Page 42 of Cupid Comes to Little Valentine

“No, you just have something to say, but you are hoping I will say it for you, so you don’t have to,” Stonehaven replied placidly.

“I hate you sometimes,” Beau grumbled, for at times his friend was too clever for his own good. “I tell you what. You tell me about Mrs Adamson, and I’ll tell you what’s on my mind.”

“No dice,” Stonehaven said, looking remarkably pleased with himself.

“Why not?” Beau said in frustration. “It’s a fair deal.”

“Perhaps, but I do not need to unburden my soul, and you do. You’ll tell me anyway, whether or not I say anything.”

Beau glowered. “I hate you more when you’re right, damn you.”

Stonehaven chuckled. “It’s a curse.”

Beau considered the vista before him, trying to decide if confiding in his friend was a good idea. Until their recent conversation, sparked by his meeting with Reverend Honeywell, it simply had not been the way their relationship worked. Yet, Stonehaven, despite a bit of ribbing, had not mocked him or ridiculed him overly for baring his soul a little. So, why not? It was either that or return to Cavendish House and confide in his mother.

Well, that decided it.

“I’m thinking of offering for Miss Honeywell.”

Stonehaven nodded, evidencing not an iota of surprise.

“Oh, come on,” Beau said crossly. “Don’t sit there all inscrutable and act like you knew all along, damn you.”

Stonehaven laughed. “I didn’t, and I’m not, I swear it. But in light of what you said recently about being friends with your wife, it makes a good deal of sense. She’ll not plague you endlessly for jewellery and parties; she won’t fly up into the boughs over little slights, real or imagined. She’s a sensible girl. A damned pretty one too, I noticed. She and Miss Isabelle are just cast into the shade by the incomparable.”

Beau nodded, but felt somehow unsatisfied by Stonehaven’s remarks, which seemed to diminish Miss Honeywell rather unfairly. She was a good deal more than sensible or pretty. Even damned pretty. Still, his friend’s approval eased his mind somewhat. One more thing yet bothered him, however.

Though it near choked him to get the words out, Beau forced himself to say them aloud. “Think she’ll have me?”

Stonehaven’s eyes widened, and he stared at Beau in astonishment. “Good God! What is this? Lord Beaumarsh doubting his own desirability? I never thought I would live to see the day.”

“Oh, stow it,” Beau said, having had quite enough of Stonehaven’s antics for one day.

Snatching the bottle from its watery haven, he took his glass and stalked off to find a quiet place to finish it alone.

“A club?” Clara said doubtfully.

“I think it is an excellent idea, and you are welcome to hold the meetings here when the place is quiet,” Mrs Adamson said, passing another plate of cakes around the assembled company. They had already laid waste to the first lot.

The ladies were sitting on the terrace of The Mermaid’s Tale, a delightfully cool breeze drifting from the sea and keeping the temperatures bearable. A pretty posy of roses and lavender adorned the table alongside a large jug of lemonade, and the atmosphere was relaxed and friendly.

“Well, if you let them know you will provide cakes like these, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with getting the women to come,” Clara said ruefully, taking her second cake from the assortment on offer. “We might all need to let out our gowns by the end of the year, mind,” she added, sinking her teeth into the delicious sweet and giving a little moan of delight.

Clementine wondered how often she enjoyed such a treat and decided cakes were definitely something she would insist on having at their meetings.

“Well, I hope it helps,” Clementine said, helping herself to another, for they were too delicious not to indulge. Thoughtfully, she added, “Perhaps we should add walking to the list of activities to keep ourselves fit. Seriously, though, how should we organise it? And what form ought it to take? Also, we shall need a name.”

“The Ladies of Little Valentine,” Bea said promptly.

Clementine pulled a face. “Well, it’s very accurate, but I was hoping for something a little more inspiring.”

“The Inspiring Ladies of Little Valentine,” Bea replied with a grin.

Clementine laughed. “Keep working on it, love.”

“You need a reason for the ladies to gather, for the first few times certainly,” Mrs Adamson said, frowning. “Perhaps we should just offer tea and cakes to anyone who will come. If we meet once a month to begin with, it might mean even the ladies who work could find a way to come. Perhaps if it was at lunchtime? Then we could do other things, like offering a free painting lesson, Bea could do that, couldn’t she?”

“Oh,” Bea blushed, looking taken aback. “Well, I suppose so, but there’s probably a lady with more talent than I have in the town.”