“And you said you weren’t going to get caught in the parson’s trap! In fact, last time you also said you’d rather single-handedly fight the French. Though I never believed you.”
Devon grinned. “Don’t look so surprised. You do need an heir. It would be criminal to let that fop Albert inherit. And when you said it, you’d always just spent time with your parents, especially your mother. Speaking of which, I assume the future Lady Arden has nothing in common with Queen Beatrice?”
“They are total opposites. If I thought for one moment she was anything like her, I’d…” Luc broke off, his face hardening as he considered what he would do.
“So how was your beloved mother?” There was so much irony in Devon’s tone the weight would sink a ship. “I assume you saw her?”
“She appeared in good health.”
“Who is her latest paramour?”
“She has been seen with one of Banbridge’s whelps quite often.”
“One of Mortimer Banbridge’s sons?”
At Luc’s nod, Devon shook his head.
Luc responded to his unspoken comment by shrugging. “I find it doesn’t bother me.” When his friend looked at him, eyebrow raised, he smiled ruefully. “She is an adult and entitled to her life. How she lives it is up to her.”
To himself he added, and how I live mine is equally my choice. I will no longer allow my parents behavior to influence me. I am not my father, and Ria is not my mother. She is caring, thoughtful, and above all honest and incapable of dissembling.
22
He was back.
Mrs. Smith, Devon’s housekeeper, had told Mr. Birch, the fishmonger, who told Mrs. Clover, the St. James cook, who told Flowerday who told Ria.
He would be coming to visit this afternoon. The housekeeper had also mentioned that to the fishmonger who told her cook who told Flowerday who told Ria.
Sometimes, just sometimes, village gossip was a good thing.
Ria looked across the morning room at Aunt Charity who, as usual, was busy embroidering. Unable to sit still, Ria put down her own embroidery and wandered over to the pianoforte. Idly she began to play the Turkish March from a Mozart sonata. The music was a perfect match to the bubbles of excitement cascading through her body.
As she waited for Luc, she tried to ignore the feelings of disquiet mixed with anticipation.
Since the accident, she had given in and let their situation unfold, deciding it would either flourish or wither but she would no longer try to resist him.
To her surprise, it had flourished even though, apart from one kiss, she had avoided any physical intimacy.
Luc hadn’t objected. He seemed to have changed since the accident and become more interested in just spending time with her and getting to know her. This, in turn, meant she had come to know him.
To know him and to care for him. As Ria began playing the second movement of Beethoven’s Pathetique Sonata, the expression and tempo became amoroso, and her fingers lovingly caressed the keys. She’d missed him while he was in London. A great deal.
He hadn’t mentioned the attempts on her life since finding Geoffrey at the manor. Before he left for London, she had decided to tell him everything, but once she resolved to do so, he had gone.
She needed to spend time with him alone. Which these days didn’t happen often as the ladies of the manor were being more assiduous in their chaperone duties. And if the ladies were not around, then Monty was or one of the servants—sometimes all of them.
Ria switched to playing Beethoven’s Turkish March, her fingers flying faster over the keys with a heavier touch. It seemed a bit late to observe the proprieties—she wasn’t sure why they were so diligent now, but she did know it was most inconvenient.
It was most likely because of Geoffrey. Her fingers hammered on the piano as she reached a crescendo.
Had Geoffrey meant to kill her? Her fingers slipped, then she picked up the melody again, playing loudly.
Throat tight, she saw again the scene in the village. She had been sure Mary was going to be killed. Then when the horse was rearing above them both, she’d thought they were going to die.
Geoffrey must have meant to kill her. Had he planned it or taken advantage of the opportunity presented? Would he try again? This time with a proper plan? Surely not. It would be too suspicious.
Nevertheless Ria was taking extra precautions. She hadn’t visited the village since the accident, and wherever she went on the estate, even to visit tenants, she was accompanied. And Matthews was being very careful about checking the horses and their tack.