“Speak of the devil,” St. John said.
“I’m sorry, what?” Lord Manderbey said, looking through narrowed eyes at his cousin.
“Oh do not mind me,” Lord St. John said. “I was just telling Lady Winsome that I am seriously considered for the ambassador to Portugal post. Rio de Janeiro should be an exciting adventure, for a lady willing to take the risk.
Winsome had no idea how Lord St. John had circled back to that preposterous idea.
“Do you say you have plans to wed?” Lord Manderbey asked.
“Only if the lady is agreeable,” Lord St. John said. “I had not initially thought of it, but this season has found me quite suddenly struck.”
Lord Manderbey looked as if he wished to say something, but perhaps did not wish to say it in front of her. In a low tone, he said, “We should discuss the prudence of that, even with the ambassadorship’s stipend.”
Lord St. John threw up his nose. “Prudence would not be necessary if family paid what was duly owed.”
“I owe you nothing,” Lord Manderbey said through gritted teeth.
“Ah! I see, it is acceptable to throw over obligations to family. Well, I hadn’t known, but that’s Doncaster is it not?” He turned and bowed to Winsome. “Lady Winsome. I will see you soon, I think.”
Lord St. John strolled away, leaving her with Lord Manderbey.
“I apologize for my cousin. His temperament is rather unregulated and he often says that which should not be said.”
Winsome did not know what to make of that. Lord St. John should have kept Lord Manderbey’s secret? Just not mentioned it? Pretended he was not owed a debt?
“You seem a bit pale, Lady Winsome,” he said. “Perhaps a glass of wine would restore you?”
“Yes, I suppose it might,” Winsome said. She did not really think wine would restore her, but perhaps it would calm her. What was she to do? Everything about him was wrong and all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms.
