Page 31 of A Gentleman to Avoid (Sherton Sisters 3)

“Nothing, unfortunately.” She no longer bothered suppressing the sigh. “I’m afraid a debutante is not cut out for subterfuge. At least, not this one.”

His expression turned sinister for a moment, making Vicky feel momentarily fearful, but he quickly masked his reaction and offered her a rather weasely smile.

“I’m sure that’s not true. There’s still time. You can try again.”

“I would much prefer you tell me what exactly you think he’s up to and how it impacts my family.”

“As I told you, you need to find out from Northcott the information I require, then I will tell you.”

Vicky narrowed her eyes and stared at him. “That sounds rather a lot like blackmail, my lord.”

“Not at all. You’ll just be more prepared to listen, if you do it my way.”

Vicky wanted to rail at him, but she had no intention of drawing attention to their interaction. If she had her preference, she would never speak to the viscount again. She truly believed he was full of hot air. But she just didn’t know what he could possibly think to accomplish from this. She wanted to write to her sisters to get their view on the matter, but seeing as they were both in the family way, she didn’t want to burden them with her concerns. Perhaps, she could write to either or both of her brothers-in-law, but she wasn’t sure if they would take her concerns seriously. All of these thoughts tumbled around in her head as she stared at Lord Bertram.

“I still haven’t seen the other side of the ruins, my lord. Good afternoon.” Without further explanation, she dismissed the ridiculous man and carried on with her explorations. She had enough interest in the site that she could ponder the problem and explore at the same time. It was a shame she couldn’t engage fully in her exploration. She only hoped she would be able to return one day to see the ruins again, as Lord Bertram had nearly ruined the excursion for her.

Georgia was calling everyone together for their picnic repast, and it struck Vicky as verging on the ridiculous. When she and Georgia had been growing up, their idea of a fancy picnic was a blanket on the grass rather than sitting directly on the ground. Now, there were servants arranging tables and chairs and spreading lovely white tablecloths everywhere. Georgia must have read her dubious expression for her lips twisted with wry humour when their eyes met.

Vicky hurried to offer her assistance.

“Don’t look at me as though I’ve lost my mind, Vick.”

“Well, if the shoe fits, George,” Vicky countered with a chuckle. “It’s all quite lovely, my dear. You’re a wonderful hostess.”

“It’s a far cry from where I came from.”

“Me, too, I suppose, even though I’m a Sherton. We weren’t quite so fancy as girls. But we aren’t little girls anymore, so I suppose this is what’s appropriate.”

Georgia laughed. “Don’t sound so disappointed, my dear. Being grown up isn’t so terrible.”

“Maybe not once you’re finished. It’s this awkward in-between stage,” Vicky said with melancholy before quickly waving her hand dismissively. “Never mind my foolish whims, my dear. See to your guests and tell me what you want me to do.”

Georgia shrugged. “I think the servants have it all under control. It seems to me they’re having nearly as much fun with my ideas as I’ve had.”

Vicky smiled and nodded and took the seat Georgia indicated, trying to enter into the spirit of the event. At least, it seemed like everyone else was delighted with the excursion, she thought as she looked around at the assembled guests. Her gaze was momentarily ensnared by the perceptive stare of Ashford Northcott. For a moment, Vicky felt as though he were reading her soul, and she quailed lest he know all her secrets. The wink he quickly offered her made her want to laugh and cry in turns. She blinked and turned away, hoping to be able to ignore him.

She watched as her new friend Lady Delilah ensnared his attention. Ashford had to lean closer to hear her soft spoken speech over the hubbub of the excited crowd. Vicky turned away, fighting the tide of jealousy that was rising in her belly. She knew that was the emotion but she couldn’t explain, even to herself, why she could possibly be experiencing such feelings. She certainly didn’t want Mr. Ashford Northcott for herself. It was beyond churlish for her to begrudge him to her friend. But that was certainly what she seemed to be feeling.

Forcing an expression of delight onto her face, Vicky turned to the gentleman on her left.

“Lord Cranston, we haven’t had a chance to speak yet, how are you? Did you have a good journey here?”

“Oh, yes, my lady, thank you, and I apologize for not having made the time to greet you upon my arrival.”

Vicky was immediately remorseful. “My apologies, my lord, I had no intention of calling you to task,” she declared with light laughter. “We’ve all been preoccupied and the nature of a house party allows for longer conversations with some, but then, perhaps, shorter or no conversations with others. But there is nothing to apologize for in that. It is just how it is.” She allowed a brief pause before carrying on. “We had a delightfully uneventful journey from Town. Crossley rode much of the time, which I daresay was lovely, but I think it would have been particularly tiring for Lady Crossley.”

“Oh, to be sure,” the good natured young baron agreed promptly. “For my part, I rode as well. The weather was perfect. I broke up my journey with a visit to my sister, so it was killing two birds with one stone as the saying goes.”

Vicky didn’t particularly enjoy that expression, but she smiled and nodded anyway.

“And how is your sister? She married Viscount Drysdale last year, didn’t she?”

“That she did, and well on the way to presenting him with their first child, so I was glad to get to see her as they hadn’t come up for the Season. As her older brother, it’s hard for me to envision her as a mother, but I’m pleased to see that she seemed quite content with her lot.”

Vicky smiled, again reminded of just what she was supposed to be trying to arrange for herself.

Lord Cranston seemed like a perfectly pleasant gentleman, but Vicky found she couldn’t muster up much excitement for the prospect of him courting her. Her attention kept drifting toward Ashford and whatever he might have been discussing with Delilah. Vicky hadn’t thought the shy young woman had quite so much to say, and she struggled with the angry jealousy that was eating her insides.

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