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“I was here at home when I proposed to Isobel and she accepted,” Thomas said, “so I wouldn’t know.”
“What more can you tell us about her?” his father asked.
“She recently inherited a farm of two hundred acres.”
“An heiress, eh?” His father nodded. “Well, that is something, at least. Land is always a valuable asset.”
“Land is an asset when it’s thriving and profitable, Father. Unfortunately, the farm has not been maintained the past few years, and there is a great deal of work to be done, so I shouldn’t think of her as an heiress in the typical sense, and I didn’t propose marriage to her based on that anyway.”
“It would seem she has plenty of other assets from which to choose,” Thomas said.
“Thomas,” Father said reprovingly.
“Have a care, Thomas,” Lucas warned, feeling protective and surprisingly possessive of Lavinia. “I have an affection for the lady.”
“My apologies.” Thomas stood and moved to lean against the fireplace mantel.
“But Thomas’s comments raise an important concern, Lucas, if I may be allowed to speak freely on the matter,” Isaac said.
Lucas waved his hand. “Fire away.”
“Thomas’s words illustrate something you must be prepared to deal with if you marry the lady.” Isaac paused before continuing. “How shall I put this? Your Miss Fernley’s looks speak more of sinner than of saint.”
“She cannot help the features with which she was born, Isaac,” Lucas said. “Any more than I can help that you and I—and Father and Thomas, for that matter—are over six feet tall and have varying shades of brown hair.”
His father reached over and laid a hand on Lucas’s arm. “True enough, son. Of course it is true. But that will not stop men from looking or women from wagging their tongues. And sadly, in our so-called genteel society, many men take mistresses at their whim. Even in marriage, your Miss Fernley may be considered fair play by men of lesser character.”
“I understand fully and accept your counsel and thank you for it,” Lucas said. “I shall bear it in mind. But I will not have Lavinia feel subjected to such judgment while at Alderwood.” He locked eyes with Thomas.
“Of course not,” Thomas said and sipped his brandy. “She will be welcomed with open arms. Just not too open, obviously.” He set down his empty glass. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Finch. Duty calls.”
“And I must check on Clara,” Isaac said. He clasped Lucas’s hand. “It’s good to have you home at last and see for ourselves that you are well. I, for one, am greatly relieved.” He followed Thomas out the door.
Once he and his father were alone, Lucas spoke. “There is one other matter I wish to discuss with you, Father, if I may,” he said. “I would ask for your advice regarding Lavinia’s farm. It is called Primrose Farm, ten or so miles north of here. Have you heard of it?”
“Primrose Farm.” His father’s brow furrowed in thought. “The old Harrison place? Haven’t thought of it in years. That’s hers now, is it?”
“Yes, and nobody has thought about it much, from the looks of it,” Lucas said. “It’s time someone did.”
“I should have taught all my boys something of managing an estate, not just Thomas, despite the fact that I had only one estate and five sons who needed livings. I’ll do my best to help you and your Miss Fernley with her farm. We can discuss it further tomorrow, and I’m sure Thomas and Finch would be agreeable to helping as well. In the meantime, however, I suggest you get reacquainted with your ancestral home,” his father said, rising to his feet. “Go settle in and rest.”
Lucas rose as well. “Thank you, Father. It is truly good to be home at last.”
He went to his old room, which felt familiar and strange at the same time. He’d been a mere boy when he’d been here last. He was a man now—a man who’d seen more of the world than he wished.
He lay on his bed and propped his hands behind his head in thought. He still felt indignation on Lavinia’s behalf over the comments his father and brothers had made, especially Thomas’s ribald ones. Had she been subjected to such judgments her entire life? Had men always viewed her as easy prey? Had women always assumed she was a wanton and a threat? He dearly hoped not—but he also remembered how thunderstruck he himself had been when he’d seen her without her disguise for the first time. He’d had the good fortune of being introduced to her beauty incrementally, but even seeing her today in her burgundy traveling gown with her radiant hair styled atop her head had stopped him in his tracks.
Oh, no, he was not immune to her either.
He also hadn’t missed the fact that Miss Weston and Mr. Drake had referred to themselves as her cousins this afternoon, when Lavinia had told him herself that they were associates of her father. Of course, Lucas had lied about his own relationship with Lavinia, so he wasn’t about to judge.
It was time he told them he’d figured out that they were actors—Miss Weston and Mr. Drake definitely were, with her dramatic fainting spells and Drake’s spouting Shakespeare and Marlowe every other minute. Miss Broome was decidedlynotan actor; she looked as though she would crack into pieces if anyone looked at her for longer than a minute.
If the older couple were associates of Lavinia’s father, it meant he’d been an actor. And if he’d been an actor . . . it was only logical that Lavinia had become one.
When he’d called her his betrothed this afternoon—well,thathad been a moment to behold. She’d transformed from the Lavinia he’d come to know the past few days into alady, a true lady of genteel birth and training. A remarkable transformation it had been.
Oh, yes, she was definitely an actress too.
He knew well enough that actresses were part of the demimonde. Decent people did not mingle with such individuals. He wondered what his parents—not to mention his vicar of a brother—would think if they were to discoverthe truth.
