In the past, when he had needed to consult anyone about the women in his life, it had always been Percy. He couldn’t deny that asking someone else for aid felt wrong. He missed his friend. Missed their easy camaraderie. Missed everything about him.
“I’ll try,” Lady Clementine conceded, and he took note for the first time that her hat was bedecked with a clump of silk roses that looked remarkably similar to the blooms in which they stood, bees buzzing happily around them.
“Thank you.” He paused, frowning as a bee chose that moment to fly toward the decoration on her hat. “Hold still, Lady Clementine.”
Her eyes went wide. “What is it?”
“Nothing more than a bee.” He doffed his hat, using its brim to chase the trespasser. “There you are. I didn’t want it to sting you.”
“Disaster averted.” She gave him a small smile, and he wondered if perhaps his act of gallantry had slightly improved her estimation of him. “I suppose you’re not as hideously evil as I had previously supposed.”
Well, then.
He settled his hat atop his head with a sardonic smile. “How reassuring. Shall we walk as we talk, Lady Clementine? I have a suspicion that if we linger, we’ll only invite more such incidents.”
She nodded. “I suppose we should. What is it you wished to discuss with me?”
They began a slow promenade to the main house, passing through the roses toward the fountain.
“I have a plan,” he began, “and I’m wondering if you might be willing to aid me in it…”
* * *
Vivi reinedin Visigoth when she reached the outskirts of the old castle wall. Lynwood Castle was one of the original settlements at Sherborne Manor, dating to the fourteenth century, but it had been left abandoned in favor of the manor house some time in the eighteenth century by a past Duke of Bradford. During the weekend house parties she had been holding this summer, it had become a favorite haunt for all her guests. She’d had the interior inspected for damage, the first level swept and cleared, and the old stables repaired enough for use.
When Clementine had sent her a note that afternoon suggesting they meet at the castle for a picnic dinner, Vivi had leapt at the chance. She knew Court would never find them here, for the castle was sufficiently far from the main house. The opportunity to continue eluding him was too tempting to resist. She was still badly shaken from his morning revelations, and after leaving him by the lake, she had diverted her attention to all tasks related to the house party and the impending arrival of her guests in two weeks’ time.
Any time she had spied him, she had thrown herself into a conversation with a nearby domestic, thwarting his attempts to speak to her. Which reminded her, she thought grimly as she dismounted from Visigoth, she still needed to decide which footman she could entrust with the task of hammering wooden slats over the door connecting her bedroom to Court’s. It would be best to have it done before her guests descended upon Sherborne Manor. Fewer opportunities for anyone to hear the noise, ask questions, and carry tales.
It was bad enough that she would have to suffer the pretense of a happy marriage with Court for the sake of her guests and her pride. No need to add further duress. Carefully, Vivi led her mount to the stables and secured him within before venturing into the inner bailey of the castle.
But what she saw there made her stop.
For it wasn’t her friend Clementine awaiting her on a large blanket that had been spread over the ground, a picnic hamper at his side. Instead, it was Court.
“You,” she said.
“Me.” He rose to his feet with effortless masculine grace, offering her an elegant bow. “Good evening, wife.”
Wife.
He had used the title before, but there was something different about it now, within the walls of Lynwood. It rolled off his tongue like an endearment. She couldn’t quell the sudden surge of longing that rose within her.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, feeling almost as if they were in a farce together in which he unrepentantly appeared when she least expected him. Three times in a row now, he had surprised her with his presence. “Where is Clementine?”
“Lady Clementine is dining back at the house,” he said easily, striding forward with supreme confidence.
A confidence she couldn’t help but admire. He had always walked that way, as if all the world were at his mercy. She certainly had been from the moment she had first seen him.
Vivi forced herself to think of her dear friend, who had apparently betrayed her. But no, surely Clementine would not take up Court’s cause. She and Clementine had been inseparable since they had met at a gathering held by Lady Josephine Decker in London some months ago.
“Why is she at the house?” Vivi asked, suspicion rising. “Did you discover our plans and seek to ruin them?”
“Of course not.” He stopped before her, offering her his arm just as gallantly as he had on that ballroom floor eight years ago. “I enlisted her aid, and given that I saved her from a bee that was intent on making its home in her hat, she was willing to agree.”
The mentioning of the bee momentarily distracted her. “It is all the flowers she wears, always dripping from her hats and gowns. But if I didn’t know better, I would swear that you somehow cozened that bee into abetting you.”
A half grin kicked up one corner of his mouth. “Buzz.”
