Page 17 of Miss Devon’s Choice

“Yes, yes. Why men must grow to such unnatural heights, we will never know.” Gilbert was an average height for a gentleman, but obviously stature was a jest between them. It had been years since Christian had shared such amusement with anyone.

Gilbert turned his attention to Christian. “I think King Lud will suit you well.”

Naming what looked to be a Spanish horse after a legendary English king struck him as odd, but Christian nodded his acceptance and mounted. Then he gave Ajax, who had remained exactly where Christian left him, the command to heel. His dog’s tail flew high as a flag as they began their ride. Christian followed behind the earl and his future brother-in-law, far enough back to avoid intruding on their conversation. The men had started talking the moment they were underway.

Not long after they left the house behind, going around the back of the estate and away from the lake, the earl looked over his shoulder.

“Easton, join us, won’t you?”

Christian nudged his horse forward. He tried to keep his hold relaxed but it was difficult, given the way his whole body tensed on being addressed.

“I am at your service, my lord,” Christian said, drawing even with the two riders.

“Call me Annesbury,” the earl said, surprising Christian with the slightest of smiles. “We’re to be family soon enough. Thomas and I were just discussing your upcoming nuptials. I could not recall—what date has been settled upon?”

“September eighteenth,” Christian answered without hesitation. The date had been seared into his mind. It was the first Sunday after three weeks of reading the banns that his grandfather and her father could both be in Kettering. It would be the day his life changed, irrevocably—again.

Gilbert’s eyebrows drew downward. “My wife has wondered about their eldest sister, Mrs. Hastings. Julia.”

Ah, the sister who had married a physician, in Bath. What had she to do with his wedding date?

The two men with him exchanged a glance and the earl looked down, fiddling with the reins, while Gilbert cleared his throat.

“We are in an interesting position, Easton. Julia Hastings has been told she is not welcome in her father’s home or presence. It’s created something of a strain on the whole family, and the sisters, especially.”

This was news to Christian. “Is the reason for this exclusion too delicate for you to name?” he asked. Surely, a man would have to have good reason to cut off his own daughter. While Christian’s father had sent him away, it had not been with any sort of permanency. In the ton such a thing might happen on occasion, but only after the severest infractions against society were committed.

“It isn’t delicate at all,” Annesbury said, his voice low. “She married a man of whom her father did not approve. Doctor Nathaniel Hastings, a younger son of a country baron. He hasn’t the connections that would’ve made him a desirable son-in-law.”

An unequal alliance. How many times had he heard his grandfather utter those words, derisively, almost as if they were a curse, every time the old earl spoke of Christian’s mother and father? It was a thing abhorred by the ton, by people with status and authority. The words had been branded into Christian’s mind and heart. He could not even think of his mother without also calling to mind his grandfather’s sneer.

Gilbert spoke into the silence, his expression solemn. “My wife is concerned, Easton, so I am concerned. Julia practically raised Rebecca after their mother died. The sisters have always been close. The unspoken rule is that Julia cannot attend the wedding.” Gilbert shifted in his saddle. “Rebecca will not dare to invite her sister to visit, either. My wife has chosen to do so. If Julia and her husband accept the invitation, they will arrive next week.”

“Out of respect for Mr. Devon’s wishes,” the earl said, each word dripping with disdain, “and their aunt’s attendance to the house party, Mrs. Hastings cannot be invited to my home during that time.”

Christian let out a breath, thinking through the implications of their conversation. “What would you have me do?” he asked, turning his eyes to the trees and hills beyond them.

Recollections of his family’s history did not make the conversation easier, though they did evoke a measure of sympathy.

“Support Rebecca,” Gilbert said. “Or at least, do not hinder her in relation to her sister. It is important to her, to all of them, to maintain their bond.”

“I would also appreciate your delicacy on the matter,” the earl added, authority in his voice. It could not be plainer that he was making the request and offering his favor in exchange.

Politics entering family matters. That was England, through and through.

“I understand,” Christian said, the enjoyment of the morning ride all but fled. “I have no wish to cause Miss Devon, or the other ladies, any pain. I look forward to meeting Mrs. Hastings.” He tried to speak lightly, but the words came out flatter than he intended.

“Thank you,” Gilbert said, his expression relaxing into a relieved smile. “That is good of you, especially given the newness of your betrothal to Rebecca.”

Christian said nothing. He nodded once, stiffly, and shifted his focus to Ajax. The dog had taken their pause as permission to sniff about. With a short whistle, Christian called the dog back. Ears perked up and tail wagging, Ajax bounded over the grass toward them.

“That is an exceptionally well-trained dog.” The compliment came from the earl. “A Vizsla?”

Gilbert chuckled before Christian could answer. “Careful, Easton. He’ll want to know the whole pedigree and whether you’ve ever considered breeding him.”

The earl grinned, the expression broader and more honest than any Christian had seen from the man yet. “If I note a fine animal, it needn’t necessarily follow that I try to take its posterity for myself.”

“Trouble indeed, Easton,” Gilbert said with a mock shudder. “He thinks your dog to be fine. Flee now, while you can.”