“Lord Peyton—” Diana began.
Mama held up a graceful hand. “Men like Peyton, who was an officer during the most brutal campaigns fighting Napoleon, are not biddable.”
“But what if such a man falls in love?” Helen asked. That could change most men she imagined.
“Perhaps then. With the right woman.” Mama glanced at Helen. “A sensible wife could make all the difference. Especially one who has had some experience of life.” She patted Diana’s arm. “But not a girl just out of the schoolroom.”
Diana bristled. “I am almost eighteen, Mama.”
“And your father has kept you carefully sheltered within the bosom of this family.” Mama smiled. “I agree that it is time for you to spread your wings. But I want you to enjoy your first Season. It is the most wonderful time of your life; do not waste it chasing after rainbows. Meet many gentlemen, and choose the best one for your husband.”
After dinner, once Helen and Diana dismissed their maid and climbed into bed, Diana folded her arms over the coverlet. “I don’t think Mama gives me enough credit.”
“You know Mama is far wiser than we are, Diana.”
“Normally, I would agree. I am no longer a child, and she needs to realize that. But she soon will.”
Recognizing the defiant note in Diana’s voice, Helen rolled over to study her sister in the flickering light. “As Mama said, many men will attend your ball who are of a suitable age and disposition.”
“I expected such a sensible reply from you, Helen.” Diana yawned. “You don’t have my passion for life. I can’t imagine you falling madly in love with someone entirely unsuitable. Blow out the candle, will you? I’m sleepy.”
She supposed Diana was right. Helen rubbed her arms and lay staring into the dark. She well understood her sister’s attraction to Lord Peyton. She, too, had noticed his strength and confidence, but Helen had also detected a world-weariness in his eyes. She foresaw trouble ahead. Papa had always told Diana she could have anything in life she wished for. In Helen’s experience, it was a man’s world, and that was unlikely to change, for men controlled every aspect of a woman’s life.
She knew that Papa had hoped for one of his children to follow in his footsteps and share his work. Neither Toby nor their elder brother, Harry, were interested. And why should Harry be? His letters were filled with new discoveries on the Continent, and he would one day inherit Papa’s estate and a tidy fortune. Their father had some years ago concluded, somewhat unfairly, that Helen, or Hedgehog, as he affectionately called her, an animal who curled up into a ball when upset, would not be his chosen companion. And as Alexander was still a baby, that left Diana, who resembled him most in personality. Unfortunately, Helen suspected her sister’s show of interest in ancient works generally coincided with something Mama had refused her, which Papa inevitably agreed to.
***
Jason realized Charlie had arrived home as soon as he put a foot in the door. Russell’s face split into a smile as he directed Jason to the kitchen. The sound of laughter emanated from below as Jason descended the stairs. Laughter had not been heard in this house for some time. He paused with a hand on the banister, realizing how much he had missed it.
Jason continued down the stairs. All very well, but Charlie required a strong hand, and before their father died, he had promised he’d see his scamp of a brother safely into adulthood.
Charlie sat at the scrubbed table, flirting outrageously with the kitchen maid while Cook placed before him a plate of thickly sliced ham, bread and butter, and a slab of fruit cake. The kitchen maid, who had been hanging on Charlie’s every word, caught sight of Jason, and turned red.
Charlie pushed back his chair and jumped up. “Jas! I was hoping I’d see you before I went out.” He thumped Jason’s back and enveloped him in a hug.
Jason grinned despite himself. “It is good to see you, Charlie.” He forced his features into a stern expression as he joined him at the table and picked up a piece of ham from his plate. Swallowing the tasty ham, he accepted a good strong cup of tea from Cook. “A pity it’s under such distressing circumstances. Where might you be dashing off to?”
“Came down on a stage coach. Met a fellow who’s going to the cockfights. Thought I might join him.”
At that, Jason tossed back the tea and put down the cup. “Finish up your food and then join me in the library, will you?” He climbed to his feet.
“Yes, of course, Jas. I believe I have time before—”
“And allow Molly to get on with her work.”
The girl flushed again and bowed her head over the peas she was shelling.
“Forgive me, milord.” Cook anxiously pleated her apron. “It’s just that I haven’t seen Mister Charles since last year when we was all back at Peyton Grove.”
Jason smiled. “Perfectly understandable, Cook. You have known my rascal brother since he was a lad. Of course, you enjoy seeing him again. As do I.”
He returned upstairs, thinking that Charlie could charm anyone in skirts, even the fearsome Mrs. Newbold, their housekeeper, who would no doubt soon succumb. But where was their sister?
When he tapped on Lizzie’s door, her maid opened it. “Lady Greywood is walking in the park with a gentleman, milord.”
“Which gentleman, Sally?” he asked in surprise. “And why didn’t you accompany her?”
“As it was merely a short stroll, my lord, my presence was not required.” The tone of her voice revealed her disapproval. Sally had been Lizzie’s lady’s maid when her beloved husband, Greywood, had suffered a mortal wound during a shooting accident. Since then Sally had become most protective of her. The maid hurried over to the dressing table and picked up a card, returning to hand it to him.
