Chapter 9
“Thank you again for agreeing to accompany me,” Edith said.
“Well, it’s to help your charity,” Laurence replied. “Besides, it would also stop the ton from scorning you and Tilly.”
“Right,” Edith sighed as they stepped into the gardens of Lord and Lady Wickshaw.
The gardens had been manicured to perfection. There were tables of tea and sandwiches laid out in idyllic spots. Groups of people had gathered to talk to one another as music from a string quartet floated in the air.
After her luncheon with Lady Fairfax and Lady Wexbridge, Edith had received a last-minute invitation to the Wickshaws’ charity garden party. She was glad to be able to attend events that allowed her to support her causes. More importantly, she would be able to spend time with Laurence.
At least, that was what she had hoped.
Her hopes were rapidly dashed as he untangled his arm from hers, walked over to a group of gentlemen, and began talking. Her heart sank, but she kept her expression neutral. If she showed her disappointment, it would just fuel gossip.
“I didn’t think you’d attend, Your Grace.” The voice was familiar enough to make her turn around.
Her eyes met Ava’s, and she gave a wide smile.
“Oh, my dear friend, it is so good to see you,” Edith said, reaching out to embrace her.
“And you! I did worry you would not have time to see me,” Ava admitted.
“Well, I am here now.” Edith smiled.
The pair walked over to a small table where some light refreshments were on offer.
“How is your condition?” Edith asked.
“All is fine,” Ava replied. “But I am also looking forward to the day that it is over.”
“I can only imagine!” Edith chuckled softly.
“And how is your marriage going?”
Edith hesitated and glanced at Laurence before looking back at Ava. “I suppose it is going as well as one could expect it to.”
“Oh, really?” Ava asked.
“Indeed.” Edith hesitated, considering her words. “He is still no less of a mystery to me.”
“Even after two weeks of cohabiting?” Ava’s eyebrows flew up.
“Yes. I understand that he is a duke and must work to keep his duchy afloat, and yet…” Edith swallowed hard. “I do wish he would be more… present.”
“I fear that is a complaint many wives have about their husbands.”
“Christian seems rather present,” Edith quipped, glancing at Ava’s rounded belly.
“Oh, hush, I am simply lucky. The Duke of Richmond is more an anomaly than the norm.”
“Do you think he could teach my husband how to be as odd?”
“I am afraid it is part innate and part learned,” Ava said. “I am sure that my husband could teach your husband a thing or two. However, there needs to be an openness to that kind of education.”
“I have yet to convince him to dine with me and Tilly. I am afraid he would not be open to any education,” Edith sighed.
“Well then, we must simply hope there is something innate to help him along.” Ava eyed her carefully. “I am sure he has taught you many innate or… intimate things?”
Edith felt her cheeks redden and bowed her head.
“Ava!” She let out a scandalized laugh.
“Am I incorrect?” Ava asked with a grin.
“That is not the point!” Edith protested. “This is not the sort of conversation we should be having here.”
“No, I suppose not, but your response told me more than you realize.”
“In what way?”
“Well, I can tell that even if you and your husband have not fulfilled your marital duties,” Ava explained, “it sounds like you might want to.”
“I…” Edith trailed off and looked down.
Frankly, she did not have the words to express her feelings or what was happening between her and Laurence. She opened her mouth to explain, but promptly closed it again.
After a moment, she felt Ava’s hand on hers. “It seems I have teased you too much.”
“No, no,” Edith said, taking a deep breath to compose herself. “I am all right.”
“Are you? For I’ve never seen you quite so… emotional.”
“In truth, I am unaccustomed to behaving this way,” Edith admitted.
Ava nodded slowly. “When I first married Christian, neither of us quite knew how to act. With some work and time, you’ll both find your footing.”
“I hope so,” Edith whispered. “I know I should rest assured in the knowledge that our marriage is based on practicality, not love, and yet…” She swallowed hard. “And yet I cannot stop thinking about him.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, I’m afraid to say.”
“I see.” Ava nodded. “Well, you will just have to see where life takes you both.”
Laurence quietly watched Edith and Ava talk. The conversation that James and the others were having was hardly of interest. His mind was much more focused on his wife, and he could feel himself being pulled to her.
“Old chap, are you listening?” James asked with a chuckle.
“Of course,” Laurence mumbled, turning his attention back to his friend.
“Well, well, the garden’s corner has got you in a trance. Should I be jealous of a shrub?” James smirked.
“I am afraid you’re mistaken.”
“What’s that? No birdwatching? No woodland creature fascination? Not even a floral epiphany?” James gasped dramatically.
“Mallowby—”
“Or, shall I risk suggesting that it is your wife who has monopolized your attention?”
Laurence tensed. He had been caught out and did not want to admit to it.
“Well, perhaps if you had anything of note to say, I would not be gazing at the sky,” he huffed.
“Oh, you wound me terribly, old friend,” James snorted.
“As amiable as ever, I see, Lord Mallowby,” quipped a man approaching the duo.
Laurence bristled at the sound of that voice. He knew it all too well.
The man stepped forward. He was tall and slender, often dressed in green and black, with a cane always at his side. Not for function, but for aesthetics. He was a calculating man behind an amiable smile that resembled a weasel’s. He looked genteel, but he was also known to bite.
“Lord Hargrove,” James greeted, his smile tightening. “Whatever brings you here? I was not aware you attended such events.”
“You weren’t aware that I attend charity garden parties?” Lord Hargrove asked with a laugh. “Of course I do! Ever happy to help a worthy cause.” He suddenly rounded on Laurence, grinning as he did so. “I do say, Your Grace, I believe there are things we need to discuss.”
“I am unaware of anything that I need to discuss with you.”
“Oh no?” Lord Hargrove drawled, tilting his head. “I can think of something, now that the matter of your father’s will has been resolved.”
“You were not listed as a beneficiary, so I do not see how that concerns you, Hargrove.”
“Oh, I’m fully aware, although I do believe that was a mistake on your father’s part. I would hate for this matter to spoil the good connection you and I have.”
“I would hesitate to call us friends.”
“Be that as it may,” Lord Hargrove said. “I think it is only fair that you settle old matters now that fortune smiles on Alderbourne Estate. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“No.”
Lord Hargrove stiffened, and his smile no longer reached his eyes. “No?”
“Allow me to make this clear. While my father may have made you certain promises, I am not beholden to them. After all, the man who shook your hand is dead,” Laurence growled.
Lord Hargrove nodded. “Well, knowing one’s own mind is an admirable trait, indeed,” he said, gripping his cane tighter, the warmth now gone from his voice.
“My goal with the duchy is to move forward. I can hardly build it up again while wasting time on old promises.”
“I see. Well, I wish you every luck with that,” Lord Hargrove said, patting Laurence’s arm.
He turned to walk away, and Laurence was sure he caught the man glaring over his shoulder.
“What a snake,” James muttered.
“Indeed. I doubt this will be the last time I hear from him.”
Laurence and James started as Lady Eliza, the hostess, called out, “May I have everyone’s attention, please? Lady Jane has had a wonderful idea! Why don’t we play a game of Pall Mall?”
Laurence grimaced inwardly. He knew many people here were competitive and would take aim at him in the name of sport.
“Why don’t we have a go?” James suggested, grinning.
“Not interested,” Laurence muttered.
“Are you certain, Your Grace?”
He whirled around, startled. Edith stood beside him, sunlight catching in her hair. He hadn’t even heard her approach.
“I—well—”
“Or maybe you don’t want the ton to see your wife beat you?” she taunted, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Oh, this woman.
He caught the teasing curve of her mouth and the expectant stares around them.
Blast it.
“Fine,” he acquiesced. “One game.”
“Oh, this is going to be very entertaining,” James laughed and clapped him on the back.
Laurence growled softly. He was soon handed a mallet, and the players were led toward a dirt path where the metal hoops had been set up.
He glanced at the other players. Some seemed serious. Others were laughing together, focused on fun. The remainder only seemed interested in watching him and Edith.
“Why don’t you go first, Your Grace?” Lady Eliza asked Edith, who nodded.
She took up her place and scanned the length of the course.
Laurence watched her as she surveyed the scene. His eyes drifted down to her back. He had the sense to look back up at her head before others noticed.
Edith pulled back the mallet and hit the ball. It skidded down the path and came to rest near the hoop at the base.
“Good shot, Your Grace!” Lady Eliza praised, clapping her hands.
“I imagine it will be difficult to beat that,” someone behind Laurence murmured.
He sighed as he took his place and tapped the ball. It rolled down the path, almost leisurely. It gently tapped Edith’s ball out of the way, eliciting a few gasps.
Edith nodded. “Good shot,” she acknowledged, but he could see the steel in her eyes. He hadn’t known she was competitive.
Others took their shots, careful not to touch the Duke and Duchess’s balls.
Soon, it was Edith’s turn again. She tapped the ball, and it sped down the path, clashing into someone else’s. The other ball flew off the track and landed in the pond as hers slowed to a stop.
“Oh my!” Lady Eliza gasped.