Page 54 of Wit, Wiles and Courtship

“Pembroke, you have returned.” Mary nodded in the direction of her boys, who were well wrapped in blankets and sitting side by side on a sofa playing with the tokens they had collected. “You were smart to send Lady Camilla ahead with the winning token, although I am sorry your wet boots delayed your return. Tom and Henry are so pleased to have won.”

Camilla had not needed his help after all. She had thought of a perfectly reasonable excuse all on her own. His eyes still rested on her sitting with her sisters. “I am glad for them,” he murmured.

“You have made your nephews happy today, Pembroke,” Mary added, and he looked at her fully now, surprised by something he heard in her voice. It sounded like approval. Affection. Something he had never heard growing up five years her junior. “It was all they could talk about when we returned to the house. That their uncle was a bang-up fellow.”

He chuckled. “Where did two four-year olds learn the term ‘bang-up fellow?’”

She shook her head, a smile on her lips. “I told them not to say it, but Moffat just laughed. He said they likely heard William say it.” William was Moffat’s nephew in Cambridge who wore all the latest, most outrageous fashions and spoke in an affected manner. He was a harmless fellow but sometimes annoying. Although Rowe seemed to intimidate him, that did not stop him from informing him that he knew where a good tailor was to be found if Lord Pembroke was of a mind to try something new.

“I enjoyed it,” Rowe said, returning to the subject of his nephews. It was the truth, although he would not go so far as to promise to take them out every week in case his altruism was short-lived.

Camilla, for all appearances, seemed in good humor, sporting two spots of color on her cheeks. He wondered if she was troubled by what had happened or by what she might suppose his intentions were. It was infuriating to be reduced to guessing. He would have to discover what had passed through her mind as soon as he could. Unlike his nephews, his patience with her would not be short-lived.

Evo came to stand at his side. He had grown again and was almost of a height with Rowe. “I wish you hadn’t sent Camilla on ahead of you, otherwise we might have won.”

“My apologies,” Rowe said without sincerity.

“And I must say, I think it paltry of you to have given up on finishing the race simply because your boots are wet,” Evo went on.

“Extremely paltry,” Rowe said in a state of distraction. He would not rest until he was able to speak to Camilla and learn what she was thinking.

“As for myself,” Evo persisted, folding his arms in front of his chest, “I would certainly not allow a woman to claim victory in a race, even if we were on the same side.”

“No. You would very likely shove her from the path if she got in your way.” Rowe threw him a sideways glance, the humor of such a mental image piercing his preoccupation.

“This is a test, isn’t it?” Evo glowered at him. “It is probably another of yours and Miles’s lessons telling me I need to be more of a gentleman. At least Felix doesn’t hound me on the matter. Allow me to remind you that I am an earl and as such am by nature a gentleman.”

“As you should know enough on the matter by now, I am quite sure you are only trying to provoke me by spouting nonsense.” Rowe placed his hand on Evo’s shoulder and smiled at him grimly. “But in the event that I am wrong, as is on rare occasions the case, and you persist in your benightedness, let me remind you that if you are not first a gentleman, you cannot be an earl, for the one must come before the other. The number of reminders you seem to require on the subject leads one to question whether you have even the common sense of a man.”

Evo looked ready to take offense at this, which was unsurprising since Rowe had not minced words. But he stopped and appeared to consider. “Point taken.”

“You will do all right,” Rowe said, smiling. His smile fell a little when he glanced over at Camilla, who was still surrounded by her family. Had he behaved like a gentleman when he had kissed her before he told her he wanted to marry her? But she must know the depth of his passion and attachment for her. He had left her in no doubt. It had been written all over his face.

He was granted no chance to speak with Camilla at Beechcroft, and they left not long afterwards. The wind had not abated, nor had it grown worse. In the end, it had done him a small favor because he had been given that one moment alone with Camilla that he would not otherwise have had if they had all remained on the lawn by the house playing archery. He supposed for that reason, he could like the wind a very little bit. But it would be a deuced nuisance to ride home in it with his feet soaking wet.

As the guests prepared to climb into their carriages, he went over to assist Camilla and her sisters into theirs. For once, Evo was performing his duty, and Rowe watched him, disgruntled.

I should have postponed my talk on gentlemanly behavior with Evo until a later day.

A stable lad arrived leading Rowe’s gelding, and Gerry, already in the saddle, brought his horse alongside. “Let us ride together. I have news on Eubank.”

“Do you? Very well.” Rowe had not often thought about Miss Eubank’s problems once he had handed the matter over to Gerry, but he did want to know where things stood. The carriages and riders started forth, with Weatherby and Pollard toward the front where Miss Milton and Miss Winkley’s carriage were.

“I meant to tell you this on the way over, but Weatherby wanted to speak to me about Miss Winkley.” Gerry had a grin on his face, which Rowe understood at once.

“He has fallen for her, has he?”

“There is nothing to announce,” Gerry clarified. “And he has not even succeeded in winning time alone with her, but he is set on a pursuit and wanted to make sure it would not cause problems between us.”

“Generous of him. I am not sure I would have been so if a lady had snagged my heart. Not even to a good friend.” He was thinking of Camilla, and in fact, knew he would not be so benevolent.

“But then you’ve never felt more for a woman than a passing fancy, have you?”

When Rowe didn’t answer, Gerry shot him a look. “Well, I suppose you will tell me when you are ready to do so. In any case, I told him he had nothing to fear. Miss Winkley is a pretty girl, but she doesn’t have enough spirit for me.”

“Yes, she does seem rather biddable.”

“Anyway, to move on to the subject of Eubank. I went to the trouble of inviting him to my table at The Cocoa Tree one evening. Fortunately, it was at a moment when Laverock was not at the club. Eubank was in his cups, which I think is why he confided in me. With a little encouragement, he confessed that he has begun to suspect Laverock is not the friend he appears to be, and then the rest spilled out.”