Chapter 10
Harry brought red roses tonight for Moira. I think he might be on the verge of asking her to marry him. How can that be when he flirts with me so shamelessly?
Or does he flirt with every lady like that?
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Eve looked up from beneath the wide brim of her hat to find Lord Aylesbury pulling his mount to a halt a few yards away.
He dismounted, sweeping off his hat with a slight bow.
Pushing herself up to a more proper sitting position, she greeted him, shooting a look at Fiona, who hadn’t yet noted his arrival.
“Good morning, Lord Aylesbury. Would you care to join us? We’ve brought a picnic.”
The marquis also looked at Fiona before casting a smile down at Eve. “I would love to.”
Tying his reins off to a nearby branch, he joined her, dropping down on the edge of the blanket and tossing his hat to the side. Reaching out, he tickled Alice’s belly and grinned at her. “She’s a splendid girl, Lady Glenrothes. You’re fortunate.”
Eve nodded. “I am. Alice seems to like you.”
“I fear I’m becoming quite fond of her myself.” With a smile, he let Alice entrap his finger and draw it into her mouth, but his gaze had already been drawn away. Eve didn’t have to follow it to know where he was looking.
“And not only fond of Alice, I believe?”
He inclined his head slightly, conceding the point. “She hates me, you know?”
Given her conversation with Fiona, denying it would have been senseless, but Eve felt the need to add, “Hate is a strong word and a stronger emotion.”
“Yes.” He nodded, watching Fiona as she handed some bread to Lela and helped her toss it into the water.
She looked so happy. As fresh and appealing as a summer day in her simple beige linen walking suit, her laughter lifted his heart with its joyful lilt.
“But I’m glad for it. I know that sounds odd, but indifference would have been harder to bear. Hate I can work with.”
“So you do intend to ‘work with it,’ as you say?”
It was pushy and more than a little improper to ask such a thing, but Eve couldn’t help herself. The marquis was eminently more likeable than Ramsay. Aylesbury turned back to her, his bright blue eyes filled with more delight than Eve had seen from him yet since coming to London.
“Yes. Would Glenrothes mind, do you think?”
“Vin and Richard might,” she teased. “But I believe Francis would approve. But, dare I ask, considering her feelings toward you, are you certain this is a project you wish to take on just now? I fear you have more than enough on your mind.”
The light in his eyes dimmed, and Eve was sorry to be the cause of it, but she had to ask. He nodded. “That isn’t a problem that is likely to solve itself anytime soon.”
“Have you had any news of her?”
His head shook in a grim negative. “No and while I’m not likely to, I find as time goes by that my own life needs some tending to. I need to do something for my own happiness.”
Something in his wording sat ill with Eve. “I shouldn’t like to think that you would consider Fiona some sort of compensation.”
“Please have no worries there. I have an honest affection for her.”
Eve frowned. She didn’t quite like the sound of that either. She wanted something more for her sister-in-law than something so blasé as ‘honest affection.’
“What are you doing here?”
They both looked up to find Fiona standing above them with Lela propped on one hip. Her expression, which had been sunny all morning, was as dark as a thundercloud.
“Lord Aylesbury just happened by,” Eve told her. “I invited him to join us on our picnic.”
“Uninvite him.”
“Fiona!”
“No, Lady Glenrothes,” Aylesbury jumped to his feet, smoothing down the sleeves of his jacket as he considered Fiona steadily. “It is quite all right. I’ll go.”
“No,” Eve insisted firmly. “You will stay. Fiona, please sit down.”
She shook her head stiffly.
“Fiona...”
A child’s bawling nearby had them all turning as a girl of about six or seven stumbled across the grass. “Nanny?” she cried. “Na-a-a-nny?”
Happy for a diversion and escape from Aylesbury’s unwelcome company, Fiona set Lela in her mother’s lap and hurried over to the lost child, dropping to her knees before her. “Hello, there,” she said soothingly. “Are you quite all right?”
“I-I,” the little girl babbled between sobs, “c-can’t find my nanny. I l-lost her.”
“Or rather, she lost you,” Fiona said calmly. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her. What is your name?”
“Darcy,” she said with a sniff. “Will you help me look for her?”
Smiling down at the grubby little girl before her who looked more like a lost street urchin than a child from a family with means enough to employ a nanny for their child, Fiona stood and held out her hand to Darcy. “Yes, I shall. Where did you last see your nanny?”
Darcy pointed to a thick copse of trees some distance north of them and tugged her hand once more.
While there was quite a bit of traffic around them—riders like Aylesbury and carriages passing on Rotten Row despite the unfashionable hour, families and children all rushing about near the water and the adjoining lawns—the grouping of trees was somewhat off the beaten path, Fiona thought.
Hardly the area of Hyde Park where a nanny might take her charge for an outing.
“Are you quite certain, Darcy? Perhaps you’re mistaken. It is a very large park.”
“No, that’s where we were,” she insisted, tears miraculously gone. “Will you come with me, please?”
Glancing back toward the blanket, she saw that, though Eve was watching curiously, she was still sitting with her girls. However, Aylesbury had started toward them.
“I shall come with you.”
“No!” both Fiona and Darcy said at the same time.
The child tugged her hand impatiently, eager to be gone.
“I’m sure we can do without your assistance, can we not?” Fiona said, and Darcy beamed up at her gladly, perhaps a little too gladly.
She hesitated uneasily. Something didn’t seem quite right. Hating herself for it, she looked to Aylesbury for reassurance, but he also frowned. “Perhaps we should just call upon the authorities to help her?”
“No!” Darcy wailed. “I want to find my nanny now!”
“Cease!” Aylesbury commanded, and the girl silenced immediately, glaring at him balefully. “No more crocodile tears either.”
Darcy’s lower lip trembled, and Fiona’s sympathy prevailed. “Harry, please. I’m sure it would do no harm to help her look.”
Aylesbury couldn’t help but think that the girl seemed almost satisfied by Fiona’s offer. “Then I will come along. No, no arguments,” he added when both of them opened their mouths.
“Very well,” Fiona sighed and squeezed Darcy’s hand. “Shall we?”
But surprisingly, Darcy stood firm, glaring at Aylesbury.
“Darcy?”
To her amazement, the little girl yanked her hand away and pulled a face at Aylesbury before dashing away as fast as her legs could carry her. Not to the trees to the north but to the east and the heavy traffic of Hyde Park Corner beyond.
He watched her go. “You know, I think the little minx meant to lead you into an ambush. To rob you,” he clarified. “It’s probably her speciality, luring wealthy ladies into a situation where a footpad or two is waiting to fleece them.”
“What a horrid thought,” she said with a shudder.
He shrugged. “It’s often a horrid world.”
She shifted from one foot to the other. “I suppose you expect me to thank you?”
“Thank me. Forgive me.” Aylesbury shrugged as if either would do.
“You make it such an easy choice.”
He canted his head to one side, his blue eyes probing deeply into hers. “Are you ever going to forgive me?”
Eyeing him just as intently, she tilted her head in an allusion of a shrug. “It doesn’t matter, really. I’ll be gone from London before too long, and it will be a moot point.”
“Gone from London?” he repeated. “With this man you say you love? Are you going to marry him then? Who’s the lucky man?”
“Donovan Ramsay.” Fiona’s dark side found no little pleasure in the ability to provide a name. To let him know how thoroughly she had moved on. “Do you know him?”
Aylesbury raised a brow. “Donovan Ramsay? Good God, Fiona, the man’s a knock away from Death’s door!” He whistled under his breath then. “Damned, but you’ll be a rich widow before the honeymoon’s over. My hat’s off to you, my dear.”
“You’re such a bastard, Harry,” Fiona muttered under her breath.
Though the words carried all the derision she hoped for, Aylesbury’s jest, without a hint of upset, scored at her heart.
It shouldn’t, she knew. Aylesbury had made his feelings for her quite clear long ago.
“I am not referring to the Earl of Carron himself but his nephew. Quite likely, you knew that and are only poking fun, as you tend to and...”
But he wasn’t listening. Instead, his attention was wholly focused on something else. Following his gaze, she could see nothing but pedestrians on foot and a carriage or two.
“What...?”
“I must go,” he said abruptly, already turning away. “My apologies.”
Running back to his horse, Aylesbury mounted hastily and spurred the horse into a gallop before he had even fully gained his seat.
Wandering back towards Eve, Fiona watched him go, only to realize he was chasing after a pair of ladies in one of the carriages.
Even from a distance, she could hear him call to them.
* * *
“What was that all about?” Eve asked curiously as Aylesbury pulled up next to the carriage and tipped his hat to greet the ladies.
“Are you surprised?” Fiona grumbled, rejoining her sister-in-law on the blanket and drawing Lela into her lap.
Ilona had also returned, leaving the two boys under the supervision of their nanny.
Fiona shrugged as if it were nothing to have a care over, even though she was stung by sudden Aylesbury’s abandonment.
Who were the ladies in the carriage? Was one of them his mysterious she?
“He’s a practiced flirt who simply cannot help spreading himself around. ”