Page 58 of The Trouble with True Love

He met her gaze. “Word is starting to get ’round that you’ve caught my eye. That, I’m sure, is reinforcing his belief that I was indiscreet.”

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry you’re on the outs with your friend over my actions, and perhaps it was wrong of me to interfere, but his courtship—if one can call it that—was not aboveboard, so I can’t find it in my heart to regret that Lady Throckmorton ended their amour because of what I wrote. And I still think it was very wrong of you to advise him as you did.”

“I did it in the hope of giving them both more time together so they could decide how they truly felt about one another.”

“You did it to help him avoid the dreaded state of matrimony.”

“Not true. Be fair, Clara, if you please, and recall precisely what I said. I first told him he ought to break it off, since he wasn’t sure he wanted to marry her, but when he expressed reluctance to do that, I gave him another option.”

“A morally questionable one.”

“But a better one than having to part irrevocably, in my opinion. And far, far better than to marry in haste and repent at leisure.”

“I don’t know.” She paused, considering. “There could have been serious consequences, you know, to what they were doing. For her, particularly.”

“You mean a child, I assume?”

“That, yes, but if they were caught, there would have been disgrace, ruin, and shame for her, child or no.”

“Lionel would stand up, do the right thing, if any of that were to happen.”

“You seem sure of that.”

“I am sure. I’ve known Lionel since school days. He’s an honorable man. Despite,” he added as she raised a skeptical eyebrow, “what you might think.”

“Then I don’t see why he can’t court Lady Throckmorton in an honorable fashion, especially now that he knows marriage is her expectation.”

“Once two people take the step Lionel and Dina have, they’ve rather crossed the Rubicon.” As he spoke, he wondered if his words were in defense of his friend or a reminder to himself. “Chaperoned walks and a stolen kiss or two behind the hedgerows might seem a bit tame to them now.”

“Or it might have the opposite effect. It might serve to increase their anticipation by suspense.”

“It might.” Irresistibly drawn, he looked at her mouth, then wondered why he was torturing himself. “At least until the poor chap hurls himself off a bridge,” he muttered, leaning back again in his chair.

Desperate for a new distraction, he looked away, and was heartily glad to see Lord James St. Clair walking toward them. “St. Clair,” he greeted. “God, man, you look like the devil.”

“No doubt,” the other man agreed as he sank down, breathless and disheveled, beside their chairs, then fell back into the grass. Rolling his head, he looked at the girl beside him. “Why didn’t I bring Nanny, Clara? Remind me.”

“Because it’s her day out.” She looked him over, then she laughed. “Galbraith’s right. The boys seem to have worn you to a nub already.”

“They have, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. William’s with them now, but if that continues too long, the poor fellow’s likely to resign. If Torquil comes back to find we’ve lost our first footman, he’ll be fit to be tied.”

Rex moved to rise. “I can send a footman to fetch your nanny, if she’s at Torquil House.”

“That’s all right,” Clara said, standing up, bringing Rex fully to his feet and impelling St. Clair to rise as well. “Let Nanny have her day out. She’s earned it. I’m happy to take the boys for a bit.” She glanced at Rex, then back again. “If you will both excuse me?”

Rex bowed. “Of course.”

“You’re a brick, Clara,” St. Clair called after her as she crossed the turf toward the twins and the poor footman who was trying valiantly to assist them in launching their kites.

“Your footman deserves a tip,” Rex said, turning to the other man. “Helping you look after those boys of yours today.”

“He’ll have a large one, I assure you. But if you’ll pardon me, Galbraith, I must take advantage of this heaven-sent opportunity and help myself to some of the sandwiches while I have the chance. Join me?”

Rex shook his head. “Thank you, no. I’ll eat later.”

With a nod, St. Clair moved off, headed for the marquee where refreshments had been laid out. He’d barely departed, however, before Rex was joined again, this time by Hetty, who was carrying two flutes of champagne.

“Here,” she said, offering him one. “I noticed your glass was empty.”

---