Miss Herschel’s voice echoed in my mind:We’ve much to offer, if we are bold enough to claim it.
I had felt like a colleague at the Herschels’. Here, I was merely a decoration.
After the refreshments, Lady Anne invited me to tour the rose garden. A flicker of dread at the thought of being alone with her passed through me, but Freddy, ever the faithful companion, remained at my side.
“Your roses are lovely,” I commented, admiring the crimson blooms as we walked.
“Our gardener does a fine job,” Lady Anne answered before abruptly pivoting toward me. The sunlight framed her perfect golden hair. SurelyLord Chudley had exaggerated when he said I was the season’s incomparable. His sister was everything a true Englishwoman ought to be with her fair complexion and golden hair.
She planted her feet in the path, forcing me to stop. “Is it true that you are to wed Mr. Sinclair?”
I stumbled at the blunt question. Lady Anne continued to stare at me with disconcertingly blue eyes. Freddy sent me a questioning glance, as though waiting for my response.
I forced what I hoped was a blank expression. “Lord Sinclair and my grandfather made their plans long before I was born.”
“Plans,” Lady Anne repeated, almost as if tasting the word. “And you’ve agreed to them, then?”
I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing to formulate an answer that would avoid her probing. “I haven’t been given the luxury of choice.”
Her polite smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Ah, yes. Family obligations.” She fingered a petal before tearing it free of the near-perfect rose. “My brother believes Mr. Sinclair will sit on the board of directors for the East India Company one day. Perhaps even be governor if he so chooses.”
I squinted against the bright sun as its light warmed my skin. A wave of discomfort crested as I searched for Sebastian. He stood on the lawn in serious discussion with Lord Chudley, while the other men surrounded them.
“What did you say?”floated across the lawn. Sebastian sounded anything but pleased.
Ire swept through me. Had the earl made further rude insinuations to Sebastian?
“He is a talented man, no doubt,” I mumbled as I squinted to better study the men. Sebastian seemed to tense as Lord Chudley leaned into him, saying something I could not hear from this distance.
Sebastian glanced over his shoulder and locked his eyes with mine. His face was thunderous. He shrugged out of his jacket and the earlfollowed suit, both men holding out their coats for others to take. Guests obliged, and Sebastian rolled his shoulders.
“Why has Lord Chudley taken off his coat?” Freddy asked, her calm presence tempering my rising irritation. “Good heavens, so has Mr. Sinclair!”
Oblivious to my friend’s declaration, Lady Anne stepped closer to secure my attention, her jasmine scent nearly overwhelming.
“He needs only the right push, don’t you think, Miss Grenville? You noted that your bluestocking women are more than ornaments, but I prefer a subtler method when dealing with the other sex. With the right wife, Mr. Sinclair could climb to dizzying heights.”
No doubt the fact that Sebastian had already met the Duke of Wellington had sent her cold, shriveled heart into ecstatic pitter-patters.
“I don’t think he needs a woman to handle him,” I snapped before I could help myself.
Both men were standing nearly nose to nose now. Veins popped out from Sebastian’s forehead.
Oh...
Lady Anne followed my gaze, the color draining from her face as the murmur of masculine voices reached us.
We moved forward as one with Freddy close behind in our rush to rejoin the men. Aunt was nowhere to be seen, perhaps having retired to the shade of a drawing room.
Lord Chudley had one hand on his hip as he pointed toward Sebastian. “Surely the protégé who took on Napoleon’s masters and Mr. Angelo isn’t afraid of a friendly match a second time?”
With exaggerated care, Lord Chudley unbuttoned his cuffs, then rolled his billowing sleeves over his muscular forearms. He stood taller than Sebastian.
“Perhaps Mr. Sinclair learned the cowardly ways of the French who flee at the first sign of trouble,” laughed another gentleman.
I glanced at Edward, who stood nearby watching the scene unfold, his arms crossed, brows drawn. Murmuring an excuse to Lady Anne, I hurried to him with Freddy attempting to match my stride.
“Do something, Edward. Surely fencing in the garden midafternoon is absurd.”
