Page 35 of Cupid Comes to Little Valentine

“No, sir. In fact, we have been staying at Cavendish House. My mother lives there much of the year and I am afraid I have rather neglected her. So we spent the past month there, which gave me time to catch up on some estate matters and to listen to my parent scold me for the various ways in which I have failed to be the perfect son,” Beau said wryly.

“Ah, Cavendish House! A splendid prospect, I hear, though I have never seen it. In Kent?” he asked, wrinkling his brow.

“Yes, sir. It is very old and quite beautiful but, like all grand old ladies, it needs rather more attention than I can always give it.”

The reverend chuckled appreciatively at this and nodded. “I don’t doubt it. I should so much like to see it one day.”

“Papa,” Miss Honeywell said in an urgent undertone, obviously embarrassed by her parent’s blatant angling for an invitation.

Her father regarded her with a frank smile, quite unrepentant. “Well, I would like to see it,” he said, a little defensively. “And don’t pretend you wouldn’t, for I shan’t believe you.”

“That may be true, but I should not be so bold as to demand an invitation,” Miss Honeywell replied, looking somewhat exasperated and darting an apologetic glance at Beau.

He chuckled at her consternation. “Please do not trouble yourself, Miss Honeywell, I should be glad to extend an invitation to you all. My mother loves entertaining and would be delighted to meet you, should you wish to stay for a few days. I will let her know that I have invited you.”

“Oh, dear. Well, that is most kind,” Miss Honeywell replied in resignation, looking increasingly mortified, much to Beau’s amusement.

“How wonderful, and will you be there, my lord?” the reverend.

Beau hesitated. He was oddly tempted to show these kind people his home, yet it would not do. Such an invitation might lead Miss Honeywell to think… to hope…. “I’m rarely at home, I’m afraid,” he said hurriedly, regretting the words as he saw the disappointment in the old fellow’s eyes. He felt it himself, too. It would be fun to show Miss Honeywell around and tell her the history of the place. “But you never know,” he added in a rush.

“Excellent.” Honeywell beamed and Beau hid his smile, very aware of the fellow’s machinations which had nothing on his doting mama’s.

“I wonder, would the young ladies care to take a stroll to the beach with us,” Stonehaven asked. “I should very much like to see a little more of the place before we leave.”

“Of course they would!” Honeywell cried. “A capital notion. Run and fetch your bonnets, my dears, and show our guests the delights of Little Valentine.”

Dutifully, and without a word of protest, the ladies hurried off.

The reverend rubbed his hands together, well pleased with this development. “Well, this has been a rare treat, my lord. I do hope you will call on us again if you are staying close by. I shan’t join you on your walk, though, so don’t fret. You young people enjoy a lovely stroll, and perhaps you should call in at The Mermaid’s Tale for refreshments. They do the most marvellous ices. Bound to work up a thirst on such a hot day.”

“We shall, sir, I thank you,” Beau said, before shaking the man’s hand and bidding him a good afternoon.

Beau and Stonehaven went to the front garden to await their companions, and Beau looked to his friend, awaiting what he might say.

“Certainly a duke,” Stonehaven said with a grin. “She ought not to lower her sights to a mere marquess, and yet—”

“Behave,” Beau said brusquely.

“As if I wouldn’t,” Stonehaven retorted indignantly, hand on heart.

Any reply Beau might have made, he stifled as the front door opened and the three ladies appeared. Stonehaven immediately took possession of Miss Beatrice and Miss Isabelle, demanding each take his arm and looking like the cock of the walk the moment they did. Beau shook his head and offered his arm to Miss Honeywell, who was regarding him with speculative interest. Awareness still thrummed between them, but Miss Honeywell had clearly got herself in hand and he knew she would do nothing to acknowledge it. Not unless he provoked her. It was a tempting thought, but one he resisted, at least for now.

Stonehaven and his new friends walked off, with Stonehaven chatting easily and doing his part to put the ladies at ease. Beau slanted a glance at his companion, her frank gaze as unsettling as always.

“You are trying to read my brain again, Miss Honeywell,” he complained, startling a laugh from her, which pleased him.

“I am,” she admitted. “I simply cannot fathom what you are doing here.”

“I told you, we were en route to a friend’s,” he said, aware he sounded a trifle defensive.

“Yes, so you said,” she replied, not sounding convinced. They walked on a little farther. “Stonehaven seems an amiable fellow.”

Beau looked at her sharply, wondering if she had been beguiled so easily. Certainly, most women found Stonehaven to be a fascinating fellow, almost magnetic. Of course, his lofty title did not hurt, either. Beau studied her face, making her turn to look at him. She glanced away quickly, and he smiled, relieved he had not been trumped.

“He is,” Beau agreed. They walked on a little further in silence.

After a while, he felt her studying his face, and allowed her to do so without comment, knowing she would ask whatever it was she wished to know shortly.