Duncan turned to Mr. Jacobs. “Our? You’ve known her long?”
“Yes, she’s lived here most of her life.
“These walks she takes, does she take them often?” Duncan asked.
“Every day, no matter the weather,’ Jacobs replied. “She prefers the mornings, but sometimes she’ll go out again in the afternoon.”
Duncan nodded, thinking about taking a walk himself tomorrow morning—until he realized that an hour or so of her company just wouldn’t be enough. And both his grandfathers would have a fit if he disappeared most of the day, when he had the job of finding a wife to do.
After having enjoyed himself that evening, really enjoyed himself for the first time since he’d come to England, he went to bed that night in a very disagreeable mood.
In the coach rambling toward Cottage by the Bow, the manor house that was so named years ago when it was still part of the old ducal estate, Hilary was rambling herself about the party. Sabrina wasn’t really paying attention, was still savoring her own experiences from the evening, until she heard, “He likes you.”
That definitely caught her attention and didn’t even need explaining, since she knew her aunt well enough to know just who she meant. “Yes, I believe he does, but not in the way you mean.”
Hilary took offense on Sabrina’s behalf and huffed, “And why not in that way?”
“Let’s be truthful, Aunt Hilary, if you put someone like me next to someone like Ophelia or even Amanda Locke, I wouldn’t even be noticed. And the crème de la crème of English aristocracy has been invited here by Lord Neville to tempt his grandson into marriage. You saw for yourself tonight, the young women in attendance weren’t the same young hopefuls who descended on London this Season with us. A few of them were, but most of those that Neville invited don’t need to go on the marriage block, they quite know their worth and don’t need to parade it about.”
“Posh, what has that to do with the fact that he likesyou?”
“We’ve become friends, nothing more than that,” Sabrina replied. “When he does actually choose his bride, it will be from one of the beautiful—”
“You’re no wallflower, m’dear. You may like to think so, but it just ain’t so.”
Sabrina sighed. It was nice to hear, of course, but one of them had to be realistic, or she’d be getting a swelled head and start hoping for something that just couldn’t be.
“Don’t you think I’d know if a man was interested in me inthatway? I promise you, Aunt Hilary, Duncan doesn’t look at me and see me as wifely material, he sees me more as his confidante who can help advise him on which one of those young lovelies he should be picking.”
“Time will tell,” Hilary replied, unwilling for some reason to deviate from her hopeful speculations.
Sabrina, unwilling to argue further when she’d rather still be savoring her memories in silence, said, “Just what was that all about, the way you attacked Lord Neville tonight?”
“Why, nothing a’tall. Just pure dislike that goeswayback.”
But Hilary, being forced into the defensive, said no more for the rest of the ride home.
Twenty-one
Sabrina overslept the next morning, so when Alice came in to wake her and mentioned cheerfully that she didn’t have much time to get ready, that the coach was already there and waiting for them, she was too groggy yet to grasp what that meant. And Alice left her room too quickly, before Sabrina could form a coherent question or even find out what coach she’d been talking about.
She didn’t hurry, though. The night before was recalled, and with a smile, she lay back on her pillow to do some more savoring, just as she’d done when she’d gone to bed last night—which was why she hadn’t gotten to sleep until near dawn, and why she’d overslept.
But then Hilary poked her head around Sabrina’s door and said, “Everyone is ready, m’dear, we’re just waiting on you. Do hurry.”
The door closed again, and Sabrina, getting seriously curious now, threw back her covers and raced out into the corridor to catch Hilary, who was already halfway down the stairs. “Ready for what? Have I overlooked something we were supposed to do today?”
Hilary frowned. “Didn’t that nitwit sister of mine tell you? She was supposed to wake youandtell you. Knew I should have done it m’self.”
“Ah, she mentioned a coach—”
“Oh, so she did tell you.” Hilary sounded disappointed, having a good excuse for an argument with Alice nipped in the bud as it were. “Well, do hurry. The coachman has been here for over an hour already, waiting.”
What a dilemma that gave Sabrina. Find out what the devil was going on, or give Hilary a reason to complain to Alice all day. She opted to look out the upstairs window in her room instead, which faced the front of the house. And there was the coach in question. Lord Neville’s coach again, there when it shouldn’t be there.
She was appalled at the conclusion she immediately reached. Obviously Duncan had forgotten to let the coachman know that he wouldn’t be needed this morning, at least not to pick her up again. And now because of that little oversight, her aunts both thought that they were all invited to Summers Glade, including Ophelia.
What else could her aunts be thinking? She was supposed to have told Duncan that she couldn’t return to the party, not without their own guest, and if the coach was there, then it must be there for all of them. They could have come to no other conclusion.
