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“Not if they ran counter to hers,” His Lordship warned.
Stephen shrugged. “Araminta clearly loves the Grange and I think I could spend the bulk of my time in the country if I had an agreeable wife. I like the insects here,” he added as an afterthought. “Odd, I know, but I think I’d have been quite content to study them instead of wildly pursuing London revels. I shall be quite the eccentric in a few years.”
“Come now. You have more ambition than that. You’re a clever man. But Araminta would have demanded you take her to London on her terms. You’ve been spared that, at least.” Lord Partington deliberated before adding, “You’ll have to stay another ten days at least.”
“Why’s that?”
“The house party. It’s been arranged. Floppy Ledger’s son and some of his cronies will be coming to stay.” At Stephen’s frown he went on, “To run the spiders, of course. You need to pay your debt or prove it’s he who owes you a thousand. Given your knowledge of our arachnid friends I’m looking forward to watching young Ledger hoisted on his own petard.” He looked serious. “I want to see you leave here in the best possible position now that you’re out on your ear thanks to Edgar’s luck in dodging the bullet that should have got him.”
* * * * *
Never had Sybil so desperately desired anyone to extend their visit—a far cry from when Humphry had first announced his plans to introduce the “new heir”.
Stephen had represented her failure. But to be replaced by caper-witted Edgar now threatened the fabric of existence.
And Edgar’s greatest crime? He was breaking Hetty’s heart.
Sybil was spying on them from the Long Gallery, sitting on the cushioned window seat, pretending to read a book but surreptitiously studying the young people in the distance.
Of course it was wrong, but she was desperate that her youngest daughter find the happiness she so deserved. If only Edgar were stronger and realized Araminta would have him for breakfast. Instead, right there in front of her, Hetty’s disillusionment was turning into utter devastation.
The now familiar scenario was being played over again. In the walkway below the Long Gallery Sybil watched Hetty and Edgar gravitate naturally toward one another. She saw the easy pleasure in their greeting and their amiable manner in taking a seat to chat in the arbor between the ornamental pear trees.
She’d not realized she’d exclaimed aloud until Stephen made his presence known. “Spying, Lady Partington?” He sounded amused, so while she was aware of her blushes she was able to smile back at him.
“A concerned mama will afford herself any opportunity if she’s able to justify it as that...rather than prurient interest.”
“I think most of us are guilty of both from time to time.” He took up position at her left shoulder and together they watched Araminta join her sister and cousin, her smile directed at Edgar.
Hetty, who had until then been the focus of Edgar’s animated chatter, turned at her sister’s intrusion. Her smile was in place but her worried expression revealed her feelings.
Stephen lowered his head and asked Sybil softly, “Do you think Cousin Hetty understands what’s happening?”
Sybil was surprised by his perspicacity and his boldness in articulating such a question. Now, he was going and she was sorry for it, though he’d have no idea just how sorry.
“I’m surprised your comment concerns Hetty when I thought Araminta was the daughter of most interest to you.” She raised her eyebrows inquiringly. “Surely you consider yourself a more enticing candidate than her cousin Edgar?”
“Oh, I know I am,” he answered with assurance. “I’m sorry to see my inheritance go and if I thought Miss Araminta’s ten thousand would make me happy I’d do all I could to persuade her out of her determination to become mistress of the Grange at any cost.”
Sybil’s heart was already in the process of disintegrating when he added, “She’s too young to see that she’ll make them all unhappy: Hetty, Edgar and not least, herself. You do know, of course, that there’s no way Hetty will win this. Araminta will succeed in wresting Edgar’s affections from Hetty with the merest crook of her finger. It’s clear Edgar is that kind of man.”
Sybil nodded sadly. “Edgar is not very clever and he’s terribly susceptible to flattery.” She rubbed her eyes. “Araminta will marry Edgar before two months is up, I know it. She was prepared to forgo the season to marry you, Cousin Stephen.” She blushed then added, “Perhaps that was premature since you’d not offered. Yet you gave every indication. Are you desperately disappointed?”
He angled his body closer. Very close, she noted, but then he’d always seemed very comfortable with her. “I’m desperately disappointed not to be inheriting all this.” He gave an expressive sweep of his arm. “But I’m not desperately disappointed that I’m not marrying Cousin Araminta.” He hesitated. “I would have, though, and happily enough, if that’s what she wanted.”
“So your heart is not engaged elsewhere? I was afraid Araminta completely overlooked the possibility, that you had perhaps met a worthy young lady in your travels but decided the benefits of marrying Araminta outweighed those earlier considerations.”
“No, no, I’m not the kind to put ambition above the workings of my heart. That said, I’ve never really been in love, I don’t think. Nevertheless, I have admired many women. You included, Lady Partington.”
She didn’t think she’d been more surprised in her life and was conscious of her virtual squeak as she responded.
It seemed to amuse him and he went on, “You don’t, of course, do yourself the justice you deserve. Araminta wouldn’t be nearly so desirable if her self-confidence were stripped away. It’s poor Hetty’s problem. Look how pretty she looked when she was talking to Edgar.”
Sybil nodded sadly and Stephen added with a shrug, “My mother was a confident beauty. More confident, perhaps, than beautiful, but men are drawn to women who believe in themselves.”
“You seem older than your years,” Sybil murmured. She studied the young man beside her with renewed admiration.
“And you seem younger than yours.”
