“Aunt, as long as they hold tea, I, for one, can’t say it matters.”
“Twaddle! A teacup represents your home and station in life. Men! I called upon that Lady Tremblelip’s once and she gave me a chipped Coalport. I ask you! And why are you limping still? Not another pistol mishap?”
“Ah, well, I’m glad you’ve asked, Aunt, because therein lies a tale…” He waggled his eyebrows. “Can you believe that some wicked jade near Pall Mall appropriated my custom-made Hoby boots? I managed to purchase a pair from a lumberman but they chafed like knives, so I was forced to walk in stockinged feet all the way home. Not a carriage would halt for me.” He shook his head. “Other than Lord Linton who stopped to ask if it was a new fashion.”
“Bared feet? Fashion?” Lady Kemble tutted. “Whatever next? No cravat? The sky will fall.”
“Oh, Uncle, what a bag of moonshine that tale is!” Phoebe sniggered. “Why would anyone want your boots?”
“Why indeed, my bird of paradise, but so it was.” And he cast his elfin malapert of a governess a narrow-eyed glance. “But I cannot speak for the wicked jade herself.”
Amelia cleared her throat. “Perhaps, Sir, this wicked jade felt she had just cause? Perhaps her need was greater than your own.”
Aunt nodded sagely.
Phoebe snorted.
Oh, how he was going to silence that nimble tongue of Amelia’s one day and images of her naked and at his mercy amidst green silk sheets beset him… He shook his head and shifted his chair further beneath the table.
“I sincerely hope,” muttered Aunt, “you will desist from joggling about like that when we take tea with Miss Berrycloth-Birdwhistle next week. It’s as though you have ants in your unmentionables. Though I fail to see where ants could find the room in there.”
“Do you search out debutantes with the most ridiculous names on purpose?”
A small smile quirked Aunt’s lips. “Be thankful I declined to invite Miss Ponsonby-Piddlehinton from Dorset. She has a sister who birthed twins.”
He riffled the Debrett’s bureau of his brain. “She’s little more than seventeen, if I recall, Aunt. That’s only two years older than Phoebe.”
“Eugh!” cried Phoebe.
“Shame to quibble over years as her tatting is exemplary. Oh, Hugh, why must you be so abstruse! How about Miss Damson-Dankworth then?”
Were his saucebox of a governess’ lips trembling in suppressed mirth?
Hugh could not resist. After all, it wasn’t the taking part that mattered, but the winning.
“Miss Ponsonby-Piddlehinton excels at tatting, you say? Why did you not tell of this earlier, Aunt? For possession of such a miraculous skill assuredly elevates any young lady to the realms of the divine…” He placed a hand to his chin in faux thoughtfulness. “I wonder, Miss Jones, do you haveyour tatting work to show Lady Kemble?” And he raised his brows nigh to the ceiling.
How underhand.
And an image formed ofHughCadwalader ensnared within a six-foot roll of tatting, rather like a fly flailing within a spider’s web. But with tranquil expression, Amelia reached into the carpetbag at her side, moved Miss Appleton’s tome, and brought forth a folded linen cloth.
A glance passed between herself and dearest Phoebe before she rose from the chaise and crossed the breakfast room to stand before Lady Kemble. “I happen to have this on me. Just a small sample as there’s not much time for leisure at the moment. All the…knowledge to be imparted and so on.”
And Amelia folded back the linen to reveal Phoebe’s beautiful butterfly.
“Oh, I say!” gasped Lady Kemble, raising her quizzing glass. “How superb.”
Amelia felt rather than saw Mr Cadwalader arrive at her back, his nearness affecting her so.
“Exquisite,” he murmured, and she twisted her head to find him not staring at the tatting sample at all but at her.
Amelia’s inhalation caught; his eyes flickered.
They were so blue today. From this distance, she could see the ring of pure indigo that encircled the pupil, the hue onlyenhanced by the purple bruising to his cheek and the vibrant crimson gash to his forehead.
Not that she’d advocate being punched in the face to gain such vividness of colour but…
Those Cadwalader eyes managed to convey such varied emotions – teasing then serious, amiable then dangerous, and such feelings of…
