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Honoria’s lips curved into a tiny smile. “You make it sound more like I’m looking for a new English Spaniel puppy.”
Priscilla’s hand flew to her mouth, seconds too late to stifle the giggle. “I suppose I did. But I do understand what you’re saying. I, too, hoped for the type of match others have found, one filled with passion. We have only to witness the affection of our hosts to see that it’s possible.”
Both women sighed as they turned their attention to Beatrix and Laurence. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, and her hand rested on his chest, her fingers stroking him affectionately.
“Lord Nash appears to have taken an interest,” Honoria said, her attention returning to Priscilla. “Do you think something will come of it?”
“No. Not that I wish it would. However, he’s been inordinately kind to me, and I will be forever grateful.”
Honoria nodded. “As I am to Dr. Marbry. The question remains. Do we wait, or do we settle?”
That, indeed, was the question. “I can’t answer for you. But I believe I have no choice but to settle.”
* * *
Ensconcedin a comfortable chair in the reading room at White’s, Timothy poured himself a well-deserved brandy while he waited for Laurence. The burn of the amber liquid did little to ease the taut frustration banding his chest.
The image of Nash kissing Priscilla’s hand, the echo of his promise to call upon her on the morrow, pinged in his mind like a musket ball ricocheting against metal. Where in the devil was Laurence?
He took another healthy sip of the liquor, Honoria’s strange words joining the ranks to torture him.
“Perhaps she is not the only one who needs to consider what is most important.”
Surely she was not implying that he didn’t know his own mind? He was well aware of his duty—of what mattered. He needed a wife—eventually. A respectable wife with a healthy purse.
More than his family coffers needed restoration, his father’s notorious large gaming debt had also sullied the family’s reputation. Not to mention the depths to which his father sank, arranging a marriage for Beatrix to Lord Middlebury to expunge the debt. If it hadn’t been for Laurence, both Bea and their family’s financial security would have been lambs to the slaughter. Their family’s still-suffering reputation was another matter entirely.
And above all, Timothy needed a wife with whom he would not fall in love. Succumbing to love opened a man to the subsequent grief and guilt left in its wake. He vowed never to repeat the experience and to protect his heart at all costs. That, in his estimation, was truly what mattered most.
No, Honoria certainly could not have been speaking of him.
He downed the remainder of the brandy and set the glass aside as Laurence entered the room. “It’s about time.”
Laurence raised a brow. “Nothing prevented you from playing without me. There are a number of other people willing and able to take your blunt.”
“This was your bloody idea.”
“You’ve been in a foul mood since your run-in with Catpurrnicus. Surely a little cat isn’t the sole cause of your foul humor.”
“First of all, thatthingis a demon in disguise. And no, I will admit he’s not the only reason.”
They strolled into the card room, and Laurence settled himself at a table with two empty seats. “A woman, then.”
“It’s always a woman,” Lord Harcourt said, shuffling the cards.
“You don’t even know what we were talking about,” Timothy said, peeved that the man contributed to a conversation of which he was not a part.
Harcourt chuckled. “Don’t have to. When a man has such a look of utter confusion on his face as you do, Marbry, the only logical reason is a woman.”
Lord Trentwith, who occupied the other seat, chimed in, “I have to agree. Now, are you going to shuffle those cards all day, Harcourt, or are we going to play?”
Harcourt began dealing. “Don’t mind Trentwith. He’s anxious to take someone else’s money. Middlebury just left in a huff, having lost twenty pounds, and Highbottom hightailed his way out after him.”
“Bea was disappointed to receive your regrets to our party today, Trentwith, as she was yours, Harcourt.”
“Sabina isn’t comfortable around society, and I refuse to go anywhere socially without her.” Trentwith winked. “Except here, of course, but since White’s doesn’t allow women, well . . .” He shrugged.
“I volunteered to look after the children for Camilla and Oliver,” Harcourt said. “Victoria has proclaimed she’s too old for a nanny.”
