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“Yes,” she insisted. “I will admit that your reception has been frosty, but you are here and haven’t started an inkling of scandal. They will grow tired of you eventually if you keep it up.”
“You have a point, but there is one thing you are not accounting for.”
She peered up at him with wide, curious green eyes, and he fought not to lose himself in their depths. “Oh?”
“Yes. My—”
“Dalton!” James froze at the slurred greeting and turned in the direction of the voice.
“Speak of the devil,” he murmured, his stomach sinking at the sight of his mother cheerily stumbling past a red-faced Lady Filburk and making a beeline for them. Why the woman seemed so happy to see him, James did not know, especially given that she’d barred the front door of his townhome the last time he’d attempted a visit.
“Oh, dear.” Lady Aircourt tightened her grip on him with a concerned frown.
“Oh, dear indeed.” And then, just when he thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, a man trotted up to Lady Dalton and looped her arm through his before she could trip on the grass, obviously her companion. But it wasn’t the fact that she seemed to be attending a Ton event on the arm of a man mere months after the death of her husband. No, he thought with quiet, cold fury, it was the fact that said man was Baron Wardely.
“What in the world are you two doing here?” he all but hissed as the couple stopped before them.
“Enjoying the party, of course,” his mother replied, her blue eyes glassy with inebriation. Despite being so obviously foxed, his mother still made for a becoming sight, even in middle age. Both he and Sophie had gotten their striking looks from her, and he supposed that was what had drawn his father to her in the first place, that and their mutual like for dissolute living.
“Your mother wanted to see you,” Wardely chimed in. The baron nodded to Lady Aircourt. “Good Afternoon, My Lady.”
“I cannot imagine you were invited,” she replied, her lips pursing in displeasure. It appeared even she had her limits where cordiality was concerned.
“Well, I merely stated that you had asked us to accompany you, my boy. Dear Lady Filburk wasn’t going to start a scene in front of everyone, now was she?” His mother giggled, apparently charmed by her own scheming.
“Leave before you ruin me even more than you already have.” James could already see that they’d become a spectacle. Lady Filburk alone looked like she wanted to gut him like a fish.
“When we have only just arrived?” Wardely raised an eyebrow that he surely thought made him look clever.
“If you speak to me again, cur, I’ll do far more than hurl a glove at you. Perhaps I should let Amberwood know you are back in town. Though I suppose you will flee like the coward you are. Again.”
The man paled at the mention of his near duel with James’s brother-in-law, one that Wardely had never shown up to, but the smirk remained on his face. “Perhaps I’ve gained some bravery? I’d imagine a little green boy like yourself would have little skill with a pistol.”
The situation was rapidly deteriorating, and he certainly wasn’t helping matters. Lady Aircourt’s firm grip on his forearm was the only reason James hadn’t lunged for the man already.
“A monkey could shoot you, Wardely, and you well know it,” another voice drawled, loud enough for the assembled company to hear. His sister approached from behind with her husband, and relief swept through him.
“Jasper, you are not helping,” Sophie chided as they joined the tumultuous group.
Lady Dalton gave an ungracious and chipper wave.“Daughter, how lovely to see you.”
His sister frowned. “It would be wise for you to leave before you make any more of a cake of yourself, mother.”
“She is right, Clara. Let us be off,” her companion stated grimly, tugging on the woman’s forearm with a pale-faced frown. James was too frozen by his shock and fury to say anything, and could only watch in muted horror as the baron dragged a stumbling Lady Dalton back the way they came and through the terrace doors. What, exactly, they had been thinking in coming here was a bizarre mystery, but his mother could be a stubborn force of her own when intoxicated. He would have pitied any man other than Wardely getting dragged along for one of her schemes.
A strong, familiar hand clamped on his shoulder. A fresh anxiety that had nothing to do with his mother surfaced as Amberwood gave him a jovial smile. “Well then, Dalton. Shall we go apologize to our hostess? I fear more blame might be attributed to you than is fair.”
The last time James had seen the man, it had been on the heels of him finally growing disgusted with himself enough to abandon Lady Francesca. That interaction had been understandably hostile, and had Sophie not already wed the Marquess at that point, James was convinced far worse would have been done to him than a mere banishment. Truly, Amberwood had been his main hang-up in visiting Sophie after returning to England, and he’d been more than a little relieved that they hadn’t been to town for the season yet. Until now, of course.
“Yes, I was thinking the same,” he replied with no small amount of wariness, wondering how much time might have helped soften his brother-in-law’s opinion of him. The man had sent him a respectable amount of funds periodically during his time in Italy, though James was more inclined to chalk that up to Sophie’s influence. Even so, he saw no outward hostility on the man’s face. Perhaps Amberwood and Sophie were a better place to start his journey of redemption than he’d initially thought.
He turned to his companion. “I must speak to Lady Filburk, if you do not mind.”
Lady Aircourt looked at him in mild concern, but nodded. “Very well.”
That the woman appeared not to be angry at him in the slightest over his mother’s behavior was a relief that he hadn’t realized he’d been hoping for. “Thank you.” Reluctantly, he extricated himself from her person.
“We’ll be waiting right here for you,” Sophie said. She smiled fondly at him. “I am so happy to see you again.”
