Page 23 of Wit, Wiles and Courtship

“I did.” She cocked her head with a look that seemed to challenge him to come to the point. The look was not precisely arrogant, but rather assured. This was new.

“And yet, ever since you’ve arrived in London, you have not seemed to enjoy mine.” Well, he had planned on opening the budget, so he might as well do it.

“Do you mean the two times we have met?” Her smile was not quite mocking, but almost.

“Yes, in those two times.” He would not be deterred by pretense since he longed to get to the bottom of her behavior. “And that would not be remarkable with another woman, but in the nearly three years we have known each other, we have always been good friends, have we not? We are connected through your sister’s marriage to my cousin, and we have spent weeks together at Elmscote.”

“True. But then we have gone seven months without seeing each other at all, so perhaps we are not as good friends as you suggest.”

“So you are put out because I did not keep up a correspondence with you over the winter? I did write to Miles and included all of his wife’s family.”

“How generous of you.”

“I received but one reply, and it was from Tilly.” Confound it! He had betrayed himself with that last line. Steady, Rowe. This is most unlike you.

The almost mocking smile had returned. “I hardly expected that you would notice whether or not I replied to a letter addressed to my brother-in-law, all of my sisters, and my mother.” He did not like the expression in her eyes that seemed to see too much in him.

“You would have preferred me to write to you directly then,” he said, cynicism coloring his own words.

“I have no expectation that you should write to a lady at all with whom you have no understanding, my lord.”

“Precisely. So I am at a loss to understand your behavior now.” He hardly knew why he was speaking to her in such a tense manner. What had come over him?

She let out a silent breath and trained her eyes at some point over his shoulder. “There is truly nothing to understand. Without wishing to sound either grasping or pathetic, I am in London in the hopes of securing a suitable match. You will therefore understand why I do not fix myself at your side, lest I give other gentlemen the wrong impression.”

“I do not expect you to be glued to my side, Lady Camilla, but I believe I have cause to expect a hint of your former friendship. Your nature has always been without guile.”

“Perhaps I have grown.” She leveled him with her gaze. “And wish to reserve my friendship for my suitors?”

Why can I not be a suitor? The words snaked into his brain before he could prepare his defense, and they shook him to his core. As soon as he had command of himself, he clipped this odd reaction and brought to an end this rare moment of unguarded speech. It would never happen again.

“You are right to warn me, my lady. I should not wish to frighten away any of your suitors.”

She dipped her head in acknowledgment, a scant turning up of her lips that infuriated him as much for its coolness as its condescension.

“Pembroke. That is your coach, I believe.” Felix led his wife over to join them. Both were smiling and he found it difficult to respond with amiability but pushed himself to do so. They piled into the carriage, and he shut the door before they drove off, ending any further confidences.

Chapter 9

Camilla had intended to ignore Lord Pembroke last night at Astley’s, but the Fates had been against her. For some inexplicable reason, her mother had forced her to ride with Pembroke and the Harwoods, not with Bernice Milton as she had planned. After the performance, Sophia and Felix had stood apart talking, leaving her subject to Pembroke’s conversation. Whether this was by chance or by design, she could not escape his attention. The discussion that ensued surprised her, for it had been very forthright. His manner, so unlike him, of laying things on the table had shaken her, but neither had he remained unaffected. She could be proud of herself for holding her own, for she had answered without blushes or faltering.

If there was still a part of her, however infinitesimal, that wished he had fallen at her feet and declared his feelings for her, she was doomed to disappointment. And if the secret longings of her heart wished to hear that no proposal to Miss Eubank had occurred because he had come to the realization that he was in love with her, then she must simply steel her resolve. To hope for such a thing was mere foolishness, for it was not his way. He was kind, thoughtful when it came to family, solid. But he was not of a romantic, effusive nature—the type to fall at a woman’s feet and declare his eternal love. And if he were, she would be the last person to drive him to it.

Although she shoved this next thought into a small corner of her mind for its being so unreasonable, she wished he had countered her directive to leave her alone at the season’s events, so she might find a suitable husband. He could have used that moment to declare that he wished to enter the lists. The fact he had not made it plain that he was thoroughly and utterly not an option. She understood it. She accepted it. And yet her throat ached with unshed tears whenever she thought of it.

A loud clamor sounded downstairs, followed by voices. Camilla, dressed and seated before the mirror in her room, did not need to listen further to know that it was Evo returning from school. Her cheeks were still pink from unexpressed emotion, so she fanned herself then smoothed her dress before going to the stairwell. Before she had descended halfway, Evo looked up.

“Camilla, you needn’t come down as well. I will see you at dinner.” He looked around at his three sisters and mother, who had all gathered to welcome him. “Females,” he said, shaking his head in feigned disgust.

“You should not be so disdainful,” Joanna said. “You will one day marry one.”

“I should hardly think so. Or if I do, not before I’m fifty,” he retorted.

“And perhaps not even then, for you will have to convince one to accept you first.” Tilly smiled, proud that she had scored a hit. He rolled his eyes at her.

“And since you will one day have to marry one,” Camilla said, picking up the thread, “You might as well begin now by learning to greet your sisters and mother with a modicum of respect.”

“No, I need not. When I do marry, the lady will have to respect me. And if I am not in the humor to speak to her, why then, I’ll send her off to her bedroom or the parlor, and I will go to the club.”