Magical Weddings (6 page)

“That was not well done of you, Simon–sending Jane off without so much as a mouthful to eat. What was so important that you must drive her away?”

“
Jane
–now I remember her name. A warning for you, Celia. Watch out for Draycott.”

Celia’s eyebrows rose. “What in heaven’s name are you talking about? The baron and I have barely exchanged words.”

And smiles. But you probably don’t realize I noticed that.
“He told me last night you’re the perfect choice to be a baroness, since you’re not the sort to get above yourself.”

“How would he know that about me?”

Simon let his voice go dry. “How he came by that notion is an interesting question indeed.”

The way she caught her lower lip between her teeth boded no good, he knew from experience.

“The baron is quite an insightful man, it appears.” To his annoyance, she sounded intrigued rather than put off. “Perhaps I should try to get to know him better.”

Did she really take his insights so lightly? “He’s also been totting up how much your dowry must run to, in case he opts to offer for you.”

“Well, that makes things easy for you, doesn’t it? You need only drop a hint that my expectations are limited to the five hundred guineas I might win from you, and that would put an end to his interest.”

“Do you think I’m so unsporting as that?”

“I am comforted that you do not plan to interfere. But of course your freedom is worth five hundred guineas, especially since Uncle Rupert would blame me, not you, for setting his plans awry.”

“It appears you’re just as insightful as the baron is,” Simon muttered.

“Thank you, dear cousin.” She leaned closer. The rose-water scent tickled his nose and tugged at something deep inside him, and warning bells went off in Simon’s head. “As long as you and I are sharing advice, I couldn’t help but notice you’ve barely spoken a word to Lady Hester.”

He knew he should ignore her. Not that it would do any good to try, for when Celia decided to speak her mind, nothing would stop her.

“Pretending not to notice her isn’t a bad idea,” she went on. “Ignoring her might even help to pique her interest–so long as you don’t overdo the thing. But you might do well to pay particular attention to the other young ladies as well. I suspect Hester thinks she has you safely fascinated, always there just off to the side, waiting for the moment when she wants you again.”

“Your logic is always fascinating, Celia. Who would you suggest I pay particular attention to?”

“The Carew sisters,” she said promptly.

“
Both
of them? I hardly think–”

“It’s not as if you’re seriously pursuing them–though perhaps you should, for they are very plump in the pockets, I understand. Their dowries will be so large even you couldn’t turn up your nose. However, the point is if you were to win interest from a Carew sister, Hester would have to take notice.”

“I shall bear that in mind.”

Celia smiled suddenly, a naughty elfin grin that lit up her eyes and made her face glow. “There’s no reason you can’t do it, Simon. You can be charming–when you try.”

No wonder the baron was intrigued. When she smiled like that, every man in the vicinity must feel heat sparkling across his skin.

“A compliment from my cousin,” he said wryly. “I shall mark this day down as notable.”

Celia sat up straight, tilting her head with an ear toward the door. “I think… yes, I am persuaded I hear Baron Draycott in the entrance hall. You will excuse me, Simon?”

Without waiting for him to answer, much less rise respectfully from his chair, she was gone.

Simon shook his head and decided to have another cup of coffee rather than wander out into the hall to watch Celia make a fool of herself. He had done all he could; she had been warned.

It wouldn’t be his fault if she took the caution as a challenge instead.

****

Celia had been right that she’d heard Baron Draycott’s drawl, but she didn’t realize until she was almost at the foot of the grand staircase that he was descending with a Carew sister on each arm. She glanced over her shoulder, thankful to see that Simon hadn’t followed her. Amusing as the situation would no doubt have been for him, Celia wasn’t certain she could restrain herself from giving him a swift kick in the shins if he dared to laugh at her.

The baron and his two damsels reached the main floor and he bowed elegantly to each of the sisters as he excused himself. “Though of course I am loathe to leave you, Lord Stone wants to get an early start in order to bag enough birds for a feast tonight in the bride’s honor.”

Dimity pouted prettily–at least the young woman must have thought her pout made her look charming, or she wouldn’t have let her mouth twist like that. Prudence sighed as the baron went off toward the back of the house where the gun room must be located.

“I do think the baron is quite the best-looking man here,” Dimity said.

“At least, the best-looking
eligible
man,” Prudence added.

Celia rolled her eyes. The baron wasn’t unpleasant in looks, though he’d be greatly improved if he allowed his valet to tame the too-long, too-curly hair that made him look like he was wearing a small yellow lamb on his head. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if he ended up tangled in a thicket while seeking pheasants or quail.

But of course hair–unlike so many other qualities a gentleman might possess–would be an easy thing to fix; all a wife would need to do was gently suggest the change.

As for the rest–Draycott was tall enough to be impressive, only a couple of inches shorter than Simon. His shoulders were wide, though she wondered if his tailor had to add padding; there had been a suspicious softness about his pale blue coat last night.

“Miss Overton,” Dimity said. “I didn’t see you there in the shadows. What a surprise that you’re down already. I thought perhaps you would enjoy the rare opportunity to lie abed.”

“I enjoy rising early, especially when I can ride.”

“Really?” Prudence said. “We must make certain you have the opportunity to do so, then.”

Doubt dripped from her voice and burned Celia’s skin as if it had been acid.
She sounds as if she expects me to fall off my horse.

“Not this morning, however,” Dimity put in hastily. “There’s little point in riding if the gentlemen don’t come along. Lady Stone suggested that since the hunters will be gone much of the day, we might entertain ourselves with a walk to the village.”

A walk, no matter the destination, was preferable to being shut up inside all day with the Misses Carew. Celia scolded herself for allowing the rude thought to cross her mind.

Just as Celia opened her mouth to agree, Prudence added, “You’ll come, of course? I’m sure you can give us advice about any bargains to be found in the village shops. Cloth and that sort of thing.”

Celia’s tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth.
Does she think I run a loom for my uncle?

“I have the greatest difficulty, myself, in telling one fabric from another,” Prudence went on, “so I generally end up buying the most expensive.”

From the foot of the stairs, Jane said mildly, “I hardly think Miss Overton is personally acquainted with a cloth factory.”

She had descended so quietly Celia hadn’t realized she was there. Apparently the Carew sisters hadn’t either, for Dimity snapped, “I do wish you’d stop sneaking around, Jane!”

“Your pardon. Lady Hester prefers to remain abed this morning, and Lady Imogene has the final fitting for her wedding garb. But if everyone else is ready for our walk…”

Eventually they were, though Celia wondered if the sisters were dawdling in the hope the hunting party might give up their day out and return to the house. When they finally set out across Rockhill’s wide lawns, Celia fell into step with Jane, while the Carew sisters walked a few yards behind, once more discussing the gentlemen of the party.

“I do hope it’s not Lord Lockwood who offers for me,” Dimity said as they turned onto a well-worn footpath. “Just imagine sharing the marriage bed with someone who is so very old.”

“What about Lord Billings?” Celia asked. “He’s quite young.”

Prudence cast a pitying look in her direction. “They call him Lord Bilious, you know.”

Jane nodded. “It’s true he has a very delicate stomach. The cook has been distraught over his requirements for special foods.”

“According to the
ton
,” Prudence said, “he may not live long enough to survive his father. His wife would be left with nothing. No real title, for it would go to the next heir, and no money either.”

“Such a shame that Lord Billings is unwell,” Jane murmured. “Of course, Mr. Montrose is quite good-looking.”

Dimity sighed. “Such a pity he isn’t eligible. But no matter how large the weaver’s fortune, it just won’t do.”

“You astound me,” Celia said.

“Oh, it’s different for you, of course, Miss Overton, because the fact that your money comes from trade can be disguised somewhat by your husband’s standing–assuming of course that some gentleman should offer for you. But for a man to bring the whiff of trade into a marriage…” Dimity shook her head sadly.

So much for Celia’s half-formed plan to keep Simon too busy with his own flirtations to interfere with her efforts. It had seemed such a good idea at breakfast. But if the Carew sisters weren’t likely to take him seriously…

Then perhaps you should give them a reason.

Celia spoke before she could talk herself out of the notion. “It seems foolish to assess a gentleman based only on his current standing, not taking into account his potential as you did with Lord Billings.”

Prudence looked offended. “Of course it would be short-sighted.”

Dimity frowned. “Are you suggesting someone here is in line for a grand inheritance?” Celia could almost see her ticking names off a list. “But all the gentlemen are in full possession of their estates except for Lord Bilious… I mean, Lord Billings.”

An imp seemed to take hold of Celia’s brain. “Perhaps you didn’t realize Mr. Montrose is in line for a title.” Her conscience pinged, but she silenced it. She hadn’t told an untruth… not exactly. As the great-grandson of a viscount, Simon must be in some line of succession. The fact there were probably twenty male uncles and cousins ahead of him in that line by now was immaterial, really.

Prudence sniffed. “If that were the case, Hester wouldn’t be so uninterested.”

“Perhaps she doesn’t know it,” Celia murmured. “It’s something he prefers not to speak of. Oh, here’s the village. Which shop should we visit first, do you think?”

****

When Simon reached the drawing room that evening, he was relieved to find that his partner for dinner was to be Lady Stone’s companion. At least he wouldn’t be subjected to another few hours of scorn from a Carew sister.

So Celia thought he should try courting one or the other of those termangents! Had the minx lost her wits entirely, or had she simply been trying to distract him from her odd fascination with Baron Draycott?

He tried to catch her eye across the room, but she was listening intently to Viscount Billings, who was probably telling her the history of his stomach complaints. Nothing serious could possibly develop there, Simon knew. Though he was not an intimate of Lady Hester’s brother, he knew Billings well enough to understand that the man had far too great an opinion of his status to consider a girl in Celia’s position. Perhaps more to the point, he was too careful of his various ailments to have time to pay romantic attention to a female.

Prudence Carew strolled across the room directly toward Simon. A brilliant smile curved her lips but did not, he noted, quite reach her eyes. “I was so looking forward to getting to know you better.” Her eyelids fluttered at such a rate he thought she must be trying to blink away a painful speck of dust. “In fact, I asked Jane to switch dinner partners with me tonight–but the foolish girl insisted her arrangements could not be upset.” Her voice dropped. “If I might offer a word of advice–Mr. Montrose?”

The instant’s hesitation made him wonder if she’d forgotten his name. “I shall always be eager to receive a lady’s wisdom.”
If she possesses any.

She languidly waved her fan, inviting him to lean closer. “A gentleman cannot be too careful where a female of such questionable background is concerned. A companion, after all… I bring it up only to warn you that Jane’s too-friendly ways may hide an ulterior motive. I think, myself, that she has fixed her eye on you.”

Simon, finding himself speechless, settled for bowing politely.

“But perhaps it is for the best that she refused to be accommodating this evening,” Prudence murmured. “Tomorrow is the ball Lady Stone is hosting for the bridal couple. You will be not only my dinner companion, but you can lead me out in the first dance.” She smiled as though she had presented him with an award and joined Lord Stone just as the dinner gong sounded.

Simon intercepted a bright-eyed look from Celia as she strolled past with her hand on Viscount Billings’ arm. She looked curiously happy–but surely she couldn’t be finding anything in Lord Bilious’s conversation to so thoroughly fascinate her.

Beside Simon, Baron Draycott released a long breath. “Miss Overton is incandescent tonight. Just look at how that glorious hair of hers reflects the light. I can’t help but think how it would look spread out across a pillow in the glow of a branch of candles.”

Simon turned to stare at him. “Perhaps my hearing is at fault, my lord? Because if you really said you’re lusting after my cousin and imagining taking her to your bed, I would find it necessary to defend the lady’s honor.”

Draycott tipped his head back and studied Simon down the length of his aquiline nose.

He’s considering whether I can handle myself in a duel.

The baron opted not to test the point. “No, no–not at all. You must have heard me wrong, Montrose. If you’ll excuse me… Miss Dimity. There you are. We are to be partners tonight, I understand.” He reached for her arm.

She stood firm. “I fear, Mr. Montrose, that I may have been a trifle rude last night at dinner. I was not feeling well then, and I do hope you will accept my apologies.” She dropped a tiny curtsy and let the baron draw her away.