“Yes?” Charles pushed wet hair out of his eyes with both hands and took up the washcloth.
Feeley turned to lay out the nightshirt Charles chose to wear when away from home. “Lady Cornelia is very much liked,” he said over his shoulder.
“Mm?” Charles leaned back and closed his eyes. A vision of Nellie floated into his mind. How soft her mouth was against his, her husky laughter when she beat him on Clover, that overfed mare of hers. He enjoyed the intriguing glimpse of her seductive playfulness. It was very appealing how she unconsciously stirred a man’s lust. He was sure a civilized and pleasurable marriage awaited him.
“And there’s a maid here,” Feeley said, holding the towel. “Lilly, her name is. Very pretty, she is.”
Charles opened his eyes. He pushed an errant wet lock of hair back from his forehead. “Feeley, have you forgotten my instructions?”
“No, Your Grace. But it will be difficult as I’ll see her again after you’re married. Being the duchess’s lady’s maid and all.”
Charles stood and stepped out, dripping water onto the hearth tiles. He took the towel from his valet and began to dry himself. “Your future employment is hanging by a thread right now, Feeley.”
“I am listening, for sure I am, Your Grace,” Feeley said, far too meekly for Charles’s liking.
Chapter Four
The men wereout with their guns by the time Nellie opened her eyes. Lilly drew back the curtains, and the early morning sun filtered in. It failed to remove the chill from the room. Nellie pulled up her blankets and flinched at the gunshots echoing from the woods as she sipped her chocolate and ate a slice of toast.
When Lilly took Peter down for his morning walk and to feed him, Nellie donned her dressing gown and slippers and sought her sister in her bedchamber. Still abed, Marian declared her husband woke her far too early before rushing off to join the shooting party.
“At least we have the day free,” Nellie said. “Except for Nat, who isn’t taking a gun out. He prefers to play shuttlecock.”
“He has always been mad about the game. Mainly because he beats us.” In a lacy peignoir, Marian put down her cup, yawned, and stretched. She looked rested and so content, she made Nellie a little envious. “Do you think you might warm to Shewsbury?”
Nellie fiddled with the ribbon on her dressing gown. “I have found nothing to disturb me about him so far.”
“Well, that’s damning the fellow with faint praise.” Her sister giggled as she took a sweet roll from the plate on the tray. She lavishly spread butter and sweet blackberry jam onto it, then bit into it with a sigh of satisfaction.
“I need time,” Nellie protested. It was because the man was so attractive. When his blue gaze observed her last evening, she found it difficult to think. “We have differences to overcome.”
“What men and women haven’t? We are different animals. They are out having a lovely time with their spaniels and their guns and will come home all muddy and contented with their birds for the table. Like primitive huntsmen killing a boar to feed their womenfolk.”
Nellie laughed. “How you do go on. You know I hate animals killed for sport, but I know there’s a purpose behind it. The birds cannot be allowed to over-breed, for they will run out of food. Rabbits must be controlled. I don’t deny foxes cause problems, but fox hunting is unnecessarily cruel.”
Marian threw back the covers and rose. “Let’s not get onto your pet subject. It is too early.” She rang for her maid. “I plan a leisurely bath, after which, I will see you downstairs. Papa asked me to invite some of our guests for a stroll to the lake. You should come, too.”
“I suppose so, although I will be fending off subtle inquiries about my engagement.”
“Some not too subtle, I fear.” Marian paused as her maid entered. “A bath, Becca, send for hot water.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Nellie nodded to the maid and left her sister to her ablutions. What would she wear?
In her bedchamber, she asked Lilly to take out the primrose muslin with the embroidered vandyke trim around the hem. The color flattered her, and she wished to look her best, although she doubted she’d see much of Charles today.
After their promenade to the lake, the guests arrived back at the house for luncheon. Nellie was exhausted from fending off their questions, but they all took it in good part when she smilingly rebuffed them, confident, no doubt, that her father would announce the engagement at the ball.
She almost welcomed the game of shuttlecock with Nat, Alice, and Marian after luncheon to escape further scrutiny.
Nat and Alice were partners. They declared a win after a particularly hard thrust of Nat’s sent the shuttlecock into the middle of the rose garden. With a satisfied smile, he took Eliza’s arm and led his wife, who had been watching them, off for a stroll in the shrubbery.
“He’s a disgrace,” Nellie muttered, angrier with him for his flirtations than his overbearing play. She called to Peter, who was sniffing at a bush.
“I know. I doubt it would do much good to mention it. Our brother is a man now and will not take kindly to a dressing down from his sisters on a matter such as that. Let’s walk,” Marian said. “We might meet the men coming back. I haven’t heard a gunshot for a while.”
With Peter on a lead, they ambled along the bridle path through the trees, the smell of gun smoke reaching them on the breeze. They soon met the beaters pulling a barrow filled with birds. The men followed, laughing together, guns resting on their shoulders, the dogs at their heels. Peter yapped, and Nellie picked up her nervous dog.
