Page 53 of Miss Devon’s Choice

Rebecca lost herself in reading to the point that she didn’t hear the approach of a carriage until the driver shouted, startling her enough that she raised up to see who had come.

Her blood ran colder than the stone bench and her stomach gave a faint dip that nearly made her sick.

The Devon carriage stood before the house, four white horses pawing at the ground while drivers and footmen scurried about the vehicle. Rebecca slowly lowered herself against the bench, hoping she had not been seen. The shade was the only thing hiding her, though her dress was a muted violet that would blend well with the stone.

The tall, straight-backed figure of her father passed between the carriage and the house, entering it without even looking behind him. Rebecca relaxed, glad to escape his notice.

Then she saw another figure, also tall, and gangly, walk up the steps of the earl’s home.

She sat up quickly and took a stumbling step forward. Dare she?

“Harry,” she shouted, waving her arms in the air like a lunatic.

Her brother heard her and turned, then raised a hand to his eyes to block the sun. She knew the instant he recognized her, as his whole posture changed and he waved back. Then he pointed to the house and at her. He wanted her to come inside. She supposed he couldn’t very well join her without their father noticing Harry’s absence. Rebecca waved back and gathered her books, then went to the side of the house at a run.

As quickly as she could manage, she was up the servants’ staircase and in her room, ringing for Hettie.

Rebecca hadn’t damaged her gown, but she knew it wasn’t the thing to wear in front of her father. Unfortunately, she would need to put on something of a finer make, and that meant a great deal of flounces and lace. When Hettie arrived, Rebecca didn’t give her even a moment to speak before she started issuing orders.

Though she couldn’t trust the maid with her secrets, Rebecca knew Hettie was quite excellent at her job. In less than a quarter of an hour, Rebecca’s dress had been changed to a bright green gown. The color always made her feel a trifle ill when she wore it, but it had the requisite lines and frills her aunt insisted was the height of fashion.

After one last glance in the looking glass, Rebecca thanked Hettie for her help and hurried from the room. She had no wish to see her father. But Harry hadn’t been to see her in three months at least. She adored her younger brother. Though four years separated them in age, they’d become close.

After they lost their mother, Julia had taken to looking after all of them, but Harry preferred Rebecca’s company to the other sisters. He would steal away to her room sometimes, when he woke from a bad dream, and she would read to him until he fell asleep or the sun rose, whichever came first.

An obliging footman informed her that the new guests were in the morning room with the countess. Some of the tension left Rebecca’s shoulders. Her father wouldn’t be too harsh in front of Virginia.

She entered the room, her eyes finding Harry standing near the window, before she necessarily turned to her father and made her curtsy.

“Father, what a surprise. I did not think we would see you in Kettering this summer.” There. Each word was polite without being overly warm or standoffish.

Her father grimaced and came forward, his cool blue eyes taking in her gown and hair, then studying her face. “I understand I am not the only surprise guest. Lord Easton is here.” Though there was no accusation in his tone, his eyes narrowed. He knew she had managed to invite the viscount to the country.

“Isn’t it lovely that my cousin invited him, too?” Rebecca said as smoothly as she could. There could be no weakness, no tremor or uncertainty in her voice, if she was to make certain he didn’t believe her to be the one who instigated the invitation.

Thankfully, Virginia understood. “It seemed right to do so, given the announcement of your betrothal. What better way for young people to get to know one another than at a house party? They are well-chaperoned and have all sorts of amusements to enjoy.” Virginia came forward and deftly took her uncle’s arm. “And now you are here, it will only add to the occasion. How long will you be at your estate, Uncle?”

“A fortnight,” he answered evenly. Though he didn’t much care for Virginia, he would never be openly rude to the wife of an earl.

“That is lovely news. You must come to dinner this evening. It will be delightful to have you. I’m certain my mother will look forward to seeing her dear brother. I will seat you together, of course.”

Rebecca nearly giggled at the way her father’s head jerked when he heard that suggestion. Virginia’s tone, light and careless, didn’t at all indicate her words were meant as a threat.

“I am afraid I will be needed at my estate for the time being. There are things I must settle there before I may socialize. Perhaps another evening.”

Virginia pursed her lips as though disappointed, but she nodded her understanding. “Of course. I will send you a schedule of our events. You and Horace are more than welcome to join us any time. But Uncle, won’t you sit with me a moment? There is a matter I would consult with you about. I have sought my mother’s advice, but I would like to hear what you have to say.” With skill, cunning, and a guileless smile, Virginia steered Father away and allowed Rebecca to turn and greet her brother.

Harry was taller than when Rebecca had last seen him and looked as though he had been all stretched out. His hands, which had always been large, completely engulfed hers when he lifted them.

“Rebecca,” he said, his voice a trifle scratchy. “I cannot believe you’re getting married.”

Glancing over her shoulder at their occupied father, Rebecca took her brother’s wrist and pulled him quickly from the room, saying loudly, “You absolutely must see what the earl has done to the gallery.”

Harry wisely closed his mouth and followed until they were down one long hallway and then in the family portrait gallery. He tugged out of Rebecca’s grasp at that point and reached out to take her shoulders and pull her into an embrace.

Somehow, the boy was taller than she was. Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears as she returned the hug. When had he grown up? When had she?

“Are you all right?” Harry asked, his voice more subdued. “Father hasn’t exactly been gentle in his talk of this arrangement. He seems…somewhat obsessed over it.”