The Beguilement of Lady Eustacia Cavanagh (The Cavanaughs 3)

When, after the end of the final course, Stacie rose to lead the ladies back to the drawing room, she was smiling; before she turned away, she met Frederick’s eyes and gave an infinitesimal nod. Between them, via a series of separate but apparently connected comments, she and Ryder had succeeded in planting the notion in Hadley’s mind that Frederick was on the cusp of announcing his “retirement” from managing the marquessate’s estates, effectively passing Carlisle’s potential inheritance on to Carlisle early, freeing Frederick, still retaining the title, to devote himself to the pursuit of his music via an extended sojourn on the Continent, visiting the major composers of the day.

Ernestine had, with absolutely exquisite timing, inserted the last tiny spark designed to ignite Hadley’s hopes and send them skyrocketing; in a whispered exchange, she’d confided to Hadley that she believed that, due to a childhood accident, Stacie had always feared she would be unable to conceive—a fact that had inhibited her from accepting any offer prior to Frederick’s, who, having Carlisle as his heir, hadn’t cared. Ernestine had done a superb job of appearing overcome at the thought of Frederick being so swept away by love, and she’d gabbled just a little in suggesting that a part of Frederick’s reason for wanting to travel on the Continent was to spare Stacie the inevitable questions and expectations and the resulting gossip.

Ernestine had been utterly believable; both Stacie and Ryder, pretending to discuss relatives while straining their ears to eavesdrop, had been awed by her performance.

On quitting the dining room, Stacie dropped back and looped her arm through Ernestine’s as her erstwhile companion walked sedately beside Emily toward the drawing room. “You were magnificent!” Stacie murmured.

Ernestine blushed. “I have never lied so much in my entire life, but I do believe he accepted every word.”

Stacie beamed across Ernestine at Emily, who had been seated opposite Ernestine at the table. “Did you hear it?”

Likewise beaming, Emily nodded. “A more accomplished performance, I have never witnessed.”

They walked into the drawing room and settled themselves on the chaise and the chairs in the arrangement they’d decided on. Stacie made for her usual armchair, one of the pair closest to the fireplace. Emily took its mate, while Ernestine left the armchair next to Emily vacant and took the next one down the room.

The dowager, who, with Mary, had accompanied Aurelia from the dining room, steered her to the long chaise. Mary sat at the end closest to Stacie, Aurelia sank down beside her, and the dowager took her usual position at the other end.

As they settled to chat about recent ton events, Stacie covertly observed Aurelia and had to admit that Mary’s suggestion that much of Aurelia’s rigidity might have its roots in nervousness appeared increasingly correct. Aurelia was gradually relaxing, albeit by painfully slow degrees.

Adhering to their plan, the men didn’t dally over their brandy and port. They returned to the drawing room and disposed themselves about the space. Ryder surreptitiously steered Carlisle to the armchair beside the dowager, yet himself remained closest to the door; he drew up a straight-backed chair, set it a little beyond Carlisle, facing the fireplace, and sat, crossing his long legs and giving the impression he was looking forward to hearing some news.

From where he sat, Ryder would be able to see the faces of everyone else in the room.

Frederick, meanwhile, walked to the fireplace and took up a stance before it, gracefully waving Hadley to the vacant armchair between Emily and Ernestine. Smiling easily, Hadley sat, exchanging an idle comment with Ernestine.

Stacie looked up into her husband’s eyes and allowed him to read her satisfaction. Thus far, everything had gone more or less as they’d scripted; now, it was Frederick’s turn to take center stage.

He smiled in gentle and open affection, then raised his head and looked around the company.

The chatter faded; the others all looked at him, and an expectant silence fell.

Frederick looked at Carlisle and Aurelia. “Now, to our news—mine and Stacie’s. The others already know, but I wanted you to be among the first to hear that we’re expecting our first child in January.”

Carlisle’s face broke into a spontaneously beaming smile. “Congratulations! That’s wonderful news!” That he was sincere was beyond question.

Aurelia’s perennially tight features softened, and she looked at Stacie and smiled—a gesture that reached her eyes and made her appear much more approachable. “My congratulations as well.” She raised her gaze to Frederick’s face. “You must both be thrilled.”

Stacie’s smile was entirely genuine. “We are.”

Along with everyone else, she looked at Hadley.

All color had drained from his face, and his gaze had grown distant; he’d been frozen in place, but when everyone stared at him, he blinked to attention and babbled, “Yes, congratulations—definitely, er…good news. I…wasn’t quite expecting that, but…well.” He flung a glance at Ernestine, who blinked innocently back, then Hadley dredged up a somewhat sickly smile for Stacie and Frederick. “I suppose I should have, of course.”

Then he stilled and focused on Frederick. “When are you planning to announce the impending birth?”

Carlisle stiffened and directed a disapproving look at his brother-in-law.

Aurelia stared at her brother, a frown forming in her eyes.

Frederick merely smiled, albeit with an edge. “We’re not planning on announcing anything at all until our child is born.”

Hadley’s relief was obvious to everyone—and everyone was watching. Carlisle looked increasingly puzzled, while Aurelia looked increasingly concerned.

Apparently oblivious to the swirling undercurrents, Frederick blithely went on, “However, as it happens, Ryder and I had occasion to meet with a Mr. Mordaunt in Wapping this afternoon—I believe you know him? I did share our news with him.”

“What?” Hadley’s face lost what little color he’d regained. He goggled at Frederick, then glanced at Ryder. “W-Why on earth did you tell him?”

Ryder smiled chillingly. “Because he was laboring under several misapprehensions regarding the House of Brampton, and as your principal creditor, Mordaunt deserved to know that your attempts to ensure that Carlisle inherits and unwittingly gives you access to the Brampton estate counting room, so to speak, are destined to come to naught.”