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“You three certainly are a handful,” she said.
Sybil and Nancy smiled cheekily at their mother.
“Thank you, Mama!” they said in unison.
While waiting for their tea to arrive, Rowena couldn’t help secretly glancing toward the table where the baroness and the other two women sat. Once, she noticed Lady Viola glaring at her, and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
She tried to concentrate on the conversation around her, about the engagement ball at Cresingdale Manor, but she grew more uncomfortable by the minute. She wondered if Andrew knew how much his mother disliked his bride-to-be and what he would do if he found out. What had started out quite an enjoyable day for Rowena was quickly going sour because of the baroness’s behavior. Was she making a mistake with this marriage? Was Andrew?
Chapter Twenty-three
Andrew slept fitfully, thinking of his mother’s rude attitude toward Rowena at the opera. He could hardly believe she would behave in such a manner. She had been insistent that he marry, and he was clearly obeying her wishes. But it seemed she would only be satisfied if he married the womanshechose. It seemed to him that her obsession had never truly been about him marrying and bearing an heir; it was about controlling his life.
The way she had so flippantly and unrepentantly wounded Rowena’s feelings at the opera also bothered Andrew. Though he was only marrying her for convenience, he would not stand for his future wife to be treated disrespectfully. Not even by his own mother. Whatever good it would do, he intended to sit down with his mother before the wedding and put her in her place about his baroness-to-be.
The following morning, Wallace came into his room carrying an envelope. Andrew opened the letter and read it while the valet selected an outfit for him for the day:
Hello, my brother!
I realize that your wedding is fast approaching. Therefore, I wish to invite you for a lighthearted round of fencing before you become one of London’s indoctrinated married men. To refuse says you’re a coward, and I trust you would not wish for your new bride to think such a thing about you.
I shall be waiting in the usual place after lunch. Keep in mind that, as ever, the wager is one hundred pounds. I shall already be spending my winnings before you even arrive this afternoon.
Yours truly,
Edmund
Andrew was laughing before he finished reading the letter. He and his brother-in-law had shared a few fencing sessions, including before his marriage to Gemma. It was something Andrew thoroughly enjoyed, even though he often lost. Edmund never accepted his winnings from Andrew. They would usually go for drinks after the match, and Edmund would spend the money on whisky and fine steaks, just as Andrew would have done anyway.
Wallace was staring at Andrew with bemusement as he folded the letter and put it on the desk.
“Good news, my lord?” he asked.
Andrew laughed again.
“I shall need my fencing clothes today, as well, Wallace” he said. “The earl wants to relieve me of some money today, it seems.”
Wallace chuckled and nodded, turning back to the wardrobe, fetching out his master’s fencing outfit and folding it neatly on the bed.
“I see,” he said as Andrew began undressing. “Well, let us ensure that you are prepared to win this time.”
***
Andrew took his breakfast in his chambers that morning, passing the time until he was to meet with Edmund idly flipping through pages of the novels he kept in his room. All the while, his mind wandered back to Rowena and the opera the night before. He hoped that a little fencing with his brother-in-law would help clear his mind. Unfortunately, that was not to be the case.
When he arrived at Spenshire Manor later that afternoon, Edmund met him and led him to the piste. They changed into their fencing attire and did some warm-up exercises. It had been ages since Andrew had done any fencing, and he knew it was likely that Edmund would, indeed, win that day. But that was still the furthest thing from his mind.
Edmund began the bout, taking his position and waiting for Andrew to do the same.
“En garde,” the earl said with a boastful guffaw.
Andrew engaged and, for a moment, the sound of their blades rang clearly throughout the piste. But even the thrill of the sport was too little to keep Andrew in the present moment. In no time at all, he was once more distracted by thoughts of Rowena.
As they parried and thrust their blades against one another’s, Andrew came to an unsurprising realization. He had been thinking about his bride-to-be more each day because she was, indeed, extremely attractive. Attempting to deny the fact was futile, to say the least.
And yet, so was entertaining anything more than the marriage of convenience that he and Rowena had agreed upon. No, it simply would not do to consider getting closer to his fiancée after they had married. It was not an option. No matter how beautiful she was.
It wasn’t until Edmund’s blade narrowly avoided stabbing through the mesh in his helmet that Andrew realized he had stopped blocking his brother-in-law’s thrusts. He quickly straightened his shoulders and held up his blade in a blocking motion, but Edmund lowered his epée and regarded him through his own mask.
