Mr. Harris continued with his explanation. “Lucy told her sympathetic female relations that you haven’t attended any balls with her since arriving in London. You have refused to attend any number of Society functions—most of them, in fact.”
Reed leaned back, eyeing them each in turn. He could feel something like a smirk tug at his mouth. “So you are all envious, that’s what this is. You have been forced to attend those things and can’t believe I managed to get out of the obligation.”
“Envious?” Robert actually chuckled. “Our wives aren’t in the sitting room conspiring againstus, Reed. I think you are the one who ought to be jealous.”
“Conspiring against me?”
Mr. Harris’s grin only grew. “The ladies of this family mean to teach you a lesson, son. And if I know them as well as I think I do, they will succeed.”
“What is it to be, then?” Reed asked. “Am I to be stretched on the rack or locked up in the dungeon?”
“Worse even than either.” Mr. Harris’s eyes danced with amusement. “You are to be forced to court your own wife.”
“Oh, good heavens,” Reed muttered, beginning to understand what his father-in-law was hinting at.
“You are to be subjected to at-homes and requesting permission to dance at balls and visits to the family box at the opera. And I have been instructed to make it difficult for you.” Mr. Harris’s look of empathy clearly indicated he would do nothing of the sort. “Never tell your wife that you’re not required to court her unless you are fully prepared to do so.”
Reed shook his head in disbelief. “Where in the world did this come from? Lucy didn’t seem upset last night.”
Charles and Robert exchanged knowing looks. Reed eyed them both. Charles took pity on him and explained.
“Considering the number of social functions we have not seen you at this Season, I am certain Lucy has been stewing over this for some time. She might not have seemed upset last night, but I can guarantee she was.”
Robert nodded. “And since all of our wives have, at one time or another, been upset with us over our disinterest in squiring them about, Lucy has found an entire house full of sympathizers.”
“I will have to go through with this, then?” Reed slumped lower in his seat. This Season was supposed to have been simple and easy.
“Yes.” Mr. Harris pulled the single syllable out long. Spoken in that way, hisyessounded far more like “in a manner of speaking.”
Reed’s companions looked at him pointedly, their expressions growing instantly conspiratorially.
He leaned forward. “What do you have in mind?”
Chapter Four
Lucy sat in her parents’ drawing room, chatting amicably with many visitors, as she had the previous two Seasons. And, as she had the year before, she found herself watching the door, hoping each new arrival was her Reed. A flutter of anticipation seized her with the very first visitor and only grew as time passed.
I have missed this.
Though last Season, not knowing if he would visit or dance with her, or invite her to ride out with him had been a source of worry, every time he had come by or had spoken to her or sent her flowers, she’d known with absolute certainty that he cared about her. She’d known he thought her worth the effort.Thatwas what she’d missed—the little things that said he valued her.
Their at-home hours were nearly gone. Lucy caught her mother’s eye, silently asking the question on her mind.Where is Reed?
Mother’s eyes softened, and she gave a quick nod of reassurance. She had insisted, along with Lucy’s sister and sister-in-law, that Reed would most certainly come call on her. Husbands grew lonely for their wives, they said. Having not seen her in a day and a half, Reed would realize how much he enjoyed her company and would do whatever he must to see her.
That was the crux of their plan, at least. Reed took her for granted. Requiring him to make even a minimal effort would show him how fortunate he was to have her as his wife. Perhaps he would decide that dancing with her and accompanying her to Society functions were not such chores after all.
Only a moment more passed, and there he stood. Reed greeted Mother first, as was proper, she being the hostess of this at-home. He smiled and nodded at the others in the room, a quick and unexceptional means of acknowledging everyone without taking time to do so individually.
Which will mean more time for the two of us to converse.
Reed took the empty chair nearest her. She kept her eyes trained on him, her smile feeling more natural by the moment. He was here. He had come.
His eyes met hers. She held her breath, excitedly anticipating the twinkle of mischief she’d so often seen there. But his gaze was little more than polite.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Stanthorpe,” he said, his voice low enough to not be overheard by those conversing with her mother and sister. “Fine weather we are having.”
Mrs. Stanthorpe?They had on occasion resorted to formal address with each other when in public, especially amongst the older set, who were quite particular about that. But it was decidedly odd for him to not call her by her Christian name in her own parents’ house, when they were the only two taking part in the conversation.
