Page 75 of Bound By her Earl

“Right,” she said shortly. “Well, Amanda, you do realize that is the whole purpose of this?” She waved a hand at the swirling ball behind her.

Amanda’s pout intensified.

“But she reallylikeshim!” Amanda made this, too, sound like a hideous fate.

He struggled not to smile as Emily practically twitched, clearly desperate to demand details.

“Again,” she said, measured, “you do recognize that this is positive, yes?”

Amanda crossed her arms sourly, and Benedict quickly sought out several of his most irritating Parliamentary opponents to stop himself from laughing.

“I suppose,” Amanda said with extreme reluctance. Then, in a much smaller voice, she added, “But what if Rosie leaves, too?”

“Oh, darling.” Emily’s sigh was laden with love as she stepped forward to hook arms with her sister. “Even if she does marry this suitor of hers, Rosie won’t be leaving you. And I haven’t left you, either.” She squeezed the younger girl closer. “I’m right here. And even if Rose decamps to live in—oh, I don’t know—the hinterlands of Scotland, we shall visit and write and love her perfectly well from afar.”

As if she were much younger than her actual years, Amanda leaned over and laid her head on Emily’s shoulder briefly.

“I know,” she said, sounding more accepting this time around. “I just wanted you both with me to do all the fun things of being out. Dancing, flirting, that sort of thing. Now, you’re marriedalready, and Rosie is just such a sweetheart that no doubt she’ll be snapped up next, and then I’ll have to have fun all on my own—which is no fun at all, really.”

When Benedict glanced back towards the sisters, he saw Emily looking straight at him, mirth in her gaze. It was nice, he decided, being the one she looked to when sharing a private joke.

“Well, my dear girl, Iamthree and twenty,” Emily reminded Amanda. “I’m not sure you can call it ‘already’ when I was half on the shelf.”

“No, you weren’t,” objected Benedict and Amanda in unison. This time, it was the younger sister who shot him an amused, conspiratorial glance, and he found he liked that, too. Who knew that family could be a boon rather than merely a millstone around one’s neck?

“And,” Emily went on as if they hadn’t spoken, “neither Rose nor I was ever going to go in much for flirting.”

Thank the saints and all the martyrs, Benedict thought pleasantly, feeling smugly superior to all the idiot men that had been stupid enough to overlook his Emily.

“No, I guess not,” Amanda agreed, lifting her head until she stood upright again. “The two of you are dreadfully boring in that way.”

“Thanks ever so,” Emily said dryly.

“And it’s not as though Rose would disappear.” Now it was Amanda’s turn to act like her sister hadn’t spoken. To an only son like Benedict, it was like a trip to the menagerie, watching how the siblings had, over their lives, affected one another. “The gentleman is a Londoner, I believe. A Mr. Lionel Cartwright?”

“Oh,” Benedict said, surprised to find himself with something to contribute. “I know him. Fine fellow. A bit on the old side for Rose—thirty, perhaps? But shy and retiring more than anything else, not the kind of man who has spent his bachelor years gadding about.”

“Yes,” Emily agreed thoughtfully. “I have danced with him several times over the years. He’d make a good fit for Rose as far as I know.”

Benedict retracted his compliments. Cartwright was a louse who should have kept his grubby fingers far away from Benedict’s wife. Any logic that might have suggested that Emily had not been his wife at the time declined to make itself known.

“They did have quite a lot to say to one another about books,” Amanda said without enthusiasm. Then she perked up. “Although, if Rosie marries him, then she probably won’t makemetalk about books quite so much anymore.”

Emily lost her battle with laughter. “Yes, as you see, there’s a silver lining to all things.”

Amanda nodded smartly, clearly satisfied with this turn of events.

Even with his limited knowledge of the younger woman, Benedict might have expected her to flit off at this point. Amanda was not so much unkind as easily distractable; she was always seeking something new and engaging for her clearly clever mind to turn over and over. Instead, however, she took a half step sideways, so she was pressed more closely against Emily.

“We miss you at home, Emmy,” she said quietly. Benedict turned his gaze to look out over the room, offering the sisters a modicum of privacy. “I know I’ve complained dreadfully over the years about how you hovered over us, but, well…I suppose now that it’s gone, I miss it just a bit.”

“Oh, sweet—” Emily began, but Amanda gently interrupted her.

“Shush, Emmy, let me finish. I am being terribly mature; don’t ruin it.” Emily chuckled quietly. “As I was saying, it’s much less fun without you home, and though I’m dreadfully happy for you and all that other guff, I miss you lots. You were the best mother I could have asked for. And I forgive you for all the times you were even more boring than you needed to be.”

When it was clear Amanda was finished, Emily pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you, my darling girl. I love you very much, you know.”

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