Harry folded his arms. “I suspectErina could start an argument in an empty room.”
Jack laughed. “Take care, Harry. Thoseeyes of hers can certainly flash.”
“I prefer a quiet woman,like Miss Florence Beckworth.”
The fair Florence had the look of afrightened mouse. To give her the benefit of the doubt, her shynessmight mask intelligence. “A milk and water miss? Who won’tchallenge you? How dull that would be.”
“Why has the conversationturned to women?” Tim gave a snort of disgust. “I’d rather talkabout Tiresias, the Duke of Portland’s horse that won The Derby infine style.”
“Because women are moreinteresting than horses.” Jack smiled at the buxom tavern wench whocarried four pots of ale, two in each hand. She placed them on thetable without spilling a drop and winked at him.
“Not always,” Timgrumbled.
“As the son of a baron, youwill be expected to marry, Tim.” Jack took hold of his tankard.“You need to produce an heir.” He chuckled and slapped him on theback. “And, anyway, I like talking about women. I like women.” Hewas without regular feminine company since his mistress remarried.Not such a bad thing, it contributed to his sense of freedom. Nowthere was nothing to hold him here.
“I like them in bed,” Timsaid. “But out of it, they can join their sewing circles orwhatever they do and leave me to my own devices.”
“Strong words, Tim.” Jackrecalled that Tim had taken it badly when a lady ended their affaira year ago, after finding a gentleman with deeper pockets. “What ifyou come to love one of them?”
“Redheads are said to bepassionate romantic fellows, are they not?” Harrymocked.
“And always with a devil ofa temper,” Miles added, joining in the roasting.
“Enough.” Tim smiled andscrubbed his hand through his auburn locks. “Romance is for women.How about a game of billiards?”
~~~
Roundtree Park, WalthamAbbey, Essex
Erina Rountree finished tending to herhorse and had a few words with the groom about the mare’s leftfetlock joint. Reassured, she left the stables and the smells ofhay, saddle oil, leather, and horse behind and walked back alongthe driveway to the house. She had received a worrying letter fromher Irish cousin. She must speak to her father about it.
She entered the front door and crossedthe chequerboard tiles of the entry hall, as Roberts, their butler,appeared from the servants’ door.
He flinched at her soiled ridingboots. “Your father requires your presence in the library, LadyErina.”
She raised her skirts a little,examined her boots and gasped in mock horror. “Thank you,Roberts.”
She left him but not before she saw asmall smile twitch his lips.
It would not be good news. Her fatherstood awaiting her presence. She preferred it when he sat andsmoked his pipe.
“I have just received aletter from the baronet, Sir Ambrose Feather. He has agreed to theterms of your union with his son.”
Erina stared at him as the meaning ofhis words took hold. It wasn’t just bad news, it was positivelyghastly. She placed her hands on her hips. “Marry Mr. HaroldFeather? That’s ridiculous! I will not!”
Father eyed her cautiously and shookhis head. “You are like your mother. Irish forebears.” He made itsound damning, which riled her further. Her mother was from a fineIrish family. She had never met them but had begun correspondingwith her cousin Cathleen two years ago, discovering they shared aninterest in animals, especially horses. Erina hated that she wasunable to help her.
“My dear child you will doas you are bid.” He was exasperated but apparently not surprised byher reaction. “It is an excellent match. Harold is heir to a largefortune. You will be kept in the manner any woman would covet. Avast improvement on this. Look around you.” With a sweep of hisarm, he indicated the worn chair coverings and faded carpet. Themagnificent gold leaf missing in spots on the cornices. “Goodlineage is the only thing on offer here. As for your youthfulbeauty, Erina, it won’t last forever.” He shook his head. “It’s notan easy task for me to find you a husband. You are uncommonly talllike your mother and have no dowry to speak of.”
Erina bit her lip. She’d reacted withher usual lamentable burst of temper. If only she’d taken time tothink of a tactful way to appease him. But she doubted it wouldhave made any difference. She loved her father but suspected he wasthinking more about the upkeep of the estate. Their presentcircumstances came from unsound investments his man of business puthim onto. This marriage was to be an injection of funds into theirempty coffers, at her expense. It didn’t matter what she might wantfor herself. “Harold doesn’t even like me. We tend to disagree. Andhe is too short for me.”
“You’ll be lucky to find ahusband at all with your temper, my girl.” Father rested a hand onthe fireplace overmantel and drew himself up to his full heightwhich wasn’t above average. “He’s too short? Is height now aprerequisite for marriage? I’ve never heard the like. What hashappened to the world? Young people today! Good marriages don’tnecessarily begin as a love match. Sometimes it’s more importantjust to like the person. And you do like him?”
“Like him? Well, I don’tdislike him, but that’s not…” she frowned. “Harold won’t be anyhappier about this arrangement than I am.” In fact, Erina hopedHarold would create enough of a fuss to prevent it. Unless hisfather was a tyrant like hers. There was no point in arguing withhim. She would have to think of a way out of it. But she neededtime.
“I had hoped you might takeme to Ireland, Papa.”
“Ireland? Why would I dothat?”
