importantly. “If I could have your attention please,” he said at last. “It gives me great pleasure to announce that Mr. Albert Meriwether has asked for my daughter, Jane’s, hand in marriage, and I have given them my blessing. He shall marry our darling girl before the month is out.”
Esme froze as everyone else clapped, unable to believe what she’d heard. Meriwether smiled at Jane with a satisfied expression on his face.
The heartless scoundrel. How could he stand there as his marriage was announced without warning her first?
“I guess he wasn’t yours after all,” Lady Small whispered in her ear cruelly.
Esme fumed. How could he embarrass her in such a way? He had never hinted he was involved with any other lady and certainly never mentioned a wish to marry. If he had, she’d never have slept with him. By morning she would be the laughingstock of the entire house party.
Windermere held out his arm. “A good match,” he mused aloud. “Come, my dear Esme. Shall we toast the happy match in priv
ate?”
Although surprised by Windermere’s support at such a moment, she was grateful for the lifeline he offered. She needed to get out of the room before she said or did something she’d regret. She could not wish Meriwether happiness. Not in her current temper. She needed a good excuse to slip away and give vent to her irritation in private.
She placed her arm through Lord Windermere’s and allowed him to lead her from the room, satisfied beyond reason when they passed Lady Small. The woman stood with her mouth agape.
When they reached the entrance hall, he squeezed her hand and glanced around. “Almost out of earshot. Just a bit farther. Did I show you the new paintings in my bedchamber?”
His question cut straight through her anger. She raised her eyes to his. “I’ve never visited your bedchamber before, Windermere, and you know it.”
He grinned. “Then you must come. Multiple times, I think.”
She drew away from him. “Don’t imagine—”
His expression turned serious and he chivvied her up the staircase. “It’s the fastest way to cut off spiteful gossip. If we are both noticeably absent for a while, there’s something else for my guests to talk about. Deprive them of their fun at your expense with a different tale of conquest.”
“You knew about him?”
He took her arm and sped her up the next flight of stairs. “Not about the marriage. That caught me by surprise, and I would have spoken of it if I’d had any inkling. I must say I am not unhappy about it. The damned fool was hardly deserving of your intimate company.”