“Indeed?” How interesting. At last, here was some information on the elusive Camden West. Even better, it was information he didn’t want her to have.
God bless them, siblings withloose tongues.
“Why, how surprising—” Ellie began, prepared to get as much information as she could, politeness be damned, when she was interrupted by a shout from Robyn.
“Ellie!”
He’d ridden some distance ahead of the rest of the party, but now Ellie looked up to find him charging toward them. He pulled his horse to a sharp stop next to Cam’s. “Ellie, you know where we are, don’t you?”
“We’re in Hertfordshire, Robyn,” Ellie said, with exaggerated patience.
Robyn rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, I realize we’re in Hertfordshire, but do you know whose estate is less than two miles east of here?”
Dread pooled in Eleanor’s belly as she realized what Robyn meant.Oh, no. No. He couldn’t be so dense as to bring up Durham now, right in front of Camden West.
“Robyn—”
“The Marquess of Durham!”
Blast him, hewas dense enough.
Devil take them, siblings withloose tongues.
Cam shifted his mount a little closer to Robyn’s, an intrigued look on his face. “Yes, that’s right. His estate lies not three miles from Lindenhurst. Are you acquainted with him?”
“Not really,” Ellie said. She shot a warning look at Robyn.
But he either didn’t notice it, or chose to ignore it. “Of course we know him. We’d be family even now if Ellie hadn’t sent him on his way.”
If she could only manage to remove her riding boot, she could throw it at her brother’s head.
Cam turned his gaze upon Ellie, and a mocking smile spread over his face. “Is that so? I’ve heard rumors about Lady Eleanor’s numerous suitors, but I hadn’t heard the Marquess of Durham was among them.”
Robyn shrugged. “Oh, not many people know about it. It was before her first season. Shall we go tour the estate? I’ve heard it’s impressive, though of course we never had a chance to find out. Too bad, too. Durham’s a good fellow.”
Ellie didn’t say a word, but the heat of her glare must have at last penetrated Robyn’s thick skull, for he finally seemed to catch on. “Oh, well, perhaps not. That is . . . Amelia! Do you fancy a race?”
Amelia, who’d grown bored and begun to squirm in her saddle, perked up at this. “May I, Denny?”
Cam looked as though he couldn’t get rid of the two of them fast enough. “By all means.”
The two trotted away, for all the world as if they’d not left mayhem and destruction in their wake.
Eleanor flicked the reins, set Alec’s horse to a walk, and waited.
Cam brought his horse into step beside hers. “Six.”
“I beg your pardon?” Eleanor asked, though she knew very well what he referred to.
“Six suitors. Not five, and one of them the Marquess of Durham. Respectable family, wealthy, intelligent, and not yet in his dotage. Handsome, too, if the ladies can be trusted. I can’t think of a single objection to him.”
Eleanor’s fingers tightened on the reins. She’d heard this all before. “No one can.”
“Youdid.”
She had, yes, but she didn’t intend to explain the nature of that objection to Camden West. He’d think she was mad, just as everyone else had. Mad, or selfish, or intolerably arrogant.
And maybe she was. Maybe, after all, she had no right to believe she could have more than anyone else did, and yet it had always seemed such a simple thing to her, to want love—to expect it, even. To wait for it.
