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“This is all a waste of time,” he announced, rising to his feet. “I am going out for a ride.”
In truth he felt as if he was trapped here in London. He needed the open fields and the sweet air and the sky before him. He wasn’t sure how he was going to cope with living in the city for so many months at a time, and he only hoped that Evelyn would decide Pendleton was somewhere she could reside for most of the year.
Adam began to eat his way through another piled plate. As Harry reached the door he turned, unable to help himself, and said, “Why didn’t you tell me that you’d seen Sophy in Hyde Park, Adam? You could have warned me.”
Adam looked up, and then he smirked. “Did you need warning?” he asked. “I thought it was all over with her and Evelyn was your future?”
“Don’t be a cock.”
Adam sniggered. Then shrugged. “I don’t know why. She looked so …well, you know Sophy. I always liked her. Loved her, maybe. Like a sister,” he quickly added. “I felt sorry for her.”
“So you sent her my way,” Harry said. “Well, don’t do it again, Adam. Next time you happen to run into her tell her she is no longer welcome.”
“Yes, sir,” he feigned a salute, and then dropped his hand and watched his brother warily as he left.
Harry called for a servant, asking for his horse to be brought around. He needed to blow the cobwebs out of his brain, and with them all thoughts of Sophy.
Adam was more sentimental than he pretended if he felt sorry for Sophy. Sophy did not care for Harry, and he sure as hell no longer cared for her. Again he reminded himself that he couldn’t afford to doubt himself or his actions. He couldn’t afford to let in the slightest hint of uncertainty. Because if ever he began to believe that he was wrong … that Sophy was innocent and had never stopped loving him ... that he had been the one to give up on her, and not the other way around …
He suspected his life would slowly and surely collapse around him.
The ride did him good. When he changed and arrived at Evelyn’s house an hour later, he was in much better spirits. Albury House was one of the most beautiful houses in Mayfair, but although he could admire it with the cold eye of a connoisseur he did not love it like he did Pendleton. Pendleton with all its quirks, including the lopsided tower that wasn’t going to fall down but sometimes looked like it might. He would never exchange one for the other, but he wouldn’t tell Evelyn that. She was justifiably proud of her family home.
He was shown into the drawing room, and saw at once that he wasn’t the only one paying a morning visit. Evelyn smiled at him over her teacup, while her mother gave him a ‘How do you do, Harry!’ As if he was already one of the family.
There was a gaggle of young cousins he had met before, who blushed and twittered at his entrance. And then there was Digby.
Although he had seen his old school friend since the incident at Christmas years ago, he hadn’t engaged him in any sort of conversation. In short, they were no longer friends. Now, seeing him sitting in Evelyn’s drawing room brought him to a stop, his hackles rising.
“Do you know the Honourable Digby Abbott?” Evelyn’s mother asked. “His father was a friend of my late husband, and his brother James …” She glanced quickly at Evelyn. “Well, Digby was in town and is joining us for dinner tonight.”
“I do know him,” Harry said. He bowed and so did Digby. His old friend had a smirk on his face, as if his sudden appearance had had the effect he intended. “We went to school together.”
“Best of friends,” Digby agreed. “For a year or two.”
“Oh?” Evelyn glanced between them. “What happened? Did you fall out?”
“Evelyn,” her mother reproved her. Lady Helen seemed to believe her daughter was in need of a great many reproofs. Not that Evelyn cared. That was one of the things Harry liked about her—she had a mind of her own.
“We drifted apart,” Harry said quickly, before Digby could answer. And was relieved when the subject was changed soon after.
He was also glad when Digby left shortly afterwards, although he had to remind himself that his former friend would be at the dinner the family were holding tonight. Still, he would do his best to avoid him beside the usual civilities. He certainly didn’t want to discuss Sophy Harcourt and the night he gave Digby the thrashing he deserved. Another memory that needed to be relegated to the past.
Harry had arranged to take Evelyn for a ride in the park before luncheon, and he stood waiting outside the house until she joined him. He was wearing his new brown coat, square-cut, which he’d been assured was currently the height of fashion.
Evelyn’s outfit was perfect as usual—a white and pink high-waisted muslin dress with long sleeves. Her capote hat had feathers dipping from the crown. She looked up at him, her dark eyes luminous, her cheeks flushed and pink lips smiling.
Harry felt a ripple of satisfaction. He was a lucky man. No more contemplating the past, he told himself one last time. That was over and done.
He reached for her gloved hand and helped her into the vehicle, waving aside the groom who would have assisted. She was even more flushed by the time she was seated. Had she noticed him admiring her curvaceous figure?
They set off, chatting about this and that as the horses trotted over the cobbles toward the park. After his furious ride this morning, Harry was content to dawdle with his fiancé.
“I got the impression you don’t like Digby,” she said, after a short silence.
Surprised, Harry looked over at her. They had just entered the gates and the treed lawn with its many walks and riding tracks lay before them. “What makes you say that?”
She smiled and glanced away. “I know that look you were giving him. Your ‘displeased’ look.”
