Rival Desires (Properly Spanked Legacy 1)

How naive the young woman was. Her rescue hadn’t been lovely at all. “That night was more frightening than romantic,” she said, looking down at her hands. “Of course, I would have hated to succumb to the fire, but it was also scary to be rescued by your brother. I didn’t know him when he swept me up onto his horse.”

“Ah, he swept you up.” A soft blush pinkened Elizabeth’s cheeks. “My head is full of silly dreams, everyone says so. Forgive me. Of course the fire was frightening and not romantic at all. I’m glad you’re here now, and safe. Wescott will always keep you safe and help chase away your fears.”

Ophelia glanced again at her husband, wondering if he’d told his family about her nightmares. “I’m sure he wants me to be happy.” By some miracle, she kept the doubt from her voice.

“Oh, yes, of course he does,” Elizabeth said with no doubt at all. “He was the best big brother to me and my sisters, the very best. I know a great many things about him even though we’re the farthest apart in age. I shall tell you some things right now, so you can know him better. Where to start?” She laughed. “Well, he can be a bit high and mighty at times. You’ve probably already realized that.”

Ophelia shifted on her bottom without thinking. “I did realize that early on.”

“Let’s see, what else? He enjoys gambling at cards, but he’s not a problem gambler. He mainly plays at parties so he can win small prizes and gloat.”

“I can see him doing that.” Elizabeth’s comical tidbits about her brother were starting to mellow Ophelia’s dark mood.

“He also likes the theater. Oh, I hope your voice recovers, because he’d love to hear you sing. As far as what he likes to eat, it’s pretty much anything and everything, although he’s especially fond of Welsh shortbread.”

“Welsh shortbread?” Ophelia tilted her head in question. “How is that different from Scottish shortbread?”

“It’s not different at all,” said Elizabeth with a grin. “But Mama told us it was Welsh whenever the cook made it for us, because that’s where she was from. We’re all half-Welsh, which is where I got this dark hair. It runs in her family. I wonder if your children will have dark, Welsh hair. Probably not, since Wescott got my father’s blond hair, and you’re blonder still. Are you half-anything?”

Ophelia thought a moment. “I’m…well. Perhaps I’m half used to being married to your brother.” She might as well tell her the truth. “I’m half worried, and half pleased. Sometimes I look at him and find him very handsome and interesting, and the other half of the time, I wish I was back at my parents’ house in my childhood bed.”

Elizabeth’s easy smile dimmed a little at those words. “Oh, Ophelia, I suppose that’s how things naturally go, if you don’t marry for love. I’m sad things aren’t falling right into place for both of you, but they will. You must believe that.”

Whether they do or not, I’m stuck for life. She didn’t say the words to Elizabeth. His sister was so kind, and so fond of Wescott, she couldn’t say anything rude.

“You must come visit me at Arlington Hall this fall and winter,” she said. “Whenever you’re frustrated or lonely, ride over to see me and we’ll pretend to be real sisters, and tell each other all the secrets we wish. I can help you solve any problems that come up, and you can help me prepare for my first season, since you’ll be a wise married lady and I’ve not even danced at any balls.” She clapped her hands. “Oh, and we can use familiar names with one another. Sometimes my family calls me Lisbet, and you…perhaps I can call you Fifi. Isn’t that a pet name for Ophelia?”

She hid a grimace. “You can call me Fifi if you like.”

“Perfect. Come, would you like to talk to Hazel? I believe their card game is at an end. Look how my sister pouts, she must have lost badly. By the by, Hazel thinks your fine, pale hair is ever so pretty and elegant. She’s jealous but she wouldn’t admit it. She’s just your age, and she can’t wait to be married. Our other sister Charlotte just married last year, and she and her husband are expecting a baby soon, and my oldest sister Louisa, well, she’s been married forever.” Elizabeth paused to laugh. “Louisa gives all of us advice about husbands and children whenever we see her, whether we ask for it or not.”

“My sister recently married too,” Ophelia offered, trying to get in a word edgewise. “Her name is Nanette.”

“I imagine Charlotte and Hazel might know her. Let’s go ask.”

Elizabeth took her hand and led her over to Hazel, rattling off the primary men her sister was interested in, as well as the hopefuls who didn’t stand a chance. Ophelia didn’t know who any of them were, but the sisters’ chatter was so amusing, she could almost picture the hapless men trying to keep up.