“They’re poor as church mice,” she murmured in Averil’s ear, with, Averil thought, an unbecoming note of triumph.
“Many old families are rather eccentric.”
Beth shot her a look of disbelief. “Eccentric? Averil, this isn’t being eccentric, this is being penniless!”
“Well, why the pretense?” Averil whispered back. Across the room she could see Lady Melrose making her way toward them, tugging at her shawls as she came. With her turban and old-fashioned clothing she made rather a strange figure, but Beth had assured her the old lady was completely respectable and moved in the best circles in London society.
“What pretense?” Beth hissed.
“I mean, why would Lord Southbrook pretend he was wealthy if he was not? Unless it’s his pride. Oh, Beth, that must be it! He didn’t want us to know he was in such dire straits. I wish he’d been honest with me.”
It was endearing, really, Averil thought, but she did wish he’d be honest with her. She didn’t care a jot that he had no money. Money was all well and good, but it was the use one put it to that counted. Her trustees managed her own fortune, but she knew that when she was finally given control she intended to use it to help those in need, her sister being among them.
“Averil—” Beth began, but it was too late. Lady Melrose had reached them.
“Lady Averil,” she said, with a quelling look at Beth. Beth murmured something and scuttled away and Lady Melrose smiled more warmly. “It is brave of you to come to Southbrook. I stay away, unless, of course, my great-nephew calls upon me. I am very fond of Rufus, you know.”
Averil murmured a reply. The old lady made her nervous, but she told herself not to be silly. Perhaps Lady Melrose was simply satisfying herself that Averil was not hunting a husband with a large castle.
She swallowed. “Hunting” was exactly what her friends would be urging her to do. And Rufus was the very man she had promised them she wanted to marry.
“I believe you are thinking of acquiring the dower house for your charity, Lady Averil? I remember the days when that house was full of Southbrook relatives—my father could never say no—but now there are only a few of us left. Myself and James and Rufus, and of course young Eustace. A pity. Like many ancient families we are dying out. Rufus needs to marry again and bring forth a crop of children.”
Averil wondered if Lady Melrose was hinting at something. She seemed to be staring very hard at her. The idea that perhaps, that maybe, she wanted Averil to “hunt” Rufus, just as her friends did, made her a little dizzy.
Because that was exactly what she wanted to do herself.
She was in love with him. She thought about him all the time, she even dreamed about him. This must surely be love.
“I-I . . .” she said, knowing her cheeks were hot.
“What do you think of my great-nephew?” Lady Melrose didn’t wait for a reply. “Please, do not spare my blushes. I am an old lady and I have seen most things. I remember your mother. A real beauty, but rather unstable I fear. I don’t believe you are much like her.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Good. Don’t want any questionable blood in the family. Good, strong children, that’s what we need.”
Averil looked about her for help, but there was none to be had. Douglas McInnes was speaking with Rufus, and Violet was saying good night to Eustace, who was going off to bed, and probably planning to take Hercules with him. James and Beth were in furious conversation at the table where coffee had been served.
Her desperate glance returned to Rufus, and as if she had called to him aloud, his head came up and he frowned. And then, to her relief, he excused himself from Douglas and began to make his way across the room.
“Great-Aunt Mildred, isn’t it past your bedtime?” he said sharply, his gaze searching Averil’s face.
She could hardly look him in the eye, so conscious was she of all that had been said, and all she’d been imagining.
“Very well, Rufus, I will retire now.” Mildred caught his hand with her clawlike fingers. “Don’t disappoint me,” she added.
Rufus smiled, that smile that turned Averil’s heart inside out, and gave her a glimpse of the man inside the wicked earl’s scarred exterior. “I’d never do that, Mildred,” he said and kissed her hand.
She patted his cheek fondly, and then with a meaningful nod at Averil, left them alone.
“Did she embarrass you?” His voice was deep and soft beside her, making her shiver inside. “I apologize.”
Averil shook her head. “No, she didn’t. At least.” She glanced up at him, and couldn’t help but smile. “She’s very forthright. I always think of myself as being forthright, and now I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of one of my sermons.”
He stepped in front of her, so that she could no longer see the people in the room and they could no longer see her. His fingers brushed her cheek, light as moth’s wings, and suddenly he was very close. Her heart was beating erratically and she felt as if she might fall forward into his arms, into his kiss. She couldn’t wait any longer, she really couldn’t.
Perhaps he felt the same, because he said, his voice husky, “Will you stroll in the garden with me, Averil?”