“You needn’t be. Everyone in London knows you by your wicked reputation.”
“You wound me, Lady Cora.” Lord Barnaby pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes dancing. “I’m not so very wicked, am I?”
“Wicked enough. Weren’t you sent down from Oxford for playing cricket in Christ Church Chapel?”
“That? It was just a bit of youthful high spirits, Lady Cora, and anyway, it was years ago.”
“Twoyears ago, I believe. And didn’t you shoot Lord Lewellyn in the foot in a duel this past spring?”
“It wasn’t his entire foot, merely his big toe.”
“Then there was that disgraceful business at Lord Buckley’s rout, with Lady Irving’s pet pig and a pot of treacle—”
“Pardon me, Lord Barnaby, Lady Cora, but I must go upstairs and check on Lady Fosberry.” Juliet scrambled from her seat and darted to the door. “I do hope you’ll both enjoy the hunting party.”
“Must you go, truly?” Lady Cora’s pink lips turned down, her blue eyes shone as if they were a breath away from filling with lovely, crystalline tears, and she was looking at Juliet like a castaway watches a ship vanishing into the horizon.
“I—I’m afraid so.” Oh,whymust she disappoint the only young lady who’d shown her any kindness since the season’s debacle? She might even have found a new friend in Lady Cora, and God knew she had few enough of those.
Butnothingcould induce her to stay here after what had passed between her and Lord Cross last night. He might sink to his knees and plead with her to remain at Steeple Cross…
Well, that was just another silly, romantic notion, wasn’t it?
There was no need for her to imagine what she’d say to Lord Cross if he begged her to stay, because that was never going to happen.
ChapterSix
“I’ve made my decision, Cross.” Barnaby threw himself into the chair across from Miles’s desk, one leg dangling over his knee. “My fate is sealed, my destiny determined, my hopes and dreams at last revealed in all their exquisite glory.”
“Oh? What’s your destiny this time?” Miles didn’t bother looking up from the papers scattered across his desk. Barnaby was forever discovering his destiny, and Miles did have a great many letters to write.
“Why, Lady Cora Drummond, of course. I’ve just seen her in the breakfast parlor. I’m going to marry her.”
Miles’s quill faltered, and he gaped over the edge of his spectacles at his cousin. “You haven’t laid eyes on Lady Cora in years, Barnaby! How in God’s name can you have chosen her as your viscountess already? You couldn’t have spent more than half an hour with her at breakfast!”
“Half an hour is more than enough time to fall in love, Cross.”
“It’s not yet ten o’clock in the morning! No one falls in love before ten o’clock in the morning.” It was unseemly. “Love is no place for excess, Barnaby.”
Barnaby gave him a pitying look. “Oh, Cross. You poor devil. You don’t know a damned thing about love.”
“I know a man should choose a wife with a bit more consideration than he does his morning pastry. You haven’t even met all the other young ladies yet!”
“I don’t need to meet them. My mind is made up. Do you approve of my choice?”
How could anyonenotapprove of Lady Cora? Indeed, it was she, more than any of the other young ladies he’d brought to Steeple Cross, who was ideally suited to become Barnaby’s bride. She was intelligent, charming, and sweet-tempered, but not without spirit, for all her gentleness. “I do indeed.”
A young lady like Lady Cora Drummond could be the making of Barnaby.
“Good man, Cross! There’s only one small problem. She didn’t appear to share my enthusiasm at breakfast this morning.”
“Share your enthusiasm?”
Barnaby grinned with unmistakable relish. “Shedespisesme.”
“She doesn’t despise you, Barnaby.” Lady Cora wasn’t the sort to despise anyone, and despite his occasional pets and freakish whims, no one despised Barnaby. Evenhedidn’t despise his cousin, and he despised nearly everyone.
“Certainly, she does. Any lady of any sense would. I don’t wish to shock you, Cross, but my reputation isn’t quite as spotless as a prudent young lady might wish.”
