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Freddie looked at his friends. “What about you, gentlemen? Are you going to join the party?”

“I suppose so,” Stan said. “I should like to be there if something dire should happen to you.” He gave Freddie a dangerous smile.

“You should like to be there, or you should like to do it?” Freddie asked.

“Perhaps he’ll be happy with either,” Fin said, his lips twitching.

Pippy walked farther into the library, picking up a book off the side table. “May I join you until it’s time to change for skating?”

Fin and Stan looked at each other. “Of course, my lady,” Fin said.

Pippy sat on the settee, her book in her lap.

The three men fell silent. The glances he received from Fin and Stan, however, said they were not done with the conversation.

“I believe I’ll return to my chambers,” Stan said, rising.

“Yes, I believe I will too,” Fin agreed.

Pippy looked up from her book. “I’ve not driven you away, have I, my lords?”

They both smiled and shook their heads. “Of course not, my lady,” Stan said.

“I have some correspondence I only just remembered needs my attention,” Fin said with a bow. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course,” Pippy said.

Freddie moved and settled next to Pippy on the settee. If he was not to entertain his friends, why should he not sit next to his wife? Perhaps her nearness would provide some clarity.

Fin’s brow rose.

As did Stan’s.

Freddie ignored them both. “We’ll meet you at the lake?”

“Indeed,” Stan said as Fin nodded.

Pippy watched them leave, then she leaned in close. Her breath tickled the side of Freddie’s neck. It provided nothing resembling clarity. “Why does Lord Stanhope wish to see something dire happen to you?”

“Ah, I’m certain he was in jest,” Freddie said.

She frowned. “He did not look to be in jest.”

“That’s Stan’s way.” He smiled down at her. “You need not fret about it. I’ll be fine.” But he made a mental note to stay away from Stan while on the ice. It was better to be safe than wet and cold.

Nineteen

Freddie carried his and Pippy’s skates in one hand, while keeping her hand tight against his ribs. They walked down the path to the pond at the back of the estate. He wondered briefly which servants his aunt had enlisted to pack down the nearly foot of snow.

It was cold, but it was no bother—at least to him. It only made Pippy move closer.

Evie, however, seemed to balk enough for all of them. “Why must we skate when it is still so cold out?” she complained.

“If it’s not cold, then the pond doesn’t freeze,” Ari said impatiently. “It’ll be delightful, Evie. I’m certain of it.”

Pippy tightened her hand around the crook of his arm.

He grinned. He could honestly say he was content with his life. His marriage had proven to be more than tolerable. Why had he been so reluctant all those years to marry? Why had he thought it a chore or a drudgery?