Page 81 of A Duke for Adela
Adela set down her glass of wine after taking a sip. “No, Papa. We have already made arrangements at the Blue Rose Inn, a lovely inn overlooking Lyme Bay. His Grace and I would prefer to have our privacy.”
“Ah, well. You will look in on us, won’t you?”
“Yes, Papa. Just set aside whatever it is that needs attention and I shall take care of it during our visit.”
“You ought to do it before you get caught up with your caves,” he said, taking another bite of mutton. “Everything has become such a muddle since you left. I think we shall have to hire a bookkeeper to replace you.”
“That is a good idea,” Adela said, but Ambrose sensed she was hurt by the possibility she could be so easily replaced in their heart by a bookkeeper.
He was not going to stew about it or pass a remark since Adela seemed to be handling her parents quite well and did not need him to make something more out of a situation that was never going to change.
As for him, he would do his best never to take her for granted.
He would tell her that he loved her, and silently chided himself for failing to do it sooner. Was he not holding her at a distance, just as her parents were? And for what? Because he thought he might lose the upper hand if she realized how much he truly cared for her?
The discussion returned to their honeymoon plans and the cave explorations.
“I have never liked caves,” her mother said with a wistful air. “My life’s work is birds. We have so many of them around the countryside near our home. Warblers, terns, snipes, crakes, chuffs, godwits, geese. Some nest with us year round while others migrate and then return. We happen to have some blue tits nesting in the woodlands near our home this year that merit avid study. I do enjoy watching them. They are so pert and bouncy.”
Julius grinned wickedly. “I love pert and bouncy–ow!”
Eloise, who was seated beside him, poked him in the ribs. “Behave yourself. I thought you were the sensible one.”
He rubbed his ribs. “What did you think I was going to say?”
Eloise harrumphed. “It does not bear mentioning.”
Octavian laughed and choked on his wine.
Ambrose glanced at Julius who was grinning back at him.
Oh, lord.
Julius was in his cups.
Perhaps they all were, but who could blame them after the week they’d had? It was a little too exciting for their tastes, and they were getting reckless while in the company of ladies, even though Adela and her friends were bluestockings and had no delicate sensibilities to speak of.
“Have you documented their migrations? Or studied their nesting habits?” Gory asked, apparently fascinated by the topic of blue tits and completely unaware of the turmoil this completely innocent conversation had created in the Thorne men.
Despite all their accomplishments, they were still crass, little boys at heart.
Julius maintained that grin on his face while he listened to Gory ask her questions.
“I am afraid my notes are quite scattered,” Adela’s mother continued, “and must be put in some logical order before I can present them to our local ornithological society. I was hoping Adela would forget her caves and help me out.” She shrugged. “But she always was her father’s daughter and never really cared for my birds.”
“Mama, that is not so. We spent many summers exploring their nesting sites.”
“Only when your father was not taking you off to the caves.” She waved her hand as though to wave off Adela’s supposed slight throughout the years. “One can never reclaim the past, but we must ever look forward. We knew it was time for Adela to find herself a husband, so we kicked our little bird out of the nest and watched as she flew away.”
“I’d say she did all right for herself,” her father said with a chuckle. “A duke for Adela. Whoever would have thought it? Certainly not I or her mother. But we would have made a pretty penny had we wagered on her landing one. What do you think the odds would have been on that? A hundred to one, I should think.”
“Oh, dear heaven,” Adela whispered, taking another sip of her wine.
“Ambrose is quite enamored of her,” Julius assured them.
Her father appeared startled. “Is that so? I thought it was some nonsense about her being compromised.”
“Papa! I was not compromised. Do not believe anything you read in The Tattler.”
