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Ezra bowed and kissed Matilda’s hand. She shot Arthur a questioning look. He mouthed the word “later” to her when Ezra wasn’t looking.
“I suppose I had better introduce you to everyone,” Arthur said, and escorted her inside. The entry hall was filled with his friends from London, and he made all the necessary introductions. Matilda blushed and excused herself to change out of her riding habit, wanting to visit with her aunt before dinner. Arthur was relieved, not because she was gone, but because she wasn’t there for his friends to openly admire. Ezra wasn’t the only man in the room with hungry eyes, and for some reason that worried Arthur. He wasn’t normally a jealous man, and while he wouldn’t say he was jealous, he did feel… protective toward Matilda.
A willowy brunette swept toward him, blocking his view of Matilda’s retreating form. The woman wore a dazzling blue carriage dress that clung to her form, leaving little to the imagination as to the shape of her feminine assets. Della Cowper had not lost any of her enticing good looks since he’d last seen her a month ago, yet she wasn’t as appealing as she used to be. There was something… false about her that he’d never noticed before. Everything she said and did, even the clothing she wore, was a calculated decision. There was nothing real or spontaneously sweet about her, not like with Matilda.
“Brynny,” she greeted warmly, using his old London nickname before he’d become Earl of Castleton. He kissed her hand and smiled at her.
“Della,” he chuckled. “I assume you’ve missed me too?”
“Of course I have.” Della laughed. “London is no fun if you aren’t there.”
Arthur highly doubted that. His set of friends were wild, even the women. They roved from one party to the next, pausing only to eat and sleep between their bouts of mischief.
“What made you all come here? I don’t have the house ready for guests. I—”
Della placed a gloved fingertip on his lips. “Hush, Brynny. Just have your maids dust off a few beds and we’ll be fine. What on earth are you doing all the way out here for the holidays?” she demanded. “It must be so very dull with nothing to do and no one to see.”
Arthur sighed. “I’ve been busying managing an estate, Della. It’s been quite enough to keep me occupied.”
“Oh, good. I wouldn’t want to think you’ve been soboredas to dally with anyone out here. Country girls are positively provincial, aren’t they?”
Arthur didn’t respond to the baited comment. Della had had her eye on him for years, hoping he’d someday decide to marry, but as much fun as she could be, he couldn’t trust that she would stay loyal to their marriage bed. She liked her fast life too much, and he would prefer not to wonder if the children he raised were actually his.
He would see his guests settled and then go upstairs to see how Matilda and Florence fared. At the moment, they were better company than this wild lot.
* * *
Matilda thankedthe maid who helped her change into an evening dress for dinner. When she rose from her vanity table, she found Arthur standing in the open doorway. He closed the door and came toward her.
“Mattie, I’m so sorry about today. I had no idea they were coming.” He pulled her into his arms and she sighed, laying her head on her shoulder.
“Perhaps I should stay with my aunt and keep out of your way while you entertain them.”
“I don’t wish for you to hide.” He kissed the top of her head. “But take care with the men, Mattie. I mean it. They are my friends, but they are also reckless. They live with a little too muchentitlementand they aren’t above seducing innocent young women.”
“Like you did?” she asked with a chuckle.
“Yes, like me.” But he didn’t laugh with her. “I will see if I can convince them to return to London sooner rather than later.”
“As you wish,” Matilda replied.
He rested his chin on the top of her head. “I was enjoying having you all to myself,” he said with obvious regret. Then he released her and stepped back. “Are you ready for dinner?”
She nodded, though she felt far from ready. She had never attended a dinner like this before and didn’t know any of his friends. But she would find a way to survive. It wasn’t as if she would have to face these people again once they left Castleton Hall.
Dinner was a boisterous affair. The men laughed as they shared lewd jokes and the women twittered scandalous stories to one another as the courses were brought out. Matilda spoke only when someone addressed her, which thankfully wasn’t often. Most of the men shot her curious and appraising looks and the women conversely eyed her with disdain, but she didn’t care. These people were not important to her. They were just a string of strangers that she’d never have to face again.
Once dinner was over, the women and men did not separate by gender as she’d expected. Instead, they proceeded en masse to the drawing room, insisting on playing parlor games.
“Castleton, let’s play Beast of Burden!” someone shouted.
“No, how about Pet the Pussycat?” another man volunteered, and that suggestion was met with loud guffaws.
Matilda hovered by the doorway, hoping to slip out into the corridor. Arthur’s face reddened as the group converged on him, all throwing out ideas for games that Matilda had never heard of in her life and, given Arthur’s face, were likely not games polite people played.
“We shall play Beast of Burden!” Della announced, taking over from Arthur, who clearly had no desire to choose a game. “Arthur, you must be the beast,” the woman said in a commanding tone and pointed an imperious finger at him.
“No,” Arthur replied coldly. “I will not play that.”
