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Chapter Eight
Ashford had tried to be discreet in his observation of Lady Vigilia throughout the seemingly interminable supper, but he knew she had been aware of his gaze at least a couple times. He hadn’t been able to read her expression when their eyes met, as she had a slightly strained countenance during the entire meal. That didn’t change on the few occasions their gazes encountered one another. If anything, it seemed to worsen. But Ash couldn’t say if she was disturbed to find him watching her or uncomfortable with his knowledge that she was uncomfortable.
It was gratifying for him to know she was aware of him. And he was relieved to note that she didn’t seem enamoured with Lord Bertram. But there were still two weeks ahead of them. He knew he had his work cut out for him to engage her interest. It would be especially difficult with Bertram present. Ash sipped his port and tried not to allow his disquiet to display itself as their host chatted about the various sport they would enjoy that week.
“It isn’t really the time of year for any particular hunting,” Crossley was saying. “But we do keep the grounds stocked with game, if anyone would care to do some shooting.”
“I’ve heard your property is extensive, Cross,” Sir Bronson commented. “Is it true we can ride for days without leaving your grounds?”
The earl laughed. “My grounds are extensive, but you’d have to be riding in circles to ride for days without leaving them.” The rest of the gentlemen laughed as the young baronet blushed. Crossley took pity on him. “Have no fear, Bronson, there will be plenty of riding, if that is your pleasure. The scenery is varied around here between forests, dales, and coastal crags. I might be slightly partial, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy it immensely.” The laughter continued, but it was pleasant and good natured.
Ash watched the byplay, pleased that no one seemed in a hurry to be hurtful. If not for Bertram, this would have been a most pleasant party.
“Tell me, Lord Clifton, how do you know Bertram? I noticed you rode up to Crossley together.”
Ashford had wanted to know but hadn’t expected to hear their host ask in front of everyone. Clearly, the easy-going earl wasn’t as oblivious as some might think.
The younger man look startled to have all eyes trained upon him, and his cheeks coloured with embarrassment. His eyes flew toward the other man in question, as though looking for direction. Bertram’s face remained impassive, offering him no assistance.
“Oh, well, we’ve known each other since we were boys, my lord. He went to school with my brother. Doesn’t everyone know Lord Bertram? He’s received everywhere.” Lord Clifton stumbled and stammered his way through his explanation but concluded on an almost defiant note.
“Sure, sure,” Crossley agreed genially. “I just hadn’t expected to see him this week, to be honest.”
Now both gentlemen in question looked uncomfortable, as did the rest of the men seated at the table, to various degrees. The earl allowed a slight pause to descend over them before he shrugged and laughed. “I suppose it will be Bertram’s place to entertain us then, won’t it?”
Lord Bertram had looked as though he were trying to hide his discomfort through the start of this conversation, but Crossley’s final words ended his effort, and he began to stammer out a reply, but the earl interrupted him.
“You needn’t start just yet, Bertram, we’ll give you time to think of something,” he assured the discomfited man with a chuckle.
Ashford was impressed with the earl’s handling of the situation. He knew it might be awkward for him to ask the man to leave, which is certainly what the bounder had been counting on. But calling him out on his blunder of arriving to a house party without an invitation put the other man on notice that he would be watched, and that the earl wasn’t impressed with Bertram’s actions. It also confirmed for Ash that Bertram had, in fact, not been invited, which had been his concern. He had serious issues with the man and didn’t want them to interfere with his pursuits here at the party. Knowing Crossley was unimpressed with Bertram, too, would make it easier to deal with the complications, at least Ash hoped so.
Finally, after the conversation had begun to resume, Crossley allowed his tumbler to drop to the table with a louder than necessary thunk, drawing all eyes toward him. He stood and smiled. “Shall we join the ladies and keep them out of mischief?”
With chuckles and a good deal of swift scraping of chairs, the gentlemen rose and quickly exited the dining room, eager to join the women and whatever festivities Lady Crossley had planned.
“You’ll help me keep an eye on things, won’t you, Northcott?” Crossley asked quietly as they were the last to leave the room.
Ash was surprised by the request but swiftly nodded his agreement.
“I knew you could be counted on,” the earl added with a grin and a genial slap on the back.
~~~
Vicky nearly groaned as the clatter heralding the arrival of the gentlemen was followed by the arrival of Lord Bertram at the front of the pack as the men flooded into the room with a great deal of boisterous laughter and jostling. She nearly rolled her eyes. Clearly, the footmen had been generous in their service of the port. When Lord Bertram took the seat next to her, it became even more difficult to suppress her groan of distaste.
“Do you know what her ladyship has planned for the evening?”
“I believe card tables are to be set up, and Miss Smythe has agreed to entertain us on the pianoforte.”
“Ah, lovely,” he replied. “Will you be playing for us, as well?”
“I can assure you, I’d be far less enjoyable to listen to than Miss Smythe.”
“Don’t be so modest, my lady.”
“It is realism, not modesty, my lord,” Vicky concluded firmly, with no desire to entertain his cajolery. She hesitated to remind him of his wish to speak with her privately. She didn’t want to imply an intimacy with him that did not exist, nor did she have any desire to cultivate his potential interest in her. But she also didn’t want to have it hanging over her for days if Crossley didn’t ask him to leave. With a little sigh, she finally spoke. “You mentioned you had something of import to tell me?” Her voice lifted in a question, despite trying to be decisive in her statement.
“Yes, but I’m not sure if it should be said here.”
