‘Does she drive you to the point of distraction?’
‘She would drive anyone to distraction, uncle. I hardly think that can be used as an effective gauge to measure it by...’
Uncle George held up his hand and held his gaze intently. ‘Would you do anything to keep her happy or safe, even if that meant sacrificing yourself to achieve it?’
‘Well, of course I would! If you recall, I did get punched in the face.’ And he had listened to her ramblings last night even though he had wanted to rail against her for being so pessimistic. ‘But I would have done the same for anyone in a similar situation. I am fond of Miss Mansfield, I will grant you that, but it is not love. Her background is wholly unsuitable...’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, boy! That is your father speaking and a colder fish never walked on this earth. He was my brother and I loved him, but he was not an easy man to like. He made your poor mother miserable and I will not allow his petty prejudices to cloud your judgement and force you into a life of misery too!’
The force behind his uncle’s words took him aback. In all of his thirty years, Bennett had never heard his uncle criticise his father once.Cold fish?His father had been reserved, yes, but he had cared enough about Bennett to ensure that he was prepared to take on the life of great responsibility ahead of him.Petty prejudices?Was Uncle George referring to his father’s advice about his future bride? He knew that his uncle found the Potentials a little exasperating, but surely he could understand why such a woman was necessary to be the wife of a member of His Majesty’s cabinet. And as for his claim that his father had made his mother miserable— Well, frankly that was preposterous! His parents had had the perfect marriage. His father had often said so. If there had not been so many people in the room, Bennett would have shouted his outrage.
‘He did not make my mother miserable!’ His heated whisper earned him a few curious stares from those hovering closest to where they sat, so he forced himself to calm down. Now was definitely not the time or the place for a volcanic eruption of all the warring, turbulent jumble of emotions that had been troubling him of late.
Uncle George set his jaw stubbornly. ‘Of course he did. All he cared about was his own blasted political ambitions. He was always too busy for anything else. Why do you think that it was me who taught you to ride and to shoot? I stepped into the breach when he abandoned you to follow his own path—a path, I hasten to add, that he has forced you down as well. I hate the way he controls your life from the grave. Do you remember your father’s presence here for the duration of all of those summers and Christmases? Don’t you ever wonder why you are an only child, Bennett? Your self-important father was far too interested in his own position in the government that he neglected your mother for the entirety of their marriage.’
Mortally offended, Bennett stood and promptly took himself to another corner of the room without another word. If he stayed next to his uncle, he would only disgrace himself in public. As soon as the moment was right, he would speak to his mother in private so that he could satisfy himself that his uncle was lying. Except, now that he came to think upon it, there might well be some weight to Uncle George’s impassioned assertions.
His father had rarely come to Aveley Castle. Nor had he taught him how to ride or shoot or swim. He had certainly never slid down a banister with his father—that would have given the man an apoplexy of epic proportions—or capsized a boat or waltzed around the ballroom with him because his big feet had such trouble with the steps. Had there ever been a momentous occasion in his life when his uncle George had not been present? His father, certainly, had missed a great deal, but Uncle George had been by his and his mother’s side for the lot.
Another uncomfortable thought suddenly occurred to him as he watched his uncle march across the room to his mother. He saw her put her arm affectionately on his and smile in understanding as the old man undoubtedly vented his frustration about Bennett. Uncle George had always been there for her too. Every step of the way. In all but name, they were like a married couple who adored each other. Surely he had not been so preoccupied with his own careernotto have seen something like that? They all lived under the same roof after all... Damn it all to hell, they all lived under the same roof. Like a family! Like his blasted ceiling mural, could he have been so determined to see things one way, when in fact there was an altogether different picture when viewed from another perspective? Was this yet another thing he had got entirely wrong?
Bennett wandered to the table and accepted another cup of tea from a servant and tried to get a better view of his mother and his uncle to see if his ridiculous, implausible new suspicion actually carried any weight. Was his uncle right? Was his father controlling him from the grave?
He had no time to ponder that. Lady Cecily was already edging towards him with a purposeful gleam in her eye, closely followed by both her mother and her father. A quick glance at the mantel clock told him that it was only just past noon and he had told Lovett to extricate him from his mother’s tea party at two. Now he was stuck here for another couple of hours, in a foul temper and more confused than he had ever been in his life about almost everything.
‘Your Grace! How wonderful it was to receive your invitation.’ Lady Cecily was practically simpering and batting her eyelashes in a way that he could only assume she thought was beguiling. As if he wanted an obedient marionette who simply batted her eyelashes at him! Or parroted his book or followed every one of its edicts! She slid her arm through his and offered him a demure and adoring smile. Realising that he was completely doomed with no hope of redemption, Bennett was left with little choice other than to paste a polite smile on his face and suffer her unwanted attentions manfully.
Amelia sat with Lady Worsted and pretended that she was not boiling with jealousy at the sight of the Duke chatting happily with Lady Cecily as though he did not have a care in the world. After all that had been said yesterday evening, she could not help selfishly feeling put out by his rapid return to normal. He might have had the decency to take a little more time in getting over her. The conniving Cecily was gripping onto Ben’s arm as if he were a trophy and casting gloating glances at her rivals—including Amelia.
Sir George wandered over looking peeved and promptly folded his arms across his chest the moment he sat down next to them. ‘I really have no idea what possessed Octavia to invite so many people when none of us are in the mood to have them here. Did she tell you what she had in mind?’
Lady Worsted shook her head mournfully. ‘All I knew about were the Potentials. I believe it was her intention to help Bennett to choose one of them in a less formal setting. Surely there cannot be any more carriages? We must be up to twenty guests already.’
The three of them all turned to watch the Dowager greeting another couple at the door and Sir George rolled his eyes. ‘And they keep on coming! At this rate, we will soon run out of chairs.’
The Dowager sailed towards them, smiling like the perfect hostess with the latest arrivals in tow. ‘Augusta, George—you remember the Sandfords, don’t you? I shall leave them in your capable hands while I go to greet the Viscount and Viscountess of Bray. Lovett has just informed me that their carriage is arriving.’
Amelia froze and then experienced a moment of sheer, unadulterated panic. One look told her Lady Worsted had also just realised that a catastrophe of huge proportions was pending.
‘Did you know about this?’ Amelia’s throat began to tighten as she gripped Lady Worsted’s hand in panic.
‘Of course I didn’t!’
Her employer was on the cusp of flapping, which would be no use to either of them, so Amelia stood sharply and tried not to shout. ‘I cannot be seen here!’ If she was fast, she could escape and avoid them. She would have to spend the entire afternoon locked inside her bedchamber, but at least she would avoid causing a scandal.
Amelia stumbled blindly to the door and in her haste to flee she collided with a footman carrying a loaded tray. Cups and cutlery clattered noisily to the floor, drawing everyone’s attention. ‘I am so sorry!’ she said to the footman as she simultaneously picked up her skirts and hurried towards the door to freedom.
‘Amelia—wait!’
Bennett’s voice called from behind her, but still she did not stop. It was better to be horrifically rude to a duke in front of a room full of guests than to publicly embarrass him with the scandal that was poised to happen. Perhaps later she would explain. If she absolutely had to. Or she could just run towards the woodland and keep on running. That might be preferable.
‘Wait!’ His voice was insistent as he stayed her arm and turned her towards him, his cobalt eyes filled with concern. ‘What has happened?’
Frustrated, angry tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. She knew that he deserved the truth, but there was no time, so she lied. ‘I am not feeling very well. I need to go and lie down.’
It was obvious that he did not believe her because he refused to relinquish his hold on her arm. ‘Something has upset you. Please tell me what is wrong.’
‘Let me go, Ben, I beg you. I will explain everything later, but please let me go.’ The bothersome tears would not be held back any longer and began to trickle down her cheeks. If that was not mortifying enough, the people nearest the door were watching them with barely disguised interest, which meant she had already caused a scene, despite her father’s imminent arrival.
