Chapter 21
For a long moment, Rowe stared unmoving at the space where Camilla had been minutes before and wondered if he were suffering from a state of shock.
Why didn’t he go after her? If he was indeed in a state of shock, it could only be from the force of what he just experienced.
It had not been mere attraction, notwithstanding her lovely face looking up at him with desire in her eyes that mirrored his own.
It was not the kiss that felt like a cavalry had charged straight through his chest, a feeling which had so thoroughly overset him that he remained immobile.
It was love. Love that blew his aversion to marital commitment to pieces, sending them flying into the wind.
It was that revelation that kept him rooted in place. He loved her.
And she had run away, but why? Was it possible that the kiss had done the opposite for her and she did not want to marry him?
Surely whatever had caused her to flee could be explained, could be rectified.
The alternative—that she regretted his kiss, that she would turn him down, saying she did not love him in return—was too dire to contemplate.
He heard more people dashing toward the house and knew he needed to go too.
He turned slowly, and the wind blowing against his face brought him out of his frozen state.
You love her? Go and get her, the gale ordered.
He began to run then, his feet sliding and ramming against the toes of his wet boots in the most uncomfortable way.
The boots would likely be ruined, but he hastened on as a new thought reached him.
Camilla must be shielded from gossip and he could only do that if he were at the house.
The other guests would find it odd that she had returned alone and might ask questions.
When he arrived at Beechcroft, the drawing room was nearly full.
The only person he did not see was Gerry and whoever had been with him.
His eyes sought out Camilla, and with relief, found her firmly entrenched in the circle of her family.
He tried to catch her gaze, hoping to communicate something reassuring to her, but she wouldn’t meet it.
“Pembroke, you have returned.” Mary nodded in the direction of her boys, who were well wrapped in blankets and sitting side by side on a sofa playing with the tokens they had collected.
“You were smart to send Lady Camilla ahead with the winning token, although I am sorry your wet boots delayed your return. Tom and Henry are so pleased to have won.”
Camilla had not needed his help after all. She had thought of a perfectly reasonable excuse all on her own. His eyes still rested on her sitting with her sisters. “I am glad for them,” he murmured.
“You have made your nephews happy today, Pembroke,” Mary added, and he looked at her fully now, surprised by something he heard in her voice.
It sounded like approval. Affection. Something he had never heard growing up five years her junior.
“It was all they could talk about when we returned to the house. That their uncle was a bang-up fellow.”
He chuckled. “Where did two four-year olds learn the term ‘bang-up fellow?’”
She shook her head, a smile on her lips.
“I told them not to say it, but Moffat just laughed. He said they likely heard William say it.” William was Moffat’s nephew in Cambridge who wore all the latest, most outrageous fashions and spoke in an affected manner.
He was a harmless fellow but sometimes annoying.
Although Rowe seemed to intimidate him, that did not stop him from informing him that he knew where a good tailor was to be found if Lord Pembroke was of a mind to try something new.
“I enjoyed it,” Rowe said, returning to the subject of his nephews. It was the truth, although he would not go so far as to promise to take them out every week in case his altruism was short-lived.
Camilla, for all appearances, seemed in good humor, sporting two spots of color on her cheeks.
He wondered if she was troubled by what had happened or by what she might suppose his intentions were.
It was infuriating to be reduced to guessing.
He would have to discover what had passed through her mind as soon as he could.
Unlike his nephews, his patience with her would not be short-lived.
Evo came to stand at his side. He had grown again and was almost of a height with Rowe. “I wish you hadn’t sent Camilla on ahead of you, otherwise we might have won.”
“My apologies,” Rowe said without sincerity.
“And I must say, I think it paltry of you to have given up on finishing the race simply because your boots are wet,” Evo went on.
“Extremely paltry,” Rowe said in a state of distraction. He would not rest until he was able to speak to Camilla and learn what she was thinking.
“As for myself,” Evo persisted, folding his arms in front of his chest, “I would certainly not allow a woman to claim victory in a race, even if we were on the same side.”
“No. You would very likely shove her from the path if she got in your way.” Rowe threw him a sideways glance, the humor of such a mental image piercing his preoccupation.
“This is a test, isn’t it?” Evo glowered at him. “It is probably another of yours and Miles’s lessons telling me I need to be more of a gentleman. At least Felix doesn’t hound me on the matter. Allow me to remind you that I am an earl and as such am by nature a gentleman.”
“As you should know enough on the matter by now, I am quite sure you are only trying to provoke me by spouting nonsense.” Rowe placed his hand on Evo’s shoulder and smiled at him grimly.
“But in the event that I am wrong, as is on rare occasions the case, and you persist in your benightedness, let me remind you that if you are not first a gentleman, you cannot be an earl, for the one must come before the other. The number of reminders you seem to require on the subject leads one to question whether you have even the common sense of a man.”
Evo looked ready to take offense at this, which was unsurprising since Rowe had not minced words. But he stopped and appeared to consider. “Point taken.”
“You will do all right,” Rowe said, smiling.
His smile fell a little when he glanced over at Camilla, who was still surrounded by her family.
Had he behaved like a gentleman when he had kissed her before he told her he wanted to marry her?
But she must know the depth of his passion and attachment for her.
He had left her in no doubt. It had been written all over his face.
He was granted no chance to speak with Camilla at Beechcroft, and they left not long afterwards.
The wind had not abated, nor had it grown worse.
In the end, it had done him a small favor because he had been given that one moment alone with Camilla that he would not otherwise have had if they had all remained on the lawn by the house playing archery.
He supposed for that reason, he could like the wind a very little bit.
But it would be a deuced nuisance to ride home in it with his feet soaking wet.
As the guests prepared to climb into their carriages, he went over to assist Camilla and her sisters into theirs. For once, Evo was performing his duty, and Rowe watched him, disgruntled.
I should have postponed my talk on gentlemanly behavior with Evo until a later day.
A stable lad arrived leading Rowe’s gelding, and Gerry, already in the saddle, brought his horse alongside. “Let us ride together. I have news on Eubank.”
“Do you? Very well.” Rowe had not often thought about Miss Eubank’s problems once he had handed the matter over to Gerry, but he did want to know where things stood.
The carriages and riders started forth, with Weatherby and Pollard toward the front where Miss Milton and Miss Winkley’s carriage were.
“I meant to tell you this on the way over, but Weatherby wanted to speak to me about Miss Winkley.” Gerry had a grin on his face, which Rowe understood at once.
“He has fallen for her, has he?”
“There is nothing to announce,” Gerry clarified. “And he has not even succeeded in winning time alone with her, but he is set on a pursuit and wanted to make sure it would not cause problems between us.”
“Generous of him. I am not sure I would have been so if a lady had snagged my heart. Not even to a good friend.” He was thinking of Camilla, and in fact, knew he would not be so benevolent.
“But then you’ve never felt more for a woman than a passing fancy, have you?”
When Rowe didn’t answer, Gerry shot him a look. “Well, I suppose you will tell me when you are ready to do so. In any case, I told him he had nothing to fear. Miss Winkley is a pretty girl, but she doesn’t have enough spirit for me.”
“Yes, she does seem rather biddable.”
“Anyway, to move on to the subject of Eubank. I went to the trouble of inviting him to my table at The Cocoa Tree one evening. Fortunately, it was at a moment when Laverock was not at the club. Eubank was in his cups, which I think is why he confided in me. With a little encouragement, he confessed that he has begun to suspect Laverock is not the friend he appears to be, and then the rest spilled out.”
“So your work was half done. That is good.”
“After we spoke,” Gerry continued, “I convinced him to open the budget with his father. Told him it was the only thing to do. Fortunately, he’s not in quite as deep as Miss Eubank has feared. Said he’s out to the tune of twenty-five thousand pounds.”
Rowe whistled, causing Gerry to add, “I should say so. However, he said that for his father, it was only a drop in the bucket. It was the scold he wished to avoid.”
“Then he should avoid being a nodcock,” Rowe said heartlessly.
“Just so. A scold is nothing to family ruin, I reminded him, which will undoubtedly happen if Eubank continues on at this pace.”
“I am beginning to better understand my mother’s reasons for throwing Miss Eubank at my feet if they are as comfortable as that.”
Gerry swiveled on his saddle to study him for a moment. “Change your mind about Miss Eubank?”
With the feeling still so present of Camilla in his arms, the thought of anyone else in her place sent a spirit of revulsion through him. He shook his head. “No. She is not the one for me.”
“Glad to hear it.” Gerry looked up as they traveled once again under the alley of stately linden trees. “For as odd as the request seemed to me, I did meet with Miss Eubank, and I must say that she is a woman of sense and easy to talk to. Easy on the eyes too,” he admitted.
Now it was Rowe’s turn to look at Gerry. “She has enough spirit for you?”
A soft chuckle escaped Gerry’s lips. “Yes, I suppose she does. Oh, it may not seem like much to someone else, but her request for me to grant her an interview was courageous. She confided that she merely wished to spare her father a great shock by learning the worst of it herself first. And she did not ask me for details about her brother that I could not in good conscience give.” He shrugged.
“I suppose that’s enough spirit for me.”
“I am glad to hear you’ve had your reward for doing a good deed.” Rowe’s lips quivered in amusement. “I needn’t have sold you my bays after all. Therefore—”
“Don’t bother finishing that sentence, Pembroke. You will only waste your breath.”
The sounds of Tom and Henry playing, and given the way the coach rocked on its wheels, likely climbing over their parents, emanated from the carriage in front of them.
One of the twins—Tom, he thought—peered through the window that faced him and waved.
Rowe smiled and used his finger to indicate that his nephew should turn around and sit like a properly behaved young man.
The face disappeared, and they rode in silence for a little longer.
“So…wedding plans?” he asked him.
“A courtship,” Gerry said cautiously. “Let us start with a courtship.”
Rowe smiled to himself, thinking it an excellent bit of advice and one he should probably take. The truth of the matter, though, was that he hadn’t the heart to settle for a long courtship. He wanted marriage.