“When were you going to inform me that you quit your post?”
Christopher turned around to face his brother. “To be honest, I hadn’t planned to tell you, as I know how protective you can be. But have no worry. Now, I will be within sight night or day. What better arrangement can there be?” He grinned, hoping his brother would be appeased, but not confident about it.
Andrew was definitely taken aback by the statement. “Yes, for now, a fortnight. But then what? Do you plan to use your winnings from Harewood to buy a commission? You know you would have my support in that. I believe the duke could even help. Unless you were hoping for a parish, though I don’t think you well suited to that.”
Christopher grimaced, unable to help himself. The option of becoming a vicar had been thought of and dismissed years ago, alongwith becoming a lawyer or buying a commission. After dismissing the typical professions for second sons, he’d investigated other options, options closer to what he’d been supposed to inherit through his mother’s father. It was that feeling of having just missed his true legacy that had led him to the path he was now on. “I agree with you. I don’t believe being a vicar would suit me in the least.”
“But I can see you in the military. You could even speak to Lord Blackmore about it.”
“I could, but I should probably wait until after his child is born, don’t you think?”
His brother ran his hand through his hair, a habit that made it clear he wasn’t comfortable with their conversation. “Yes. That’s true. I might know someone else who—”
The doors to the terrace opened and Lord Manning and Lord Wellsley stepped out.
Lord Wellsley shivered. “What are you doing out here, Tamworth?”
“I’m speaking with my brother. Did you need me for something?”
Manning gestured toward Wellsley. “He insisted on getting your opinion on a bust he noticed in Lord Ferncroft’s library. He’s convinced it’s Epicurus, but I say it’s Plato. Since you’re our expert on the classics, we need your opinion.”
Andrew stiffened. “You don’t have a bet on it, do you?”
Manning pulled himself up, clearly affronted. “Hardly.”
Seeing an opportunity to leave his brother, Christopher smiled. “I’d be happy to put your confusion to rest. I just hope it’s a well-done bust.” He turned to Andrew. “Brother, you’re an expert in art. Would you like to join us on this unimportant quest for the truth?”
Andrew shook his head, then turned on his heel and strode back inside.
Wellsley raised his brows. “See what marriage does to you, Manning?”
Christopher slapped him on the back. “I don’t think Manning can become any stuffier.”
“I say.”
“Come, Manning. Let’s see who this great bust is. Then, if you like, we can discuss the positives and negatives of marrying after one is thirty.” He laughed. Once more, life was going just as he wished it.
Chapter Six
The Belinda School for Curious Ladies
Silver Meadows
Hilary Term, January 8, 1818
At the knockon her door, Sophie turned in her dressing table chair to find Georgie walking in, her pretty pale-green day dress swishing at her brisk movement. “We must go to the activity room, posthaste.”
Sophie rose. “Is something amiss?”
“I don’t know. My maid ran in to say we must all descend immediately.” Georgie was already walking back to the door to exit.
“It may be that Lord and Lady Sommerset wish to let all the ladies know of the duke and duchess’s absence. Remember, we only learned of it on the carriage ride to school yesterday.”
Georgie halted as quickly as she’d started. “You’re right. I forgot no one else knows. Though I did tell Felicity last night when she came to my room to ask about the ball she’d had to miss at Ellie’s.”
Fortunately, the duchess’s absence wasn’t a secret. Georgie was terrible at keeping secrets. She wanted to be liked, so she helped however and wherever she could. Sophie gestured toward the door. “Did you tell Felicity all about the costumes and skating?”
Georgie’s eyes widened. “I fear I neglected those aspects.”
