“And?” he snapped.
“And because Lady Courtenay has also been invited, with Miss Bennet.” Clemency’s chin came up as she played her trump card.
Richard stared at her. He and Evangeline did not attend society events together. Mostly because Evangeline didn’t attend many, and Richard didn’t care for them anyway. They went to the opera and the museums together. They dined with friends and rode out and swam in the pond and took long, leisurely walks together.
But the balls and routs and soirées and breakfasts that made up social London... They never went to those. By unspoken agreement they were almost never in each other’s company in public situations.
And as a result, he had only ever danced with Evangeline on the night they met.
She had not mentioned this ball to him. Of course he knew she was taking her niece out into society, as Miss Bennet was an unmarried young lady and was accustomed to parties and balls. It shouldn’t surprise him that she would attend such an event, particularly if Viscount Burke continued to pay Miss Bennet attention.
He hadn’t seen her in what felt like an eternity. They had exchanged letters, but paper and ink were a poor substitute for her warm laugh, her exasperated smiles, the arousing little gasp she made when she kissed him. When she’d told him that she meant to chaperone her niece for several weeks, he hadn’t realized how hard her absence would hit him. It was now obvious that his entire life revolved around her.
“How do you know that?” he finally asked.
Clemency’s expression lit with triumph. “Lady Brentwood mentioned it. She is dear friends with Lady Bennet and has every expectation they will accept.”
Every expectation. Meaning Evangeline would be welcomed as she should be, not whispered about as she feared. This time Richard glanced at Gerhard. “Are you in favor of this public exhibition of our narrow escapes from death and dismemberment?”
Gerhard, who had been watching Clemency with a tinge of worship, glanced at him. “Why would I object?”
Richard ate a biscuit and thought. Clemency wanted him to go, therefore Gerhard wanted him to go. Saying a few words about their travels would be no hardship; he did it often enoughat dinner parties when people asked him about traveling the Nile or the Ganges. And if he agreed to speak, he would be considered a guest of honor, which meant he would be expected to dance with ladies in attendance.
That, Richard knew, would be akin to a public announcement. But also, one that his hosts would have no choice but to approve, which meant other guests would also not disapprove.
“Very well,” he said abruptly. “Yes, I will attend and give a speech, if it pleases you.”
Clemency gave a little exclamation of joy and Gerhard gave him an approving nod. Outside in the hall, the front door opened, and Rafael charged in.
“Apologies, Mama, Uncle, Mr. Rieger,” said the boy breathlessly. He gave a quick bow. “I didn’t mean to be so late.”
Richard, who thought Rafe’s timing was excellent, was already on his feet. “We had better be off. Clemency.” He nodded to his sister, ignored Gerhard, and waved Rafe out the door ahead of him.
“I really am dreadfully sorry.” Rafael was flushed and a bit windblown, as if he’d run home from wherever. “I was with some fellows from university, and we quite forgot the time...”
“Apology accepted. Your mother had something to tell me, and the time was not wasted.” They went out into the street, where the groom walking his team and curricle appeared in a few minutes.
“I want to thank you for taking me out,” said Rafe almost shyly as Richard started the horses. In the last two years he’d shot up to Richard’s own height, but was still slender and rangy, with Clemency’s dark hair and eyes, his father’s diplomatic sensibility, and a wit that was all his own. He had just finished his first year at Cambridge.
Richard smiled. “Of course. I was honored to be asked. It is not every day we old men are invited to spend time with young bucks like you.”
Rafe laughed. “You’ve confused me with Gabe! Not that you’re old, Uncle.”
Richard glanced at him. “The fact that I can look you in the eye now, when you used to sit upon my shoulders and pull my ears, proves that I am indeed getting old.”
His nephew grinned. “You don’t seem it.”
“Praise indeed,” said Richard gravely.
“I mean, all the blokes at school have heard of you, and they’re in awe,” went on Rafael with enthusiasm. “They want to know if you’re planning to take me and Gabe to China or Africa.”
“Your mother would have me drawn and quartered. No—she would do it herself.” Richard was sure of this. It had taken several days of careful argument on Rafael’s part for Clemency to allowthisouting.
His nephew fell quiet. Richard glanced at him, noting the young man’s pensive expression, and they drove the rest of the way to Humberton Hall in silence.
They left the curricle at the stables and walked down the rolling lawn. It was away from the pond at the far edge of the property, the ground cleared ahead of where the trees grew thickest and the brambles wildest. For further protection, an earthen berm had been heaped behind the primary target area, and beyond it was more woodland. Over the years he had owned the property, he’d got it just the way he liked it, and this was where he took his nephew for his first shooting lesson.
One of the servants had set out a table with shot and powder. The sky was cloudy, but there was little wind and no threat of rain. Richard opened the polished wooden case set on the table, and removed one pistol from the felt-lined interior.
