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Which was all the more reason, he thought now, for toying with someone who was decidedly the opposite. Sweetness held far more dangers than all-out brazenness, so with a flourish he said, “Would you honor me with the first dance tonight at the Duchess of Kilmore’s rout?”
With a flutter of eyelashes, Miss Partington made her pleasure clear though her acceptance was restrained and her smile calculating. “Indeed. A gentleman must atone for the disappointment he renders a lady. Ah, but there is my cousin Stephen.”
She summoned her cousin with a wave and Sir Aubrey was surprised by the coolness of the young man’s reception and his pointed tone when he informed Sir Aubrey that he was recently employed by the Foreign Office.
Clearly something didn’t reflect well on Aubrey, judging by Mr. Cranbourne’s darkling look and the censure in his tone when he remarked, “And why, Araminta, am I not surprised to see you here?”
Clearly he meant on Aubrey’s arm rather than in Hyde Park, and Aubrey sensed she’d been warned to keep her distance from him. Aha. So Mr. Cranbourne had conveyed to her the suspicions that surrounded him following Margaret’s death. The fact that Miss Partington had lured him into the shadows for a fleeting kiss a few nights before suggested she enjoyed taking risks. He’d cursed his foolishness almost immediately afterward, for had they been discovered she’d quite likely now be gaily planning their wedding.
Yet would that be a disaster? He’d decided to take a wife this season and minutes ago she was among the candidates.
But he would not be tricked into it.
“What business distracts you from pleasure-seeking, Cousin Stephen?” she asked after saying a cursory farewell to her friend, who’d sought out more receptive pastures. “I see you have only just arrived…and looking so serious too.”
“I was on my way home after a challenging day working at Foreign Office.”
Sir Aubrey affected a sympathetic frown. “With traitors hiding under the most unlikely beds, you’d not know where to start looking.”
Young Cranbourne’s creased brow made clear his remark was not well received, as did his muttered, “We know where to look, Sir Aubrey.” He offered Miss Partington his arm. “Araminta, your mother will be leaving London soon. She expressed the wish only this morning to spend more time with you before her departure.”
Miss Partington inclined her head. “Until we meet again, Sir Aubrey,” said the young minx with a glint in her eye. “You’d better not forget your promise.”
* * * * *
After rounding a bend in the path, Araminta glanced up at Stephen and asked sweetly, “Why, whatever is the matter, cuz?”
Since Stephen had arrived some months earlier at The Grange to learn his duties as viscount-in-waiting, he’d come to know Araminta and her sister well. Although he was a great deal fonder of young Hetty, he felt responsible for curtailing Araminta’s excesses where he could. “You know very well.” He raised an eyebrow and frowned. “Sir Aubrey is up to his ears in the business that led to his brother-in-law’s death, not to mention his wife’s. He may look one of us but his sympathies lie with those who would turn England on her head and spark the kind of revolution we saw only too recently in France. The rumors are rife that he was involved in the attempted assassination of Lord Castlereagh.”
“Then why isn’t such a dangerous man behind bars?”
Stephen shook his head as he studied her serene profile. “Lord, but you can be provoking, Araminta. Everything I say to make clear Sir Aubrey is not a man to trifle with—much less associate with—only makes him more of a candidate for your attentions.” He broke off, his expression clearing as he saw Hetty and Sybil advancing toward them at a leisurely pace. Under his breath, he growled, “You’d be advised to take a leaf out of your sister’s book. At least she is wise enough to heed my cautions.”
“Hetty does not receive the kind of attention that gives her the opportunity to disregard your cautions, Cousin Stephen,” Araminta replied as her cousin greeted the pair who were now upon them.
“Ah, Hetty…and Sybil! My dear, is it wise for you to be out at this advanced stage?”
He halted as the girls turned curious looks upon him. Of course his concern was not usual for a young man and they would never understand the deep feelings he felt for their darling, sweet mother. Feelings which, he was glad to say, were reciprocated. A great welling-up of affection made it hard for him to act as propriety demanded but he resisted the urge to kiss her.
Laughing, she stroked his shoulder. To outsiders it would be the affection of a matron for her husband’s cousin and—until her child was born—heir to the estate of which she was mistress.
He cleared his throat, enjoying her touch but not responding to it. They were in a public place and he was always mindful of protecting Sybil’s reputation. Sir Humphry only condoned their clandestine love on the basis they were discreet. “I fear Araminta has been consorting with Sir Aubrey, a dangerous man as I’ve told you. A mother’s caution may perhaps hold more weight than a mere cousin’s.”
The lovely Sybil raised her eyebrows. “Do you really believe him so dangerous, Stephen?”
“Perhaps Sir Aubrey is unfairly maligned, Cousin Stephen,” Hetty suggested.
Araminta patted her sister’s arm and said with a smile, “For once I’m in complete accord, Hetty.”
“Not you too.” Stephen was surprised at the combative glint in Hetty’s eye. “Pray tell, what might you know about Sir Aubrey and his proclivities?”
“Proclivities?” she repeated faintly. “I…I’ve met him a couple of times and he seemed…very nice.”
“Yes, he is very nice, isn’t he, Hetty?” Araminta looked approvingly at her sister. “You should have heard the pretty compliments he paid me on my silk dress and how it matched my eyes when he brought me champagne at Lady Knox’s ball.”
Stephen noticed Hetty’s blush and felt sorry for her. Beside Araminta she’d always be eclipsed. That said, he knew which sister he’d prefer. Hetty was utterly charming. Sweet and self-effacing, and though she’d never be a beauty…
He halted the reflection and sent her another appraising look. Hetty’s color and complexion were much improved since she’d come to London. In fact, she looked blooming.
