Page 35 of Desperately Seeking Seduction

He glanced around, and his tension returned. One of these people must have seen him. What were they waiting for?

Yet each and every one smiled at him in turn, and otherwise showed no sign of revulsion or interest when meeting his gaze. Except for Cousin George, who wore a perpetual scowl as he looked across the gallery at his newly married sister, husband, and himself.

Amity cleared her throat. “Might I trouble you for a private conversation?”

“Yes, of course, cousin. I’d be more than happy to speak with you, and your husband too.” However, at that moment, an unexpected figure strode into the room. Mr. Edwin Aston Senior, followed by his much larger son, Edwin.

He turned quickly to Amity and lowered his voice. “When the hell did Aston arrive?”

“Not that long ago. Why?”

“He wasn’t expected,” he muttered. The duke was away from the estate, along with his brothers, on business in the nearest village this morning. They would not be pleased to find Aston had arrived while they were gone. Undoubtedly this was George’s doing, bringing Aston to the estate now.

He glanced at George and saw a smirk on his face—confirmation Aston was part of his plan to cause Ravenswood trouble.

“Has Aston met with the duke yet?”

“I shouldn’t think so. Ravenswood left at dawn with your brothers. Why?”

Ravenswood owed Aston the most of anyone. There was not enough money in the collective pool yet to cover that particular debt by half. Seeing him in conversation with George Sweet made him wonder if his cousin somehow knew the estate was in financial trouble. “Just keeping abreast of current events,” he promised Amity, though his eyes returned to George.

It was hard to tell what George Sweet knew at any one time, but he was clearly enjoying acting the generous host today and making it seem he had the ear of the current duke. He’d always been the jealous sort, especially toward Algernon, and spiteful to everyone else. When he embraced young Edwin Aston, Stratford’s stomach soured even more.

Stratford had once wanted to be Edwin’s friend.

Seeing the friendly exchange with George made him glad they hardly ever had occasion to be in each other’s company these days.

Young Edwin Aston was a big man, barrel-chested and robust, but with eyes so bloodshot from excessive drinking they sometimes seemed to be burning. He lived a life of excess and belligerence, much like George.

The elder Aston was a smaller man, wiry in form. Stratford did not know him at all well, so he studied the way he behaved with Cousin George, storing up the information to relay to his brother later. Aston spoke quietly with authority, suggesting he was a man in control of his emotions at all times. Quite the opposite to his old friend, Stratford’s late father.

But they had been the best of friends for ages, since before Stratford had even been born. Why else would he loan Father so much money over the years?

Stratford dug his finger under his collar. Aston was the last complication they needed this week.

He noted a few cousins push their chairs back to greet the newcomers, and young Edwin Aston was drawn away with them. Stratford would undoubtedly have to speak with Edwin later in the day, but he was not in a rush to do so. The few times their paths had crossed in society in recent years, it had seemed Edwin preferred not to remember the time they’d spent together as children.

That had stung.

It wasn’t often Stratford was confronted by an acquaintance who ignored him. But Edwin had changed too much since they were boys, playing together on the Aston estate, for him to regret it now. Edwin Aston was a connection, a friendship, he would never want to resurrect.

George Sweet followed after Edwin, calling to him to wait.

With the room emptier, Stratford stood and approached Mr. Aston with his hand extended. “Good morning, sir,” he exclaimed. “We are so pleased you could join us this year.”

With such a loud remark, how could Aston refuse to admit to similar pleasure at being at Ravenswood once more? But he remained silent, and their exchange quickly became awkward. The elder Aston wasn’t given for small talk, it seemed.

On the previous occasions they’d encountered each other, Aston had focused his attention on Stratford’s late father and no one else. With Father gone, and the family still in mourning, he seemed a little distant, but he supposed that was to be expected after losing a long-held friendship.

Stratford decided he should try a little harder to engage him in chatter. But a footman interrupted and offered to fetch the man coffee, and then a selection of delicacies from the sideboard. Stratford bided his time as Aston studied the plate of food and made his choices with careful consideration.

Eventually he caught Aston’s eye. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

“Indeed, we did,” he promised.

“Will you be joining us for the early morning shoot tomorrow?”

“Alas, my eyes are not as they once were and prevent me from enjoying my favorite country pursuits.” Aston pushed his coddled eggs around on his plate and then gave up. “But I’m sure my son will join you.”