“Ah, so now you admit it.”
“I never denied it.”
He sat across from Morley and crossed one leg. “I enjoy her, Morley. I wonder if I might find something, some kind of happiness with her I’ve never found anywhere else.”
Morley refused to answer.
“You don’t believe me.”
“I know how disdainful you can be. I’ve yet to see this be any different from any other of your conquests. Know this: broken hearts in this family will be answered. These sisters are not without friends.”
“You’ve made that clear. Though I’m not certain of your emotional engagement here. Are you tied to these women? Just why are you so intent on aiding the family?”
“Lord Smallwood?” June hurried into the room. “I just heard you were here.” She approached and reached out with both hands to Smallwood. She glanced at Morley out of the corner of her eye as she passed. “Morley.”
She’d called him “Morley.” That, at least, was something. Morley, the name his dearest friends called him. The name he’d used before the title was even his, as a promise with his best friend, who, ironically, he’d called Granbury before the Gerald became the duke and only Gerald now that he was the duke. Even though she probably did it without thinking, it made him feel closer to her.
“Hello, Miss Standish. I trust your visit with the modiste is going well?”
She turned briefly to him. “Yes, it is. We will have to thank His Grace when he arrives.”
“Is the Duke of Granbury coming, then?” Smallwood smiled in her direction, and Morley wanted to wipe the expression from his face.
“Yes, he and his wife.” She slipped a hand on Smallwood’s arm. “Now, did you want to take the tour?”
“I would be most intrigued to see this most mysterious of all castles. It has been closed for years.”
“It’s lovely now. We will be very happy here.” They walked out of the room without another look in his direction.
And Morley supposed this was the way of things between him and Miss Standish now.
The modiste bustled her way back out to the main receiving area of the home, and the servants assisted her into his carriage. Before he himself climbed up, Miss Charity ran out to greet him.
“Lord Morley.”
Relieved at the cheerful greeting, he said, “Yes? How was your visit?”
“Oh, I’ll look stunning, as expected.” Miss Charity waved her hand as though such a thing mattered little.
Morley could only smile, because as beautiful as she was, the gowns would only draw further attention.
“Thank you. I wanted to thank you. June is…well, she’s stubborn and prideful. So I don’t know if you’ll ever get another kind word from her, but the rest of us think you’re smashing.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“‘Smashing’ isn’t at all the word, is it?” Charity shrugged. “It sounds right in my head, but off my lips…perhaps too much?”
“I hear it most often at Jackson’s or with the gentlemen on a hunt.”
“Hmm. Are there any good words for a lady?” Charity tapped her chin.
“Good words?”
“Yes, truly exclamatory or descriptive. I feel men have taken all the good ones.”
He tipped back his head, a laugh rumbling up inside him. Then he shook his head. “I’m afraid we have stolen all the good ones, yes. So around me, you may use the word ‘smashing.’”
“Just right. So, anyway, the sisters and I—not June—have been talking, and we would like you to come to dinner.”
“Oh? When?”
“Tonight. Every night. We want you around. And even if June doesn’t allow it, we don’t care what she thinks. In this instance, she’s wrong. You’ve become family. So please come tonight. And we will keep inviting you. Come as often as you like or you can.” She rocked back on her heels. Morley could see it took something for her to extend the invitation, as if she were afraid he would turn her down.
“Absolutely. There is no family I would wish to dine with more. Expect me this evening. And for as many evenings in which we are not engaged.”
“Thank you. We shall all be glad to have you. Even June, though I doubt she’ll let you know.”
“Either way, perhaps I can somehow show her my sincerity. I’d like us to be on good terms, at least.”
“And so would we.” She whipped around. “See you tonight.” Her hurrying feet back into the castle made him smile. Then she paused. “I know you are escorting Miss Marguerite home, but Lord Smallwood is hereabouts. I’m not certain they should be without escort.” She winked and entered the castle.
Chapter Ten
Not without escort.
He moaned. Could the sisters not follow Miss Standish and Smallwood around and act as an escort of sorts? Did he really wish to insert himself, to be seen even more as a bother in her life?
He considered Smallwood in there working his charms, his open smiles that hid his real intentions, and the thought settled things. He called up to his coachman, “Please take Miss Marguerite back to her establishment, and then return for me here.”
“Very good, my lord.” The coachman nodded, and the carriage was sent on its way.
He turned back to the house. Even if June never again saw him as someone she would want to spend her time with as an equal, he certainly could insert himself between her and Smallwood. No matter what the man said, Morley couldn’t help but doubt his sincerity.
He picked up his pace, pushed through the front door, and marched through the entry.
Charity was already upstairs, looking out over a balcony that surrounded the front entry. She pointed toward the back end of the courtyard and then waved.
He nodded and moved in the identified direction. And in good time. Smallwood had stepped closer to Miss Standish and was involved in what looked like a serious discussion. Alone. Where were her sisters? A footman? A maid? Did no one care for propriety in this home?
“Ah, there you are.” He lifted a hand to them.
Miss Standish jerked up her head and took a step back.
Excellent.
Smallwood frowned at him.
When he was close enough to converse, Miss Standish spoke. “Was there something we needed to address?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
She waited. “We are all ears. What was it that needed to be addressed right in this moment?”
“I felt this moment an excellent one to address any manner of things, as I happened upon a situation which merited a chaperone.”
Miss Standish sucked in her breath. “Surely you can see we are in the center of the house, visible to all.”
“Hmm.” He dipped his head. “Nevertheless, there is some stonework I wish for you to inspect so we might have your final approval on coloring and placement.”
“Coloring and placement? Of the stone?”
“Yes, the masons don’t want to continue until they know you are in agreement with the slightly different shades, the natural variances which occur with…rocks.” He cleared his throat.
Smallwood adjusted his coat. “Shall I attend as well?”
“If you would like, though I hardly think this activity sounds riveting.”
“True, but one could not leave you unchaperoned at any rate, either.” Smallwood raised his eyebrows in challenge.
Miss Standish’s tired sigh would have made Morley laugh at any other time, but today he felt only sadness he would vex her so. But what more was he to do? There were plenty of men she could accept attention from who would be far superior to Smallwood. If Morley was to aid her in finding a match, it would not be to this cad.
They moved in the direction from which he had come, though he knew the effort to be pointless. But he grinned anyway. “The stone was taken from the same quarry, therefore, the same rock as the original. I find that interesting. If you think about it, quite romantic as well. For the same ocean crashed on these rocks, the same time period of people
stepped upon them. Hundreds of years in these walls and in the earth, separated for a time, and now they are combined anew.”
Smallwood snorted.
They moved along the wall. Morley reached out to trail his fingers on the stone. “So this stone right here is easily two hundred years old, which, by the way, is as long as a member of your family has owned or been associated with this castle.”
June said nothing, but his heart warmed when her fingers reached out to touch the stone. “Just think who else has touched this very wall.”
He led her further along. “If you remember, this part of the castle was in shambles. A large portion of the wall up here had even crumbled. And that was the part we wanted to complete with some urgency. You will see it is now secure, but a few remaining touches are left.” They approached the far wall. “And though it is very important you are secured in your home, the difference in coloring on the stone gave us pause. What say you?”
He stepped back and held out a wall sconce, the light helping them see shades of rock and patterns.
Smallwood could not look more irritated, but Miss Standish approached, studying the stone. “So, this is the same age as the other stone in the castle.”
“Yes, that is correct. If you see this line, this is where the masons collected stone from the nearby areas, the same general location of the other stone, but it has since been subject to wind and rain and sun.”
She ran her hands along the rock in such a reverent manner, Morley was pleased he had suggested such a task.
“I can see the different colors and the discontinuity, but perhaps unlike some others, I love the story it tells and find it charming.” She turned to him, her eyes bright, interested. “You may tell the head mason I am happy with his efforts and he may continue the same in other areas which require repair.”
“I will indeed.” He considered her. “I would think you’d like to be more involved in these sorts of decisions.”
“Yes, I would.”
“Then it shall be done.”
The happiness that lit her face taught him a plethora of new things about this fascinating woman. Her desire to be independent was not merely an expression or a matter of pride. She’d been solely in charge of her family, in caring for them, despite the interference of many men like himself. And she felt more comfortable in that position. To her credit, he’d never met a woman so wholly focused on anyone besides herself.
Then Smallwood stepped up beside her. “I do think, perhaps, it is disconcerting to see the break in the wall, to see the line of rebuild.”
She shook her head. “No, that is the part I find most fascinating.”
“Hmm. Perhaps if a true masonry expert were to be assisting here instead of the amateurs doing this work, it would have been completed differently.”
“My lord?” Mr. Smithson approached from behind.
“Ah, perfect timing,” Morley said. “Miss Standish, I would like you to meet the leading mason in London, who the Duke of Granbury cajoled into helping us.”
She turned and reached out her hands.
Smallwood scowled.
“Your work is fantastic. I most appreciate the delicate respect and balance you have shown in the history of our home and in the surrounding nature.”
“Ah, a woman who appreciates our efforts.”
“This is Miss Standish. She and her sisters are the tenants here. The castle has been in her family since it was built.”
“We discovered something you might find interesting.” He rounded the corner and came back with his rucksack. “The boys picked this up while we were cleaning out the rubble. It looks to be something the family might have hidden in the rocks.”
Miss Standish gasped beside him and stepped closer.
Mr. Smithson pulled out a small chest. “It has a lock. But it seems to be very old.” He gently handed it to her.
“Thank you.” The reverence with which she took the chest into her arms pulled at Morley’s heart, and he suddenly wanted to know her whole story—the history of her family and why she and the sisters were in their situation.
They made their way further along the hall. “Tell me, Mr. Smithson, what else are your men working on?”
They talked together, which left Smallwood and Morley standing side by side.
“I know what you’re doing,” Smallwood mumbled.
“Pardon?”
He looked away. “What if I’m sincere? What if you’re intruding on a great opportunity for her?”
Morley considered his words. “Then she will know, won’t she? I’ll not stand in the way of her choices.”
“Just in my ability to convince her.”
“Just in your complete disregard for propriety.” He tried to relax but everything about Smallwood set his teeth to grinding.
“Hmm. And your own?”
What an absurd assessment. “We always have the sisters with us, the servants, the workers.”
He nodded. “Regardless. Do you not think it quite outside your role to be so attentive? I’ll tell you, I care little about your sensibilities. I don’t see you as a guardian. She certainly doesn’t. And I have little regard for your mother hen picking stipulations about time spent with Miss Standish.”
Morley stopped him and let the other two go further ahead. “You need to care about my sensibilities. For each of these sisters is in my safekeeping, and they will be treated with respect by true gentlemen.” He stood taller. “They are not without friends.”
Morley held Smallwood’s gaze until he nodded. Then they continued walking.
After much longer than Morley anticipated, Miss Standish finished talking with Mr. Smithson. They planned for some extra work to be done up in one of the towers and for a fountain to be added to the courtyard, among other things.
When at last she turned to him and was ready to make her way back to the living areas of the castle, Lord Smallwood had checked his timepiece three times.
“I shall be off. But will I be seeing you at the ball in the pavilion?”
“The ball?” She looked at Morley and back. “I—believe so?”
“Excellent. Might I secure a set with you there?”
“Certainly. Allow me to walk you out.” She lifted her chin. “If our chaperone would allow a moment?”
“Oh, of course. I’ll be watching from here.” He pointed to the front entry and the clear view he had from where he stood to the door.
“Thank you.” She paused, then handed him the chest. “Would you hold this?”
He cradled it. “Yes.”
Could they manage to be friends, on good terms, through this next Season as they worked to get all her sisters married in good situations? And as she herself found a good situation?
He really didn’t like Smallwood. But would he like any man?
As he watched Smallwood’s tenderness with her, the intensity on his face, a small twinge of guilt bothered him. Was he standing in the way of Miss Standish’s choice for happiness?
No, he refused to believe it—at least, not yet. But he knew no one, not one person in all of the ton, would be good enough for her. Not even him.
Chapter Eleven
Lord Smallwood’s small smile endeared her further to him. “Must he watch?” The sudden insecurity there charmed her.
“I’m not sure why, but I do believe he feels he must.”
“He is not your guardian.”
“I know.”
“I should like to send a carriage for the ball at the pavilion.”
She hesitated. Lord Smallwood’s eyes were kind, but there was a calculating glint there which made her nervous. “I’m certain Lord Morley will lend us the use of his, but thank you. I look forward to our set.”
He dipped his head. “Until then.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He turned and stepped down their front stairs. His carriage pulled up in front of Lord Morley’s. It was a deep black with a beautiful gold crest. She would be in good hands were she to mar
ry Lord Smallwood, were he to be sincere and ask for her hand.
She watched while he drove away.
“Does he make you happy?” Lord Morley’s voice behind her made her jump.
She placed a hand at her chest and controlled her breathing. “Why must you sneak up on me?” She spun. “And where is—oh, you have it.” She reached for the chest. “This is most exciting. Come. We must gather the sisters.”
For some reason, she felt it important Lord Morley be present. As she passed a servant, she stopped the footman. “Please send word to the sisters to meet in the family drawing room.”
They hurried to the comfortable room by the fire, and she opened the draperies as far as they would go.
Sunlight poured in. “Come, let’s sit here in the light.” She took a seat on a low-lying settee, and he joined at her side.
They both peered at the box. He leaned closer, close enough she could feel the space between them warm. A rich smell of spices, of earth, the sky, wafted in the air around them.
“You smell nice.”
She laughed. “I was thinking the same of you.”
She lifted her chin, their faces closer than usual. “Thank you.” Her voice sounded soft to her ears, almost accepting of his presence. Perhaps she could forgive him. He’d shown a measure of restraint where Lord Smallwood was concerned, and had included her in the castle renovation discussion. She held up the box.
“How can we open it?”
“May I?” He reached a hand for it. “I believe this lock is old enough we could break it, if that’s what you want to do.”
Her sisters hurried into the room. “What has happened?” Charity hurried to her side.
“Nothing at all.” She smiled. “Except the mason has found this box, hidden within the walls.”
“Oh, that’s incredible.” Charity squeezed herself on the sofa at June’s other side, pushing her closer to Lord Morley. She laughed as her whole body tipped, and she lost her balance into him.
He lifted the box up so it was protected and offered his shoulder as a shield. “Whoa, there.”
“Sisters, look at this. Should we call the mason to come break the lock for us?”
The Earl's Winning Wager: Clean Regency Romance (Lords for the Sisters of Sussex Book 2) Page 8
