Ryder sighed in blessed relief when he and Alex were finally in the carriage on the way back to Portman Square. “That was an evening to give a man a gray hair. I must say I’m relieved Teddy Jewel didn’t try to carry Camilla—Cam—off given the encouragement heaped on his head by her sister and Lady Whitsonby.”
Alex grinned. “If he tried I’d have to feel sorry for him. Cam would lay him flat. She’s a strong girl. Actually, she didn’t need to clout him, her wit felled him quite nicely.”
Ryder cocked a dark brow. There was laughter in his voice. “You mean despite her innate lady’s confusion and lack of logic?”
Alex laughed. “She laid him out just as if she’d been taught by Jayne and Aunt Sophie.”
Was that humor mixed with a good deal of pride he heard in his ward’s voice? Ryder said, “I do wonder if Whit will burn his wife’s ears over her mischief tonight.”
“Ah, so you realize what she did.”
“I’m sure even the footmen knew. I’ve never seen such a pained look on Whit’s face in all the years I’ve known him. Idaresay their bedtime won’t be pleasant unless Lady Whitsonby is very talented indeed.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Ryder could make out Alex’s smile in the shaft of pale moonlight coming through the carriage window. He said slowly, “The two of you must have enjoyed a far-ranging conversation at Westminster.”
“You don’t know the half of it. As for this evening, it’s a pity we had no opportunity to talk about our project plans what with Teddy hanging about until Lord Whitsonby kicked him out.”
Ryder laughed. “I daresay this evening turned out to be far more amusing. You know Teddy Jewel will keep trying, but only because Lady Whitsonby pushes him to. It wasn’t hard to see the lady and Cam do not get along. And there’s her sister. I wonder what is going on in that house?”
Alex said, “Lady Whitsonby has the power. And the sister sided with her. Do you know I think Lady Whitsonby is jealous of Cam, wants her married off or shipped off to Bath, out of her sight, out of her husband’s sight and thoughts. Impossible not to see how much Whit loves his younger daughter, and admires her.”
Ryder said, “She has to remind him of Tansia, his first wife, a lovely woman and not in the common way, just like Cam. There is a great physical resemblance. In Whit’s study, over the fireplace, is a portrait of Tansia. See if you agree with me when next we are visiting.” He paused. “At least Whit had the sense to move his dead wife’s portrait from the drawing room upon his marriage, but still, if I were the present Lady Whitsonby I’d probably be offended since he insisted on keeping it, but what can she say? Now, enough of the Rohman family drama. What do you think of Winstead?”
Alex laughed. “I like Win Towbridge. He’d just leftOxford when I arrived. He’s smart and interested in everything that would improve his lands and his farmers’ lives. He told me he and his father worked together to ensure their tenant farmers have the most modern farming equipment available.” What he didn’t say aloud was it was a pity why such a smart man couldn’t see the character of the lady who would be his wife.
“I knew you’d approve of him. As for his fiancée, Lady Eliza, she is certainly cut from a different cloth from her sister. It was obvious she was appalled at the thought of a stepmother taking what she assumed would be her place at Lansdowne Hall. And imagine six children—not hers—running about and there’s nothing she can do about it. But Win didn’t see her face in that instant, he was too pleased for his father and his own excitement. Since he was an only child, having six new stepsiblings around, probably worshipping him, is an amazing gift. It sounds like a match with excellent prospects for success. I do hope Eliza doesn’t try to poison her.”
Alex said, “It wouldn’t matter if she did, there’d still be the six children filling her house.”
A pause, then Alex asked, “How can you know if the lady you think you love loves you in return, or if she simply wants what is yours?”
Ryder gave him an arrested look. Alex was always surprising him. “Now that’s a question for the ages. You know as well as I do, Alex, many men don’t expect or especially want love in their marriages; they want land, an heir, money, pleasure is something they take outside their marriage.
“If you’re thinking of Lady Whitsonby, perhaps she was in dire straits and needed a husband for protection and to provide her with a nice home. Or perhaps she simply set her sights on him for his money and status. Perhaps she’s in love with him. Who knows?
“Marriage is always a risk for both the man and the lady, but let me say, Sherbrooke men have all been lucky in theirwives—well, your uncle Tysen did marry a perfectly dreadful girl, but she died and he found a splendid lady in Scotland who loves him sincerely. I’ve never seen a happier man.” Ryder patted Alex’s sleeve. “And I always think of you as a Sherbrooke extension, so I predict you will enjoy the same luck. Wake me up when we get home. I shouldn’t have downed that third brandy.”
A Sherbrooke extension.Alex liked the sound of that. He was no one and nobody, a man with no memory of his first fourteen years and yet this amazing man had made him his ward. Yes, he was a Sherbrooke extension. When would he be able to offer a lady a comfortable life? What would happen with Lord Whitsonby and Lord Carberry? Would the factory in Manchester come to fruition? Would it be successful?
And if it was successful, then what would happen? He closed his eyes and saw Cam Rohman.
That fine spring night Alex dreamed he and Cam Rohman were riding a train barreling through a dark forest, lurching from side to side, the train wheels barely keeping to the tracks. Cam wasn’t in a seat, she was sitting on top of a shrieking boiler he knew was going to blow any minute. He begged her to come down, they would jump off the train, but she smiled at him, told him not to worry and she sang out Edward Lear’s limerick, “‘It is just as I feared. Two owls and a hen, four larks and a wren, have all built their nests in my beard.’”
The boiler fell silent and cooled. The train moved quietly and smoothly through the forest.
Alex jerked awake to the sound of a wren singing brilliantly outside his open bedchamber window. Echoes of Cam’s singing the limerick flitted through his brain.
He lay in bed on his back, his arms behind his head, and smiled.
CHAPTER 17
Sherbrooke townhouse
Portman Square
Thursday morning
