Whit set down his snifter of brandy on a lovely eighteenth-century marquetry table and came to them, his hand outstretched. “Ryder, Alex, do come in. Welcome to my home.”
Whit introduced Lady Whitsonby, his daughter Eliza and her betrothed, Mr. Winstead Towbridge. He added with a smile, “And of course you are already acquainted with my younger daughter, Camilla.”
Gone was the young lady in her plain and proper gown, glasses perched on her nose, stout walking shoes on her narrow feet, and in her place—
Whit added, all good humor, “It must be said, she looks quite unlike the waif you met at Westminster.”
Alex was amazed at her transformation. No glasses, her hair was plaited on top of her head with blue ribbons threaded through, the thick braids shimmering with blond and gold amongst the shades of brown in the candlelight. Lazy curls fell along the sides of her face, but no clusters of curls about her ears as was the current style. Her gown dazzled. She looked beautiful, but not in the common way—elegant, that was it, elegant and clever. Those eyes of hers were a soft hazel, more blue tonight to match the blue of her gown. If he wasn’t mistaken, she looked excited.
To see him?
Alex was aware of something he’d never felt before, a deep warmth filling him, and even more odd, he felt a sort of recognition. He found himself smiling as he bent over her gloved hand and lightly kissed her fingers. When he straightened he said, “You’re not wearing your glasses.”
She grinned up at him. “If I’m not careful my soup might end up on my beautiful gown and since this is the gown’s first outing, a stain might earn me a smack in the head. You’re fairly clear, but beyond your right shoulder, everything is a pleasant blur.”
He realized he wanted her to see him clearly. “Put on your glasses.”
“Well, why not?” Cam knew why not. Averil had ordered her to take them off, they made her look a perfect dowd and bookish, horror of horrors, and so she’d dutifully put them in the narrow pocket of her lovely gown. She settled them on her nose, blinked up at him. “Oh, this is much better. Goodness, look at you—if asked, I would say you’re a visiting prince to compete with Albert. You look very fine indeed, Mr. Ivanov.”
A visiting prince? He opened his mouth to tell her, no, he was far from a prince, but she—Lady Whitsonby said from across the drawing room, “Mr. Ivanov, I understand you are a foreigner to our shores.” Her voice was cool, but there was interest as well.
He turned, gave her a slight bow. Alex recognized Lady Whitsonby was exquisite, perfectly presenting herself in an apricot silk gown that pushed up her lovely white breasts. Was she really a wicked stepmother? “Yes, my lady. I am exceedingly foreign.”
“But you do not sound at all foreign,” Averil said. “Perhaps your guardian is jesting with us?”
Alex caught Ryder’s eye. “No jest, my lady.”
Whit said, “Alex, come with me, I wish you to speak to Winstead. Like his father, he is always on the lookout for ways to improve his farmers’ lives and productivity, always installing new mechanical equipment.”
Alex had asked Ryder about Winstead Towbridge on their carriage ride to Ormond Square and Whitsonby House. Ryder had known his father, Jameson, Lord Longham, for years, watched the son grow into a man. “He’s three years your senior, Alex. Despite his being raised to have his every whim immediately satisfied, miraculously, it didn’t ruin him. He’s intelligent, cares for the lands he will someday inherit and there’s no meanness in him. His marriage to Lord Whitsonby’s eldest daughter is seen as advantageous to both families.”
Now, Alex stood back as Ryder asked, “How is your father feeling, Winstead?”
“He does marvelously now, thank you, sir.” Winstead grinned. “I have worried about him. He’s been too much alone. I feared he was growing despondent, what with me spending so much time in London, but no longer.” He smiled down at Eliza. “I haven’t told anyone, but perhaps it’s time. A very charming lady has recently moved into the neighborhood. She’s the widow of Sir Thomas Levalle, who died of a chill that went to his lungs some four years ago. She was left with six children, the youngest only twelve. I must say when I visited Father last week he was overflowing with enthusiasm and vigor, eyes bright and perfectly well. I saw he quite enjoys the children and they him. He informed me I will shortly have a stepmother. Her name is Francis.” He turned to add to Eliza, “He sent me a note only today, telling me, so forgive me for not telling you sooner. I know you’ll be as happy for him as I am. I can’t wait for you to meet Francis and all my future stepbrothers and sisters.” He paused a moment, smiled. “Francis informed me with a laugh to please not call her mother, it makes her feel too old. There is once more laughter in the house and so much noise. It is amazing. Just imagine, Eliza, all the enlivening conversation around the dining table, for all the older children dine with the adults. Francis is very pretty and kind and very patient, a necessity I imagine for handling six children. She is anxious to meet you. All the staff at the hall are quite enjoying themselves.”
Alex saw the shock on Eliza Rohman’s face, quickly replaced with an attempt at a smile. She tapped her gloved fingers on Winstead’s arm. “How naughty of you, Winnie. You should have told me much sooner. Of course I’m very pleased. Of course your father is all that is charming, but surely, isn’t he too old to take up matrimony this late in life?”
It was a good thing Eliza didn’t see her own father’s reaction to her words. Would she have been sorry, would she havetried to retrench? Cam didn’t know, but she’d seen his reaction. He was stiff as a board, his fingers clutching his brandy glass so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t snap. She looked to see Winstead frowning, but he didn’t have time to answer, a pity because Cam would dearly have loved to hear what he had to say to Eliza, because there was a loud clearing throat in the doorway. Everyone turned to see Osbourne announce, “Mr. Theodore Jewel.”
CHAPTER 15
Teddy Jewel was dressed to the nines in perfectly tailored evening clothes, only a bit on the flamboyant side with the green and gray striped waistcoat, thanks to his valet.
“My lord, my lady. I thank you for the lovely invitation. I am so delighted to be with you.” He looked at Cam, blinked rapidly, his mouth open. If a man could slaver, Alex had no doubt he was witnessing it. So this was the toad.
Cam leaned close. “Oh dear, what is he doing here? Wait, look at Papa, he’s surprised and yes, he’s not happy. He knows Averil has gone behind his back and he’s not happy. Just look at her face, she can’t hide her triumph, she’s responsible for the toad’s being here. Because Papa’s a gentleman he can’t very well blast her, at least not right here, not right now. And he has to be all that is welcoming to Teddy. He’s probably worried about me, though, worried I’ll hurl my fricasseed chicken at him, which he does richly deserve, but I won’t. I look too splendid to be ill-mannered no matter what my step-mama has done.”
And she remembered when she’d come into the drawing room, Averil had looked her up and down and slowly nodded. “Yes, you’ll do.”
Oh yes, Averil had known Teddy was coming because she had invited him. She wanted to offer up Cam to Teddy the toad.
Averil immediately stepped forward, her hands outstretched. “Theodore, how wonderful you could fit us into your very busy schedule. You are so popular I could only pray you would be able to come to dine with us tonight. Naturally I told Camilla of our treat for her and she was very pleased.”
Teddy lightly pressed his lips to her wrist, lingered an extra moment, smiled down at her.
Averil said, “My lord, won’t you bid Mr. Jewel welcome?”
Whit said easily, “Yes, indeed. How pleasant that you’re here, and on such short notice too. Our delight in your unexpected presence must give us all pleasure, don’t you agree, my dear?”
