The Wedding Season (13 page)

P
hilip resisted the urge to tug at his cravat or shift in his chair. But he did cast a wary eye at the family seated around the long oak table. During the entire time the captain’s valet had shaved him and freshened his clothing, Philip had tried to discern exactly how much influence Moberly might possess. He appeared to have a comfortable relationship with Bennington, but he’d also deferred to his elder brother, the bride’s father, in their brief conversation at the church. Should the earl set his mind against Philip…but he wouldn’t think of that. Lord willing, justice would prevail against Whitson.

As Philip had descended the staircase, he’d heard the musical laughter of Miss Elizabeth and Miss Prudence coming from the morning room. Now seated across the table from the young ladies, however, he sensed a reluctance on the part of Miss Elizabeth to engage in conversation. He shouldn’t expect anything more, should turn his attention to the more amiable Miss Prudence, who joined Captain and Mrs. Moberly in extending the kindest hospitality to him in conversation. But he was forced to admit it was the reticent young lady who stirred his interest.

“And so, Mr. Lindsey,” Captain Moberly said, “you trust your younger brother to attend to matters at home? How old is this lad?”

“Yes, sir, I do trust him.” Philip recalled with a smile Charles’s intense concentration as he’d listened to his parting instructions. “He’s eighteen but quite competent.”

The captain nodded his understanding. “I have commanded midshipmen of eighteen who could master their responsibilities capably.”

This bit of comradeship boosted Philip’s confidence in Moberly. While he couldn’t grasp why the man would befriend him, he’d accept this as a gift from the Lord. Cautiously accept it. Perhaps the captain was merely keeping an eye on him until the matter was settled.

The atmosphere of this sunny room bolstered his spirits, as did the aromatic coffee and delicious breakfast fare. Recalling the proverb that warned against gluttony in the presence of a king, Philip didn’t surrender to his ravenous appetite but slowly ate his tasty sausage and eggs.

“Tell us more about your sister, Mr. Lindsey.” Mrs. Moberly’s placid smile seemed at odds with her probing gaze.

Philip swallowed a bite and sipped his coffee, stalling to keep himself from blurting out that Lucy didn’t deserve the ill treatment Whitson had shown her. That she deserved a true-hearted man. That if Philip were not a Christian, he’d call the man out, no matter the laws against dueling, an option he still might consider. But he wouldn’t confess it here. Mrs. Moberly was not at fault for Whitson’s treachery, and Philip wouldn’t unleash his anger or threats upon her.

“My sister is a gentle girl, ma’am.” Unexpected emotion
rose in his throat, and he downed another gulp of coffee. “Too trusting, I fear.” Knowing he must stop before he said too much, Philip glanced around the table.

The eyes of each lady held sympathy and glistened with a hint of tears. Captain Moberly glowered. For a moment Philip feared he’d angered the man.

“It’s insupportable.” The captain fisted one hand on the table. “I will not rest until…” He pursed his lips. “This afternoon Bennington will send to London for his solicitors. If you wish to engage your own man, now is the time.” One eyebrow rose. “I would not embarrass you, sir, but if you require assistance—”

“Ah. No, but I thank you, sir.” Philip withheld a laugh. “I can manage.” No sense in telling the man how far off the mark that offer was. “I’d be most grateful if you would pray for my sister and myself.”

Now the captain’s eyebrows arched. In the corner of his eye, Philip noticed a movement across the table and turned to see Miss Prudence give Miss Elizabeth a playful grin.

“Yes, of course.” Moberly sent him a sober nod. “That goes without saying.”

“Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Moberly said.

Miss Prudence nudged her cousin.

Philip couldn’t quite gauge the expression on Miss Elizabeth’s face. The slight smile on her perfectly formed lips indicated her approval, and the appearance of her dimple sent a pleasant tickle through his chest. But those lovely blue eyes held…puzzlement? A hint of sorrow?

What on earth could be distressing this lovely young lady? Protectiveness surged up in his chest, and he longed to help her. Perhaps in these next few days before the solicitors arrived, he could befriend her and discover the cause of her
unhappiness. With the house full of people and countless chaperones available, surely no one would consider the gesture improper.

Elizabeth’s heart sank even as her esteem for Mr. Lindsey rose. She must, must, must not be attracted to this man, this truly remarkable man. She could see the pain written across his face for his sister and his determination to set things to right, just as Elizabeth’s father and brothers would should she be treated so shabbily. But his request for prayer, something she never heard outside her immediate family, firmly established Mr. Lindsey’s character in her mind. And Pru’s teasing grin did not help Elizabeth’s attempts to stave off her soaring admiration for the gentleman.

Even now, his kindly gaze in her direction stirred her feelings and sent warmth up her neck into her cheeks. She surrendered to a smile but could think of nothing to say.

The morning room’s side door swung open, and Elizabeth’s brother James strode in and walked directly to the buffet. “I say—” He popped a bite of sausage into his mouth before filling his plate. “—what a morning. That fellow who stopped the wedding certainly provided a smashing bit of entertainment. Poor Sophie wept all the way home. Nobody said a word at Auntie Bennington’s breakfast and—”

“Ahem.” Papa’s voice boomed across the room, accompanied by Mama’s “James!”

“Jamie!” Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed with mortification for Mr. Lindsey.

“What?” Jamie turned around, and his eyes settled on Mr. Lindsey, whose face had reddened beneath its sun-browned surface. “Oh.” Jamie’s boyish grimace resembled that of a child caught stealing a cake. Then he shrugged. “Sorry, old man.” He walked around the table and put his plate down
at the setting beside Mr. Lindsey’s, then reached out to him. “Do forgive.”

Mr. Lindsey stood and shook his hand, the picture of graciousness. “No harm done.” His wry grin added to his charm. “Philip Lindsey.”

“James Moberly. Jamie, to my friends.” He tilted his head toward Papa and grinned. “A bother to the captain.”

“Sit down, boy,” Papa said, “or you’ll be swabbing the deck for the next forty years.”

Jamie gave him a mock salute, sat down and dug into his breakfast.

The family banter must have soothed whatever offense Jamie caused, for Mr. Lindsey relaxed back into his chair.

To Elizabeth’s relief, Jamie and Papa engaged their guest in discussions of horses and fencing and their tailors, relieving her of any obligation to join the conversation. Which, of course, gave her the opportunity to further observe the man. But much to her chagrin, she could not find one fault in his speech or deportment or opinions. And it did not help her cause to see Mama watching the gentleman with rapt attention, that sly smile etched across her lips which Elizabeth had not seen since her older sister met the man who was now her fiancé.

“S
ome say one horse is as good as another.” Jamie Moberly waved his fork in the air for emphasis before shoving a bite of egg into his mouth. “But I’ve got a gallant colt I want to run in the derby.” He glanced at his father.

“We’ll see.” The twinkle in the captain’s eyes even as his dark eyebrows bent into a frown caused Philip to long for the days when his own father had gently prodded him toward manhood.

“I say, Lindsey.” Jamie nudged Philip. “How about a ride? We can take the girls and go out to the Roman ruins. What do you say?”

Philip had spent the last few days riding hard to get here, and the last thing he wanted was to get back on a horse. But both young ladies voiced their agreement, and all eyes fell on him. Once again, he felt this family’s warmth reaching out to include him.

“Sounds like just the thing.” He could hardly reject an opportunity to spend more time with Miss Elizabeth.

“I’ll tell Cook to prepare a picnic.” Mrs. Moberly seemed oddly eager about the event, for she smiled most charmingly
at Philip. “You can go ahead and take your ride, and I’ll send the basket out to the ruins in the early afternoon.”

With all in accord, they had only to dress for the outing. While the ladies scurried away to don their riding dresses, Jamie offered Philip his older, taller brother’s clothes. Never one for fashion, Philip generally left all to his valet. But until Wilkes arrived in a day or two, he must make do with the generosity of his hosts for fresh clothing.

The cutaway black coat fit him well, but the buckskin breeches felt rather snug, indicating they’d been recently purchased. Philip hoped Jamie was right when he said his brother Richard wouldn’t mind his wearing them, for leather clothes once stretched couldn’t be shrunk without being ruined.

Properly dressed, the party met outside the front door. Miss Elizabeth made a pretty picture in her rose wool habit adorned with gold and black embroidery. Her matching beaver hat, perched atop her shiny golden curls, sported a small spray of black feathers held fast by a gold broach with a pink tourmaline at its center.

Miss Prudence wore a similar habit of moss green, but it was a bit frayed at the edges. Philip surmised she was a poorer relation, yet her cousins’ courtesy toward her gave no hint of a lower status. Such behavior elevated them all in Philip’s estimation. This truly was an extraordinary family. Although he couldn’t entirely let down his defenses, his earlier wariness was slipping away as he spent more time with this merry little band.

Two grooms brought around four excellent beasts that seemed as ready for an excursion as their riders. They nickered and pranced around as if impatient to begin.

“Jamie, will you help me?” Miss Prudence beckoned to her cousin.

“Of course.” He proceeded to lift her into the saddle.

With the grooms busy steadying the horses, Philip realized where his duty lay.

“May I assist you, Miss Elizabeth?”

She appeared somewhat startled, and her cheeks took on a pink shade that matched her dress. “Why, yes. I thank you, sir.”

The instant Philip gripped her waist and lifted her, the scent of her rose perfume reached his nose, and his pulse quickened. The two of them easily managed the maneuver, like a well-executed dance they’d performed together a hundred times before.

Seated upon her sidesaddle, she looped one leg over the pommel and gripped the reins with tanned gloves. Taking her left black half boot in hand, Philip settled her foot in its stirrup. A mild shock bolted up his arm at the contact, and he quickly withdrew his hand, appalled at his own reaction. Yes, the lady was attractive, but this was not the time to notice such things, not when Lucy’s case remained unsettled.

“I thank you,” she repeated, this time rather breathlessly, and gave him a nod to confirm she was seated comfortably. Indeed, the lady presented the very image of an accomplished rider.

His admiration for her growing, Philip forced his gaze away from the vision before he made a ninny of himself.

As Elizabeth guided Juno along the woodland path, she felt Mr. Lindsey’s gaze on her. A quick glance behind her confirmed it, and warmth crept into her cheeks. This simply would not do. Should he continue to show such interest and good manners, her resolve might weaken.

When he’d helped her onto the horse, his grip on her waist
had been all that was proper, yet her spine had tingled pleasantly. Even now, the echo of that sensation skittered across her shoulders. If only she could find something else to focus on. The familiar landscape provided just the answer.

Sunlight filtered through the trees and sparkled on the remaining drops of last night’s rain still clinging to shadowed leaves. The narrow stream beside the path rushed over rocks and branches, whispering its secrets to the passersby. The breeze carried the fragrance of rich soil and growing things from the field beyond the woods, mingling with the smell of horseflesh and leather, a perfume to Elizabeth.

When Jamie had suggested this excursion, her love of riding had betrayed her resolution to avoid Mr. Lindsey. Elizabeth found nothing quite so diverting as wandering the countryside on horseback in the summer—not even dancing. If she loved anything as much as riding, it was exploring Roman ruins, even the familiar ones on Bennington lands, for the workers there continued to excavate and find more artifacts. She’d heard of Roman sites in Gloucestershire, large settlements and buildings left by those ancient conquerors of Britain. What a delight it would be to see them. Surely Mr. Lindsey knew all about them. She was certain he would be an excellent guide.

Oh, my. There I go again.

If a true distraction did not come across her path soon, the gentleman might take up residence in the part of her brainbox that engendered attraction. Oh, how she must guard her heart against this man’s charms, his
unconscious
charms. For surely he had done nothing overt to draw her interest.

She glanced back and saw Mr. Lindsey leaning over to speak to Pru, who rode beside him. They both laughed. An odd twinge tickled Elizabeth’s insides, but she dismissed it. Pru was thoroughly smitten with another worthy gentleman,
one who had no objections to her small dowry. One whom Elizabeth longed to prompt to begin his suit before someone else snatched her beloved cousin away.

She dismissed her matchmaking thoughts, for ahead lay their destination and her favorite view of the countryside.

“Ah, here we are.” Jamie, riding at the front, waved his crop toward the upcoming clearing. “Looks like someone else had the same idea.”

As they rode out into the opening, Elizabeth stifled a gasp but not because of the view. There on the stone remnants of a Roman wall sat Di with two young gentlemen. Beyond them, under a canopy, three servants tended a long table laden with picnic fare.

A quick perusal of the area revealed that Sophie and Mr. Whitson were not among those present, and Elizabeth relaxed. She recognized one gentlemen as Di’s cousin on her mother’s side. Although it had been some years since she had seen Lord Chiselton, she could not be more pleased. He was exactly what she needed to take her mind off Mr. Lindsey. At ten, she had vowed to marry the viscount, who was five years her senior and possessed the title in his own right. It was not too late to revive her girlish dream.

“Beth! Pru! James!” Di stood and waved. “Do join us.”

Mr. Lindsey drew his horse up between Jamie and Elizabeth. “Perhaps I should return to Devon Hall.” His frown conveyed regret but no hostility.

“Nonsense.” Jamie dismounted and surrendered his reins to a groom who had come to the site with the other servants. “No one here will be offended by your presence.” He chuckled. “I think they’d rather like to meet someone bold enough to interrupt a Bennington wedding.”

Mr. Lindsey grimaced in a rueful fashion, and Elizabeth reached out to touch his arm. “Do stay, Mr. Lindsey.” Once
again she betrayed herself, but more to cover for Jamie’s brashness than because she truly wanted Mr. Lindsey here. Well, she did not wish him to leave, but—

Oh, do be quiet,
she ordered her silly heart.

“I thank you, Miss Elizabeth. This outing is indeed helpful in keeping my mind occupied.” He dismounted and came around her horse to help her down.

Once again, his warm, strong hands on her waist sent a pleasant chill up her back. The ease with which he lifted her down brought forth an unplanned sigh. To cover it, she coughed.

“Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?” His eyebrows dipped into a frown, enhancing his appealing features. An agreeable warmth filled her cheeks.

“I am well, thank you.”

No, I am anything but well.

With all the determination she could muster, she turned away from him and strode toward Lord Chiselton.