Page 130 of The Duelist for the Ton
“I-I think perhaps I might call on Foxton,” Stephen said, trying to keep his voice even. “Do you happen to know if Lady Portia is in Town also?”
Lady Staines frowned and tilted her head to one side, fixing her clear blue gaze on him, her eyes a little paler than the rich sapphire eyes of another.
“I believe she’s been on vacation in the Lakes.”
“Are you sure, my love?” Lord Staines said. “I thought it was Derbyshire.”
“She wrote to Mimi—forgive me, Duchess Sawbridge, I should say—before Michaelmas, though her note was a little brief. I daresay she’s returned to Forthridge by now. I was disappointed not to hear from her myself. I wanted to ask her opinion on our holding an archery competition at Radham Hall this summer.”
“You must write to her,” Lord Staines said.
“I will, but you must remind me, my love. I find I’m somewhat forgetful of late.”
“Well, that’s to be expected, given that—” He broke off, a flush of pleasure on his cheeks.
“I’m afraid I’ve told Colonel Reid our news,” she said. “But I can trust him to be discreet, can I not, colonel?”
“Of course you can,” Stephen said, offering his hand to Lord Staines. “Permit me to be the first to congratulate you on your forthcoming arrival.”
Lord Staines grinned and took the proffered hand. “Our third child,” he said, his smile broadening. “I am the most fortunate of men. When your turn comes, I trust you’ll realize yourgood fortune, and I’ll take much pleasure in offering you my congratulations in turn.”
He bowed and clicked his heels together, then he released Stephen’s hand and caught his wife’s arm.
“Now, my love, it’s time to return so you can take your rest. With luck, Mrs. Bragg will have baked those ginger biscuits you love so much.” He winked at Stephen. “My Juliette cannot get enough of them. When she was expecting our second child, she ate a whole batch.”
“Andrew!” Lady Staines swatted her husband over the arm, and he grinned. Then he dipped his head and snatched a swift kiss, and Stephen’s heart gave a little jolt at the expression of love they shared.
Laughing, they took their leave, and Stephen stood alone in the center of the path, watching them make their way to the park gates—a man and woman very much in love, with their beloved child walking by their side.
When your turn comes…
As soon as they were out of sight, Stephen turned and released the tide that had been swelling in his mind.
What if my turn has already come?
Could it be true?
Surely if it were, she’d have written, or Foxton would have come raging, pistol in hand, demanding honor be met?
Or perhaps they thought him of too little consequence to seek retribution or revenge.
Perhaps he did not matter enough.
Chapter Thirty
Stephen turned intoSt. James’s Square, and his stomach fluttered as his gaze landed on the Foxton townhouse. Three stories of windows stared out over the street—huge eyes, dark in contrast to the white-fronted façade.
Wassheinside?
As he approached the building, he caught a flash of light and his heart gave a flutter. Then he shook his head, cursing his folly. It was merely the reflection of the sunlight, caught in the windowpanes as he crossed the street.
Like much of the square, the building seemed empty, abandoned by all save a handful of staff to guard against marauders and air the rooms. But in a matter of weeks, the place would be bustling with life as the residents returned from wintering in the country to drink in their clubs, visit their modistes, and take tea with their acquaintances to gossip about who might secure the notice of the queen and become the premier debutante of the Season.
Then the world outside London would cease to exist, as would those individuals who resided outside Society, either due to their location, their lack of fortune or social status, or…
…or their ruination at the hands of another.
Stephen’s sister had chosen to remain in the country with Mrs. Stowe, who was proving to be an adept teacher as well as chaperone. Angela’s ruination seemed to have been avoided,with Sir Heath Moss remaining tight-lipped, not once speaking of his seduction of her despite having boasted of numerous other conquests.
