Chapter 9
Today, I was out riding on Carlton Hill when I happened upon Harry leaving Francis’ house.
He was so terribly handsome in his riding jacket!
And also complimentary of my new habit. The cut of the jacket Eve allowed me to have is far more elegant than anything Abby might have let me have because she considers me a child still.
The way Harry stared at me, I don’t believe he thought I looked like one!
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Hyde Park
London, England
Two days later
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“You’ve been quite rude to Lord Aylesbury since we arrived in London. I’m surprised at you.”
Fiona arched a brow, casting her sister-in-law a sidelong glance, but Eve did not return her look, nor did her gaze waver as she serenely strolled along at Fiona’s side.
The first part of her comment was pure Eve and what Fiona had come to expect from the woman who had taken it upon herself to polish her manners these past several years.
The soft note of reprisal in the words that followed was quite unlike her, though.
Eve was generally given to a quiet observation with no condemnation or a trifling commentary that became a valuable lesson.
Of course, Fiona wasn’t typically one to outwardly cut a member of the British peerage, either.
“I must confess, I’m surprised it took you so long to mention it.”
“This is the first chance I’ve had to speak with you alone.”
A grin tugged the corner of Fiona’s mouth.
They were scarcely alone as they walked side by side on the narrow path that paralleled Rotten Row along the northern shore of the Serpentine, with Fiona pushing an ornate Silver Cross wooden body pram with Lela and Alice within while Eve’s eyes remained glued to Preston who toddled a few yards ahead on Ilona’s hand while his older brother, Laurie, tagged along on their way to picnic in a shady spot near the Tyburn Brook where the children could throw breadcrumbs to the ducks.
The children’s nanny followed close behind.
Besides them, the park was riddled with other mothers and nannies doing the same since it was another fine spring morning. The air held a chill from the overnight rain, but the sun shone brightly through the trees, casting random shadows on the graveled walk that wove through the park.
“It wasn’t well done of you at all.”
Fiona didn’t respond but merely bit her lip and cooed down at her nieces in the pram, waving her fingers at them until Lela giggled merrily.
On her little knees, she gripped the side of the carriage and bounced back and forth, babbling incoherently, rocking the pram and infant within.
Wee Alice only sucked her fist, unconcerned by the ruckus around her as only a fourth child could be.
She grinned down at them both. She would happily take one of each and maybe a half-dozen more like them.
Having been raised among as but one in a large, boisterous family, it had never occurred to her to have anything less for herself.
Despite their recent overbearing behavior, she adored being surrounded by the people she loved and all the chaos that came with them.
A quiet life just wasn’t for her, and looking down at the sweet babies in the pram, she was more determined than ever to have it for herself. If only her plan for achieving that goal was unwavering.
Ilona’s words of caution had begun to wear her down.
Though she continued to meet secretly with Ramsay, the joviality that had always been a hallmark of their interactions had gone dismally amiss.
Instead, he’d been morose. Like a puppy that had lost its favorite toy.
Again and again, he insisted that they elope and have done with this ‘foolishness.’ The pleasure she had always taken in his company, as brief as it was these days, was fast fading.
It caused her to consider Francis’ suggestion more seriously.
Perhaps finding another potential husband here in London would be possible after all.
After bicycling with Lord Temple, she’d met him again to ride, on horseback this time, the previous afternoon and well enjoyed his company.
Though she still considered him with sisterly care, there was the possibility that her affection for him might yet become more amorous.
If not, she had also met several other eligible gentlemen over the past week.
But the very last person she would even pretend to consider would be the man who seemed to find some peculiar amusement in pestering her.
Yes, Eve was right. She was being quite rude to Lord Aylesbury.
“You’re ignoring me,” Eve admonished softly.
“Of course I am,” she retorted as she bent over the carriage and tickled little Lela. “Why would your mummy expect anything less?” she cooed to the toddler in singsong. “When I am a full-grown woman now and not a child to be scolded so?”
“Am I scolding you?” Eve drew to a halt and relaxed into a warm smile. “I suppose I am, but old habits die hard.”
She was ever thankful for Eve coming into her life and her oldest brother’s.
Fiona’s mother died giving birth to her, a much-longed-for daughter, after a never-ending string of boys, so Fiona never had much feminine influence until Richard married Abby when Fiona was twelve.
Fiona loved Abby as well, but she still saw Fiona as a child, whereas Eve saw and treated Fiona as a young woman. Or at least she always had before.
“It was never your habit, Evie,” she corrected, finally meeting her eye. “So why would you do so now?”
“Lord Aylesbury has enough troubles of his own just now without being treated so abominably, dearest,” Eve said somewhat enigmatically.
“I’m treating him abominably?” Fiona responded with a raised brow, surprised at Eve’s unexpected defense.
“How terribly amusing. Besides, what troubles might Aylesbury possibly have that would require one to tip-toe about his sensibilities? He’s handsome, charming. ..rich,” she added as an afterthought.
“All the charm in the world cannot spare a man of woe.”
Fiona frowned at that subdued tone, feeling a worried pinch in her heart that she shook off with a laugh. “Woe? Now I know you are bamming me. Never has there been a fellow so absent of woe as Harrison Brudenall.”
But even as she said it, she remembered the look of haggard despondency she had seen on his face after that fight at the Onslow ball.
It had been soul-shattering. And though he had flashed a smile or two the last few times they had met, there was still a somewhat pinched quality about him that wasn’t consistent with the perpetual humor that had once played about his expression.
No, now that she thought about it, that drawn look made her feel that he was rather sad in some way. Defeated. Did Eve know what had caused it? Was that why Harry had come to Eaton Square?
Was she really going to trouble her heart with caring once more for the Marquis of Aylesbury when he spared so little consideration for her? Especially when he had openly confessed his love for another?
Sucking in a breath, she lifted her chin. “Whatever Aylesbury is about, I’m sure it is none of my business. None at all.”
“What happened to make you so embittered toward the marquis? It is not like you to be so callous,” Eve said quietly.
Fiona could only shake her head. “And I’m sure that is none of your business.”
Eve sucked in a breath. Fiona steeled herself against pleading forgiveness for her harsh words, but the tone was something else. “I’m sorry, Eve, to speak to you so. You have been nothing but a friend to me, and I love you dearly, but I will not speak of Lord Aylesbury.”
But her sister-in-law still looked puzzled. “There was a time when I thought...”
“Do not, Eve,” Fiona said quietly, holding her gaze solemnly. “Whatever you think you know about where my affections lie, you are very wrong.”
* * *
Eve watched her young sister-in-law push the pram into motion.
The chromed spoke wheels grinding against the pebbled path once more.
Curiosity had long abounded in the family regarding what exactly had happened between Fiona and the marquis in the Haddington House gardens two years past. She’d been surprisingly tight-lipped about it all, and other than knowing that the pair had exchanged words and that Vin and James had both witnessed the remnants of a hard slap across Aylesbury’s cheek, nothing more was known.
Over the years, the incident had slipped from memory as life and time progressed. Only upon seeing them together again had Eve begun to recall that night and wonder.
Curiosity raged, but Fiona was as stubborn as any MacKintosh lad, and Eve knew prying for information would get her nowhere. So be it; there was still another topic that needed to be raised.
“You also did not mention Lord Ramsay was in town.”
Only the tiny hitch in her pace revealed Fiona’s surprise at Eve’s words. Just enough for Eve to know that Fiona’s former beau’s presence in London came as no surprise to her sister-in-law. It was enough to make her wonder what else Fiona might be hiding from them.
“Were you planning on mentioning it to anyone? Or is this another topic that is none of my business?”
“How did you know?”
“He approached Francis yesterday at his club,” Eve told her. “It seems Lord Ramsay has finally summoned the nerve to ask for your hand. Did you know he was here?”
Picking through the details, Fiona told Eve of meeting Ramsay in Eaton Square after the Onslow ball. Whatever more there was to it, Fiona kept to herself.
“He dared to...” Eve’s eyes widened, and she lost some restrained polish for which she was known.
She couldn’t believe that Fiona had gone out in the middle of the night to meet a strange man.
Francis would likely murder Lord Ramsay if he ever heard such a thing.
“We will never, never speak of this to your brother.”
“In my defense, you always said you were the very worst chaperone ever.” She bit her lip to stifle a smile. “You should be glad I did not have him come to my room as he wished.”
“Mama!” Eve bit back a piteous moan as her toddler, Preston, ran up to her as they reached their intended destination. “Ducks!”
“Yes, there are ducks, darling,” she said, brushing his dark hair affectionately with her fingers. “Do you want to feed them? Shall I go with you?”
“I’ll do it, Mother,” Laurie offered in a sacrificial tone, and Eve bit back a smile as it was clear he was eager to toss the breadcrumbs himself.
Even at seven, Laurie was perhaps too conscientious of his position as Earl of Shaftesbury and tended to forgo many childish amusements.
She often had to remind him that he was still just a little boy.
“Thank you, Laurie,” was all she said, digging the bread they had brought out of the pram and handing it to Ilona. “Please mind Preston around the water,” she warned as the boys dashed away. “He took a spill last time we were here.”
Ilona grinned merrily. “There shan’t be so much as a speck of mud on his knickers, I promise.”
Turning back, she found that Fiona and the nanny had already spread a blanket nearby where the nanny was seated with Alice in her arms. Fiona was walking slowly away toward the water, holding Lela’s little hands in hers to steady the one-year-old, who stumbled in baby steps after her brothers.
Very well, she would let Fiona evade the question for now. They had a long morning ahead of them, and even four rambunctious children would grow bored and sleepy before long.
Taking Alice from the nanny, Eve laid her daughter on the blanket before reclining next to her. Cooing to her, she tickled Alice’s belly and embraced the joy that filled her heart when the baby kicked her legs and laughed with delight.
“Good morning, Lady Glenrothes.”