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Her dimples flashed, and his heart knew a corresponding throb as he studied the graceful lines of her face.
“Did I hear talk of an invitation to the Bellinghams?” Mrs. Stapleton asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Musgrave said.
“Elvira has always liked to be first in invitations.”
“The first in invitations means one can claim the first in consequence,” Theodosia murmured, eyes fixed on the scenery outside.
“My dear, it is not charitable to say such things,” Mrs. Stapleton protested.
“Forgive me.” Her daughter’s gaze returned to Daniel and his friend. “I trust you will enjoy yourself. You need not fear that she has any daughters of marriageable age she will wish to foist onto you.”
“I am most relieved to hear you say so.” Musgrave shuddered, as if terrified.
“But that is not to say that she won’t invite other eligible young ladies to such a party.” Mrs. Stapleton rearranged her skirts. “Dear Elvira has always appreciated opportunities to matchmake, whether at a dinner or a ball. Why, one would think her daughter Amelia—just a year or so older than Seraphina—would never have met nor married Mr. Edwards without her plans and ploys. I dare say she likes to think she had a hand in Seraphina’s match too.”
Her daughter stiffened. “That was all Seraphina’s doing.”
“Yes, I’m afraid that’s true. Seraphina has always had a way of getting what she wants without requiring the assistance of others.” Mrs. Stapleton’s sigh turned into a smile. “Perhaps it is as well Elvira does not yet know your identity, sir. You would be inundated with such invitations.”
“Precisely the reason I am determined to leave as soon as can be, as soon as this blessed leg of mine is mended.”
Theodosia’s lips thinned. The briefest flash of what looked like dismay smoothed into blandness as her gaze touched his before returning to the window.
His heart caught. Was she dismayed? Or was that his wishful thinking?
“And how long do you think until you leave for London?” Mrs. Stapleton asked.
“A week or so, according to Dr. Linton.”
“Does Becky know?” Theodosia’s gaze remained averted.
“I will speak to her about it upon her return.”
Daniel glanced at Musgrave and, conscious of what had happened back at the church, ventured, “Perhaps we might see where Mannering is up to, and whether it would be possible to remove there for the remainder of our stay.”
“Oh, but sir, it would barely be worth the bother,” Mrs. Stapleton countered. “And I’m sure you would be far more comfortable at Stapleton Court than in a house still shoring up its foundations.”
“Yes indeed, Balfour,” Musgrave said, with a slight frown. “I fail to see why you should think such a thing is necessary.”
He glanced at Theodosia. Still she offered no protest. “I am sure I have long outstayed my welcome, and now Mr. and Mrs. Riley are here, I should not like to feel I am in the way.”
“No, indeed you are not,” Mrs. Stapleton objected. “Your company has proved most interesting.”
“Thank you, ma’am. But neither should I like anyone’s reputation to be compromised by our stay there.”
She glanced at her daughter, whose gaze remained fixed on the scenery, even as they entered the gates of Stapleton Court. “Well, I applaud your noble intentions, but I hardly think it can make much difference now.”
But it did. And the fact that Theodosia refused to look at him made him wonder if he’d misjudged her and confirmed the fact that she neither felt interest in him nor concern about what their continued stay might mean for her reputation as a lady.
Still, he would not be swayed. A removal to Mannering would mean they would be quite out of harm’s way.
Later, when he’d been helped back into his room, where he could finally relax and prop his leg up, not wishing to admit to just how much it ached, he looked at Musgrave. “I’m sorry that moving to Mannering likely won’t be as pleasant as here.”
“I’m sure.” Musgrave offered a searching look.
“What is it? You look rather odd.”
