Pursuing Lord Pascal (Dashing Widows 4)

“You want to talk to Amy about Lord Pascal,” Meg said.

Amy blushed, although it was no secret in the household that Pascal had set his sights on the widowed Lady Mowbray.

“I do indeed,” Sally said. “Mind you go quietly upstairs. Morwenna’s asleep.”

“No, she’s not. I saw the light in her window when we came in.”

“Nonetheless, don’t you go disturbing her.”

“I won’t.” Meg made a pretty curtsy in Amy’s direction. “Goodnight, Amy. Honestly I don’t know how you resist Lord Pascal. I think he’s gorgeous.”

“That’s enough out of you, miss,” Sally said. “And you’re not to dream of Amy’s beau.”

Amy laughed. “Oh, let her, if she wants to. I dreamed of him myself, when I was a giddy girl.”

Meg’s grin hinted that the young lady gracing the season’s ballrooms hadn’t completely overtaken the impudent hoyden of a few months ago. “So you’re childhood sweethearts reunited?”

“Not at all. He didn’t know I was alive, but I had a romantical streak when I was fourteen.”

“Meg, it’s time you were in bed, instead of asking rude questions,” Sally said, although her attempts at sternness were never very convincing.

“Yes, Aunt.” She paused at the door, and the humor left her eyes. “And thank you. I know I’m a trial to you, but I’m grateful for everything you’re doing for me.”

“Not that much of a trial.” Sally’s expression softened. “Away with you, mousekin.”

Amy smiled after Meg as she left. “She’s a lovely girl.”

“She is. And I hope she finds happiness. I like Sir Charles, and he’s been most particular in his attentions since he arrived in London last week.”

“He has.” Although in Amy’s opinion, he was interested in Sally, rather than her pretty niece. She knew Sally well enough by now not to voice that opinion. Sally believed that at thirty, she was past the age of romance. “I like him, too.”

“He’s invited us to the Royal Academy tomorrow. I do hope Meg doesn’t betray her complete ignorance of painting. Sir Charles is quite the connoisseur. Did you notice the Titian in his drawing room?”

Amy hid a smile. “I did indeed. Luckily you can talk pictures, if Meg finds herself at sea.” Over supper, Sir Charles and Sally had enjoyed a lively discussion about Mr. Turner’s latest works. Meg had been busy, telling Amy and Pascal about her father’s stables. The chit mightn’t know much about art, but she could wax eloquent on equine bloodlines.

Sally rose from her chair near the fire. “Would you like a brandy?”

A small glass of brandy was the perfect accompaniment to these late night chats. “Yes, please.”

While Sally poured their drinks, a comfortable silence fell. It still astounded Amy how easily she and Sally had fallen into friendship. They were both lonely, and she’d learned to appreciate Sally’s worldly experience and sound common sense.

Sally passed Amy a brandy and carried hers back to her chair. “I’m worried about Morwenna.”

“I am, too.” Amy sipped her drink. “But to give her her due, she’s doing better than I thought she would.”

“Oh, I agree. She puts on a great pretense of enjoying herself. But under the gaiety, she’s still grieving.”

Amy settled back and let the liquor and the fire melt away the night’s tension. The strain of this prolonged torture of a courtship told on her. With every moment in Pascal’s company, her control became more frayed. Tonight, he’d looked so disheartened, she’d nearly flung herself into his arms and begged him to kiss her.

But she was painfully aware that his lovers were always cheaply won, and just as easily forsaken. She couldn’t bear to become another eager, forgettable woman in a long list of eager, forgettable women.

“Sally, she needed every ounce of courage she possessed to come to London and face the world again. She and Robert were deeply in love. Give her time. And don’t forget that she’s missing Kerenza.” Kerenza was at Woodley with Silas and Caroline and all her Nash cousins. Morwenna knew her daughter was fine, but that didn’t make the separation easier.

“I know she is. I just wish she was happy.”

“Especially after you’ve tried so hard to give us a memorable few weeks.”

Sally waved her glass in a dismissive gesture. “I’ve loved having you both to stay—and Meg, too.”