“No, no, of course not,” Miss Jenyns mumbled as she dabbed a crumb from her lips.
Mrs. Webster looked doubtful but held her remarks.
“And when I saw him ...” Cecilia began, trying not to laugh as all four ladies leaned toward her, “I felt that all my father’s praise of his kindness and honor showed right there on his face.”
“Is he a handsome rascal?” Lady Stafford asked.
“Some would think so.”
“Including me!” Penelope almost squealed, and the other ladies chuckled.
Before Cecilia could continue, she caught sight of Lord Blackthorne through the open terrace doors, approaching the drawing room. His coat flapped open in the breeze, and his hair was unruly. Perhaps he only just realized that she had guests, for when their eyes met, he gave her a nod and backed away. But she wasn’t certain he actually left the terrace.
“But,” Cecilia said, before anyone could speak, “our marriage was by proxy, and my lawyers wish to ascertain the validity.”
“So he agreed to your reluctance,” Lady Stafford said, eyeing Cecilia with closer interest. “And?”
“He is a soldier and a gentleman,” Cecilia said simply. “This affects both of our lives, and we want to make certain everything is legal.” Then she wanted to wince, and Penelope actually did. It almost sounded like Cecilia was afraid he was after her money. But she could hardly protest that he’d done the exact opposite, requesting nothing. If only that didn’t seem so suspicious, now that she’d actually met him, a young man in the prime of his life, not an elderly grandfather.
“A soldier,” Lady Stafford mused, exchanging a look with Mrs. Webster, who looked through her lorgnette at Cecilia as if she were a bug. “We cannot help being curious. It has been a long time since someone mentioned the Blackthorne viscountcy.”
“He doesn’t come to London,” Mrs. Webster explained. “He’s never attended a Season although his father used to, quite frequently, until he landed Lady Blackthorne.”
“ ‘Landed’?” Cecilia said. “That is not very complimentary.”
Mrs. Webster sighed. “I did not want to be the one to tell you—especially since I assumed your marriage was legal, and it was too late. But if there’s a chance that your lawyers say that you would have to wed here in England, you might want to think carefully.”
Cecilia spoke coolly. “What are you saying?”
“Only that his father was a fortune hunter, and it was much whispered that his mother wasveryunhappy in the marriage.”
“That can be said for many Society marriages,” Cecilia said sternly. “My father had nothing but the highest praise for him. Only an honorable man would feel that he wanted to enlist and learn to be a soldier before becoming an officer.”
If Lord Blackthorne was eavesdropping on this, she could only imagine what he’d think of her staunch defense—or what kind of ideas it would give him.
“Then it’s true, he didn’t purchase a commission?” Lady Stafford asked, eyebrows rising. “I can see the family’s financial difficulties have continued.”
Cecilia never condoned gossip and refused to be drawn into intrigue. “Upon meeting him, you will see that he is a decent man, a soldier injured in service of the queen.”
“We would very much like to meet him,” Mrs. Webster said.
Cecilia stood up. “Then I shall make it happen. Enjoy the cakes, dear ladies, and I’ll return in a moment.”
She strode across the drawing room to the open French doors and went outside, where the autumn sun still shone down with startling warmth. She shielded her eyes, looking across the gardens, wondering if Lord Blackthorne was still exercising his leg, or if he’d already gone to meet Oliver.
“Looking for me?”
She turned her head upon hearing his deep voice and found him right beside the doors, leaning against the rough stone wall of the castle, the shadows almost obscuring his dark garments and hair. She pretended to walk slowly along the terrace, as if still looking for him.
But the moment she was out of sight of the drawing room, she quickly closed the gap between them and leaned up into his face with rare indignation. “You wereeavesdropping.”
“We would call it spying in the army,” he said dryly. “It has its place.”
“But on a ladies’ tea?” She threw her arms wide in outrage.
He looked down her body. “I did not know you could be so dramatic. I like it.”
She resisted the urge to fold her arms over her chest. “Please answer me.”
