“Vee, where are you going?” Cindy called.
Javenia glanced over her shoulder to see her sister’s pinched eyes and twiddling fingers. Cindy tipped her head in Algenon’s direction, lifting her eyebrows for emphasis. Of course her lovelorn sister would want her to fall atMr. Roberts’sfeet.
“Cindy, you may tellMr. Robertshe is in my black books again.”
Algenon laughed. Not a polite chuckle, but a full, sincere expression of mirth. They always reverted to formal names when they were at odds, but he didn’t take the bait. “It’s nice to see you too, Javenia.”
A tiny smile split her lips at the sound of her name, but she didn’t turn back. She needed a day to process his arrival before she could truly know how to proceed.
If she’d learned anything in the last four months, it was how much she hated the distance their little games kept between them, but how else was she supposed to keep the lines from blurring? Their fathers had rules, and while her father might eventually be willing to bend, Lord Roberts would rather go to his grave than allow his son to give in to the tension that zinged between them like tightly strung violin strings.
Then again, maybe she was the only one who felt it.
At the door, she allowed herself one little peek before leaving. He looked good… so good, but his attention had already been stolen by one of his sisters.
And there was the sting.
While Javenia knew he cared for her, there was one person’s approval Algenon wanted more than any other in the world, and it was not hers.
So she’d leave today, and probably every other day after that.
Even if it broke her heart.
Chapter 2
The tittering of females was enough to drive Algenon to do the one thing he’d avoided at all costs since his return to Blackthorn Manor the day before—answer his father’s summons.
It was that or stay with his plethora of sisters and listen to them discuss silks and laces for the upcoming ball. Twenty-four hours home and they had already decided everything he should wear down to his silk stockings and then insisted that he take them all to Maidstone for new gowns. Heaven forbid they should wear any of their current gowns for the annual Harvest Ball.
The moment he stepped from the busy morning room, he took a deep cleansing breath, free from floral perfumes and giggling girls. Not that he disliked his sisters—all twelve of them—but he’d forgotten how overwhelming their constant chatter could be.
Paulette, Henrietta, and Georgette had all come for a visit, excited to join in the harvest celebrations. Since their marriages,the din had significantly lessened, but with them all under the same roof again, no man was safe from their constant schemes.
Henrietta’s husband had done the wise thing and continued on to London to prepare for the season. Where had his other two brothers-in-law hidden away? Probably in Maidstone for the day. He didn’t blame them. As a man who’d grown up with a gaggle of women, he was used to all their talk of finery, flowers, and feminine troubles, but any other male would probably be completely out of their element.
A tiny part of him actually enjoyed having them all back to fuss over him. He’d missed Paulette’s sensibleness, Henrietta’s cheer, and Georgette’s keen awareness of others. It would be sad when Philippa and Charlotte went off to their own homes, even though he often found them ridiculously absurd—in the most entertaining of ways. Then again, he still had several sisters in the nursery to fill their places.
He groaned and rubbed his temples. Nine. There were nine sisters yet to help on their ways to happy marriages. Nine possible lifetime dependents, should anything happen to his father.
Thankfully, his father was still as domineering and stubborn as ever. Something that would probably keep him alive just to spite the world.
Algenon covered his sardonic smile with his hand, trying not to draw the attention of the half-dozen servants working as he traversed the hall. While he was grateful his father still lived, he could do without his heavy-handed control over his life.
His short visit to Hazelwood yesterday morning had been his only reprieve. A lightness entered his step. It had been good to see Javenia again. More than good. It had filled his soul with the peace he’d missed since his father had ordered him to Ipswich at the end of the season.
Had he seen the subtle shift between him and Javenia? Probably. Why else would he banish Algenon until the beginning of the next season?
A footman carrying a tray stopped at the study door, allowing Algenon to be the first to rap on the thick oak. Not that he wanted to. He’d rather put bamboo splinters under his fingernails than spend a quarter hour with his father, but it had to be done.
The door was flat with no frills. The same as his father.Why waste precious time and money on frivolities, he’d once said.
Algenon took a deep breath to steady himself, then knocked.
“Come in,” came the curt reply.
Balancing the tray in one hand, the footman opened the door. Algenon preceded him, taking his place in front of his father’s large, equally plain desk. Every line on it was straight, every edge perfectly shaped. It seemed as immovable as the man bent over his ledgers.
“Set it over there, Gates.” His father motioned to the little table near the fire without looking up.
