Wildfire Kiss (Sir Edward 1)

She had not planned on inviting him until her brother’s friend Banbridge asked her to, and she found herself without a reason to refuse—in fact, she was rather obligated to include him, since Babs had accepted him.

Now here he was, staring at her poor niece and making her dashed uncomfortable. She wouldn’t have it. The girl was a trial, yes, but a dear creature whom she loved, and she would not have her badgered by the man. Babs didn’t want him, and Jane meant to put a halt to it. First, however, she would have to find out just how he had forced her niece into this position.

At least she had had the forethought to seat Otto beside her niece. The count always seemed to be able to make her laugh.

***

Otto was at that moment leaning into Babs and telling her jovially, “Prinny was only just saying the other night that this author, the one that wrote that outrageous novel, had made himself immortal. Said he preferred it over every other Gothic he had ever read and means to discover who the author is so that he may thank him personally.”

“Really,” returned Babs, who though she might stop breathing. “I have always preferred the works of a man like Walter Scott.”

“You are no doubt referring to Marmion, which has always held a special fascination for me.” Sir Edward directed his next words to the woman seated beside him, rather than across the table. “The notion of a knight riding hard to take up his intended bride and escape with her under the noses of all her family is most …” He looked at Babs. “ … exciting.”

Otto waved this off and took another helping of potatoes. “Indeed … how dare they try and marry his bride off to someone else. I loved the way Scott handled that piece.”

“Tyson,” cut in Corry, changing the subject, “has been training his beagles, you know. When Sir Frederick and I took a stroll this morning along the beach, we came upon him. They seem to be coming along nicely.”

“Bah!” the count declared. “Beagles. What are they next to the fox-hunting hounds? What could compare to fox hunting?”

“Stag hunting,” answered Sir Edward.

“Dreadful … stag hunting,” Babs snapped. “They run a straight line and therefore don’t stand a chance …”

“Absurd child, what makes fox hunting acceptable?” Sir Edward returned.

“Fox are cunning. They know how to lead the hounds a merry chase, and they go after the farmers’ chickens. They kill all of the chickens without eating them … just for fun. Fox hunters help the farmers, you see, keep things … even.”

Otto nodded his head vigorously. “Answer that, Ned!”

“Enough bickering,” said Lady Jane. “This is not fit conversation for the table. Kill and destroy! Faith.” She shook her head. “I have heard that the Stael is due to arrive shortly. Is it true, do you think?”

Babs smiled to herself. Her aunt was savvy and dear and something else—she was suspicious. Corry was correct: she was a knowing one. Perhaps, just perhaps she could help her out of this awful muddle?

Her mind went back to the note she had received in the late afternoon from the duke. She had read and reread it so many times, she knew it by heart.

Dearest Babs,

Sir Charles drags me to London though it is my inclination to remain here with you just now.

My love, trust me and don’t do anything foolish. Only wait for my return to set things right … for I shall. Trust me.

Nick

She found she did trust him, without any doubt whatsoever, but what did he mean, ‘don’t do anything foolish’? Did he know …? He couldn’t know why she had accepted Sir Edward’s suit—could he?

Even if he knew, there was nothing he could do. She was the only one who could see herself out of this muddle. She had nearly made up her mind that she would take her sad story to the Prince …

Her thoughts had taken her away as dinner ended and everyone rose from the table. The men were on their way to the library. She found Corry’s hand, but just as Corry led her away to the sitting room with the ladies, Sir Edwards stalled her with a touch.

She jerked away from him.

He eyed her angrily. “I am not some kind of monster …” he said on a low note meant only for her.

Corry heard him and snapped, “Yes, you are.”

His brows shot up, evidently surprised that his intended had confided all to her cousin. He inclined his head, smirked, and left them to each other while he cooled his heels with the gentlemen in the other chamber.

“You will not marry him,” Corry said.