But she didn’t move. “Cam?”
He turned toward, but his face was blank, as if he’d forgotten she was there.
“Shall we go up?” Eleanor nodded toward the house. “The others are waiting.”
He glanced up the drive. His face was pale and set, but her words jarred him from whatever trance he’d been in, and he nudged his horse forward. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
The horses’ hooves made a muffled crunch against the gravel drive as they rode slowly toward the manor house, the air so still, so silent, the sound seemed deafening.
“There you are,” Charlotte called when they neared the entrance. “I thought you’d never come up. I hope you didn’t ride for too long, Eleanor.”
Eleanor shook her head, but didn’t answer. She watched as Cam dismounted and walked toward the woman who stood in the drive, waiting to receive him.
“Aunt Mary.” He kissed her on the cheek.
She smiled and laid a palm against his face, but her expression was melancholy as she gazed up at him. “Camden. Welcome home.”
Some of the color seeped back into his face at her words, and the tight ache in Eleanor’s chest began to ease.
But her relief was short-lived.
“Back here now, are you? I’d have thought you’d have plenty to occupy you at your fancy townhouse in London.”
Eleanor turned to find a tall, grey-haired man standing just outside the door, his lip curled with distaste as he glared at Cam. There may have been a strong resemblance between the two men at one time, but the older man’s handsomeness had long ago succumbed to age and bad temper. His jaw sagged with years of dissatisfaction, but above his hard mouth and reddened nose his watery green eyes were still shrewd. Shrewd, and ruthless.
Reginald West.
Mary West’s spine went stiff and she seemed to shrink down until she was absorbed into the gravel at their feet. Her hand dropped away from Cam’s face and she darted a guilty look behind her. “Reginald—”
“Where’s Julian?” the man snapped, as if his wife hadn’t spoken.
Cam bowed stiffly. “Good afternoon, Uncle Reggie. Julian had business in town. He wasn’t able to accompany us.”
Reginald West grunted. “Business. You didn’t invite him, more likely. Want to keep it all to yourself, don’t you?”
Cam said nothing in reply to that, but turned toward his guests. Robyn had dismounted and now stood by his horse, his face puzzled. Only Ellie was near enough to hear the exchange between Cam and his uncle, but the air around them all buzzed with tension, as if a violent storm were about to crash down on their heads.
The ladies fell silent. Everyone seemed frozen in their places—all but the horses, who shifted their feet nervously. After a moment, Alec reached up to assist the ladies down from the carriage.
The movement loosened Cam’s tongue. “These are my friends from town. Lord and Lady Carlisle, Mrs. Lily and Mr. Robert Sutherland, Lady Eleanor and Lady Charlotte Sutherland. My aunt and uncle, Mary and Reginald West.”
“Sutherland.” No one heard Aunt Mary’s faint exclamation except Eleanor, who was close to Cam, still mounted on Alec’s horse. She turned just in time to see the woman’s face drain of color.
Eleanor’s hands went icy cold.What in the world—
“Sutherland.” Reginald West turned narrowed eyes on Cam. “What are you about, boy?”
Cam closed in on his uncle. He kept his voice low, but Eleanor heard him, and shivered at the menace in his tone. “I’m not a boy anymore, uncle. You’d do well to remember that. Just a bit of hunting,” he added aloud, stepping back. “Has there been any good sport?”
Reginald West had lost some of his bluster at Cam’s warning. “I—I’ve no idea. I haven’t been out.”
Cam turned toward his guests. “Some luncheon, I think, and then hunting this afternoon? Ladies, we apologize for abandoning you so soon, but perhaps Amelia will show you the gardens later.” He held out his hand to his sister.
Amelia took it with an artless smile. “The rhododendrons are in bloom now, aren’t they, Aunt Mary? Purple ones. There are purple ones in London, too, but they’re not as nice as these. Will you come see them after luncheon, Lady Eleanor?”
Eleanor dismounted and handed her reins to a groom. “Yes, of course. A walk in the garden after luncheon sounds just the thing.”
She soon discovered a walk in the gardeninsteadof luncheon would have been even better. Despite Amelia’s sunny presence, it was a tense affair. Reginald West sat at the head of the table, ate a good deal, drank more, and spoke only to Alec. He seemed somewhat appeased to have an earl at his table, but Alec, who was forced to endure the man’s officious attention, looked less so.
