There was more small talk. He admired the improvements to the house from the last time he had visited.
However, he was thankful when he could leave. Although the headache from his excesses the night before had left him, it had been a trying day. He didn’t think he’d handled Kate’s fears as well as he could have. He’d make it up to her when he called on the morrow. As for Mrs. Estep, well, he’d leave that to the next day, as well. Ideally, Mars would return with all due haste and make the woman and her unsubstantiated claim disappear. Then Ned would see what could be done to secure The Garland for the Logical Men’s Society for all perpetuity. But first, whatheneeded was a good night’s sleep.
Hippocrates knew the way home. The big horse picked up speed the closer they came to Maidenshop. Ned’s house, which he let from Mars, was located not far from The Garland. It was set apart from the cottages, and while not grand, it suited his needs. Royce would have a supper waiting as he always did, no matter the hour Ned returned.
His path took him, once again, past The Garland. Ned was determined to not pay any attention to the building. His expectation was to go trotting by—except the street was blocked by what appeared to be every female in the village.
Mrs. Warbler was shaking a mop at the Dawson brothers, warning them off. Off to the side, Sir Lionel and Mr. Fullerton sat in their sedan chairs. Their carriers stood beside them, one of them holding a keg on his shoulder.
Every afternoon since Ned had moved to Maidenshop, the two old widowers were carried to The Garland. It appeared as if today they had been denied entry and the Dawson boys, contrary to Ned’s good advice, were taking up their cause.
“This isourplace,” Mark complained.
“Not any longer,” Mrs. Warbler answered. “You almost destroyed the place and you don’t deserve it.”
Clarissa, the dowager, and Mrs. Summerall were not there but the lads’ mother was. She came forward to stand right beside Mrs. Warbler. “She’s right. Go on with you. Go home. I’m horrified at what I learned was going on in there.”
To no one’s surprise, her sons did not listen. “You can’t keep us out,” Mark pressed. “Look over there at Sir Lionel and Mr. Fullerton. Those are old men. They have habits.”
Sir Lionel enthusiastically nodded. “We are here every day.”
“Well, not today,” Mrs. Warbler answered triumphantly. “In fact, it is time for the two of you”—she pointed her mop at the old gents—“to develop somenewhabits.”
“If this is your way of making me pay attention to you,” Sir Lionel warned, “it is not a good one.”
“Come on, Mrs. Warbler,” William Dawsonwheedled as if trying to charm her. “You know we are thirsty.”
“There isn’t a drop to drink in there. You all downed it last night.”
“Mr. Fullerton brought a new keg,” William answered.
“No,”she responded and set her mop down like a sentry standing guard.
Seeing Ned, Sir Lionel barked, “Thurlowe, do something.”
Before Ned could respond, there was another disturbance—Mrs. Estep herself appeared in the doorway.
Her face was flush as if she’d just woken. Her golden-red hair was in one long braid over her shoulder. The last rays of the sun seemed to catch on the color, and there wasn’t a man around who wasn’t struck dumb.
Ned included.
There were other women present who were as beautiful, even more so... except there was an ethereal air about her. She was dressed in her black, but something set her apart from all others.
“Ah, there you are, sweet girl,” Mrs. Warbler said in greeting. “Did you have a good sleep? Are you surprised at what we’ve done?”
“I’m overwhelmed,” Mrs. Estep said. There was a huskiness to her voice that seemed to ring through Ned. “This is so generous of all of you and I don’t know who you are or why you are being so kind to me but thank you.Thank you.”
The woman closest to her, Jenny Mandrake,answered, “Becauseyouare one ofus.” Heads nodded. “Welcome to Maidenshop.”
And that is when Mrs. Estep noticed Ned sitting on his horse.
Their gazes met. He could not pull his away. Instead, he stared as if hungry for her, and he was.
This was the way of foolishness. This is what had led his noble father almost into social ruin, what had taken many a man down a path of betrayal and shame. Ned had believed himself immune because he’d never experienced such a driving awareness of any member of the female sex.
Apparently, he was capable of being as gulled by a woman as the next man.
If she’d crooked her finger toward him right now, he’d run to her. He would have swept her up in his arms, carried her to the nearest bed, and had his way with her—except he was a thinking man. He may have been a love child, but he did not believe in love or giving in to lust. That way lay folly.
