Page 2 of The Spring Promise
When Hunter first arrived, he had tried to warn Celeste off him. He believed he had done so reasonably, without causing offence, but Celeste had laughed at Will’s well-intentioned efforts and called him ‘stuffy’. Abby always said he tended to be old-fashioned, and young women these days did not like to be told what to do.
He had not said anything to Celeste on the matter since. The thought of her seeing him as one of those stern, authoritarian husbands made him shudder. He was determined that his wife would live life at his side as an equal, and would never expect her to obey his every whim. Will needed only to look to his parents for a prime example of how a happy marriage was negotiated.
Not that Celeste would allow him to boss her around anyway. She was not a meek sort of girl.
Molly Lacey wasn’t meek either, but Will had never been concerned that she was going to do something outrageous if he didn’t correct her. She was easy company, comfortable in a way Celeste was not. Like a favourite slipper.
Well, that was a rather unflattering comparison. And why on earth was he suddenly thinking about Molly?
Will dismounted, prepared to put up with Hunter’s company for the sake of Celeste. As he drew near, he could hear laughter from the large conservatory at the side of the house.
Sir Reginald Morton was a keen botanist and the conservatory’s glassed interior was a jungle of greenery, and the scent of exotic blooms was far too heady for Will’s sensitive sinuses. What on earth was wrong with plain old roses and violets? Why did everything in Sir Reginald’s greenhouse have to be a rare treasure from a faraway land? Celeste loved the place, though, so Will pretended to like it, and put up with his subsequent headaches for her sake.
As he fought against the clinging tendrils of an overgrown vine, wondering if it was trying to strangle him, he finally spotted Celeste. She and Hunter were standing near a table set with a pot of tea with cups, and a lump of cake on a tray. Probably that nasty seed cake Hunter liked and which was forever getting caught in Will’s teeth. Last time he ate it, a seed had attached to his front tooth, which he hadn’t discovered until he arrived home. It still made him squirm to think Celeste had seen him in such an embarrassing state. These days he tried to smile without showing his teeth at all.
Hunter looked up. “Ah, Starling.” He always said the name in a way that irritated Will, as if he was thinking of a common bird. There were times when Will wished his family name was St. John or Montgomery or Marchmont, anything but Starling.
Will nodded politely. “Hunter. Miss Morton. I think we can finally say it is spring in Barton Lacey. I noticed some daffodils flowering in the garden at the hall.”
Celeste dimpled at him, looking particularly fetching in a pale blue gown with a matching ribbon gathering up her dark curls. “Mr Starling. Have you seen theAristolochiaHyperborea? Uncle Reggie is very excited to see it in bloom. He is writing to the botanic gardens at Kew to tell them all about it.”
Will looked past her at the specimen—a particularly ugly one, in his opinion—and tried not to roll his eyes. All the same, Hunter seemed to guess his feelings and smirked. “Not to your taste, Starling? I suppose you prefer daisies, eh?”
Will ignored him and spoke to Celeste. “I’m sure the gardeners at Kew will be happy to hear your uncle’s news.” But he sounded awkward and uninspiring, and he wasn’t surprised when Celeste gave a disappointed sigh.
“You know, Mr Starling, you couldtryjust a little harder to show your enthusiasm.” She fussed with the teapot, but her displeasure was obvious.
Hunter cleared his throat. Will expected another dig, but it was worse than that.
“I have an announcement. I have started a small collection of my own. Of course, it is nothing as grand as Sir Reginald’s. He is the master and I am but a disciple.”
Will felt a growl rising up in his chest and struggled to contain it. The man was insufferable. And then he wondered why he hadn’t thought of that. Possibly because outlandish plants were not his strong suit. Now if they were talking about which crops grew best in dry or boggy soil, Will was your man.
Celeste smiled sweetly at them both, peeping up through her long lashes. “I cannot tell you how glad I am I came to stay in Barton Lacey,” she said excitedly. “It is such a shame I have to return home to Shropshire next month.”
Both Will and Hunter stared at her. “Returnhome?” they said at once.
“But of course.” Celeste folded her hands primly. “I cannot stay here forever, now can I? I came to visit because Uncle Reggie has been all alone since my aunt died, and he needed someone to manage his household. But all that is done now—he has employed an excellent housekeeper—so there is no reason for me to stay on. Is there?”
Will blinked. Was she hinting… Was she asking… Did she need aproposalas a reason to stay?
He could see from the determined expression on Hunter’s face that the cad had come to the same conclusion. The two men exchanged a long, challenging look. Will needed to act as soon as possible if he was to cut Hunter out of the race and win Celeste’s hand.
Tea was taken in a subdued atmosphere, despite Celeste’s efforts to enliven the occasion. Afterwards, Celeste informed them she had another engagement to attend. “Mrs. Norris has asked me to discuss the latest fashions with her.”
Mrs. Norris had four sons of marriageable age. Will ground his teeth at the thought of them circling Celeste like hungry wolves, but he had no choice but to leave. At least Hunter had to leave as well.
As Will mounted his mare, he looked at Hunter, doing the same with his gelding. The two men glared at one another.
“You know what this means?” Hunter said testily.
“What does it mean?” Will retorted. “Are you planning to go to war with me?”
Hunter snorted. “I was going to say, ‘May the best man win,’ but I think it a foregone conclusion,Starling.”
And what didthatmean? Will wanted to make some furious riposte, but Hunter had already set off down the driveway at a canter, which turned into a gallop once he reached the road.
Will rode home more slowly, deep in thought. He needed help. He was floundering when it came to wooing Celeste. For every smile he won from her when she was pleased with him, there was a frown for his failure to agree to one of her many ‘capital notions’. Hunter, however, never seemed to misstep. And now whatever time he did have to show her he was the best choice of husband was almost gone. Hunter would be busy trying to lure her away with his London wiles, and Will’s country upbringing could not compete with that, title or no. He needed someone to help gain him the advantage.
