“But I am looking forward to seeing her,” Valeria said with a mischievous smile. “Whether or not I shall bring her to London—we shall see.”
“I am evermore certain that Teresa would benefit greatly from such influence. Perhaps, Beatrice could bring her out of her shell. Prudence, however…” Isolde chuckled. “Maybe it would be wiser to keep Prudence and Beatrice away from each other, or society itself may be burned to the ground!”
Amelia relaxed into a smile of her own. “Rebecca, too. She is… somewhat rebellious and needs no further encouragement. She is already destined to beexactlylike her grandmother.”
The three ladies settled into less fraught chatter, discussing the beauty of the Westyork gardens, the repair of Davenport Towers’ northern wing, before dipping here and there into nostalgia.
They spoke of balls they had attended together, and how Valeria used to have to prize Amelia away from the wall, where she preferred to hide and read. They spoke of Isolde and her sisters, and how they liked to torment their only brother, Vincent, often driving him to despair.
“Has he not yet found a bride?” Valeria asked, considering possibilities.
Isolde laughed wildly. “Goodness, no! The poor boy would not know where to begin with flirtation, and he is far too busy being an earl and a fatherly figure to even glance at a woman with any intent.”
Perhaps the duke could share some of his flirting with Vincent.Valeria smirked, certain that Duncan could survive without a portion of his ‘charms.’ It would certainly make her encounterswith him easier if he got rid of some of his flirtatious habits, so she would not have to roll her eyes so much.
“Once he has Prudence and Teresa married, I suspect he will start to search for a countess, will he not?” Amelia prompted.
Isolde shrugged. “One can hope. Of course, his lack of interest has not stopped our mother from harassing him about it. The girls have a wager—how many minutes it takes during breakfast for her to mention it. The quickest thus far has been thirty-six seconds. Vincent had not even sat down.”
The ladies laughed, but Valeria was not as amused as her friends.
Itwouldbe a simple option. Vincent is wealthy, he is well-connected, he is known to me already, and he would be kind to me.Moreover, it would make Valeria a true member of Isolde’s family. But the more she thought about it, the more the notion made her feel queasy. She knew Vincent Wildstoowell, and there was something about marrying a friend’s brother that was decidedly unpleasant. Weird.
Just then, Lionel appeared in the drawing room doorway, with Daniel half asleep on his shoulders.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said with a fond smile at his wife, Amelia. “Prudence and Rebecca are complaining that we will be late to the theater, and I suspect Teresa has the same worry, though she is not saying so. I should hate to rush you, but I think we must leave soon.”
Isolde jumped up. “Where is Joseph?”
“Asleep on the grass,” Lionel replied. “These boys have exhausted one another… and their fathers, too.”
His laughter made Amelia’s face light up, a privilege to behold. Valeria observed them with a smile, wondering if her hurried marriage would ever be anything like theirs. Or like that of Isolde and Edmund, who were so besotted with one another that it was like staring into the sun when they were together.
“Go on,” Valeria urged, finishing off her cup of tea. “I will not forgive myself if you are delayed because I have kept you too long. The young ones must have their theater, while this old maid has herbs to pick.”
Lionel smiled. “You will join us in London?”
“I am considering it,” Valeria replied, so grateful that both of her best friends had found such rare love; she could not have relinquished them to marriage for anything less.
Within a matter of ten minutes, Valeria was standing out on the bottom step of the wisteria-draped porch, raising her hand in a wave as her friends all departed. They were in three carriages—the Duke and Duchess of Davenport in one, with their son; the Earl and Countess of Westyork in the second, withtheirson; and the girls in the third, their shrieks of giddiness drifting out into the spring air.
“Will you calm yourselves!” Teresa’s voice cut through, bringing a smile to Valeria’s lips. In many ways, they reminded Valeria of her friendship with Amelia and Isolde.
They will certainly have their hands full in the city.
Waving to them until the retinue had turned out of the gates, vanishing behind a tall hedge of boxwood, Valeria stayed on the porch a while longer. She inhaled the warm, fresh air and gazed at her lovely part of the world, praying that she had it within her means to save it all.
She was about to turn, when the thud of hoofbeats caught her attention. Whipping back around, she raised her hand to her brow to block out the sunlight, squinting toward the rider that raced down the driveway toward her.
Is it him?Her heart jumped a little, an echo of how it had thundered the other day, when Duncan had moved too close to her; how it had hammered against her ribs when he had asked if he could just kiss her instead of being her matchmaker. It had been out of anger at his impertinence, of course, or annoyance and embarrassment that he thought she could be charmed by his transparent antics.
The black feather was still in the vase of lavender, untouched: a solid reminder that she had not imagined his appearance in her home.
“Miss Maxwell?” The rider brought his mount to a halt, revealing himself to be a simple messenger.
She relaxed, taking a breath. “Yes, that is me.”
“A letter for you.” He dipped into this bag and handed it over, tipping his hat to her before he urged his horse back into a gallop, kicking up dust as he went.
