Page 28 of A Lady’s Rules for Seaside Romance (The Harp & Thistle #3)

T he weeks following the ball at Summerwood, everyone was busy with unending activity.

Ollie and Evelyn had the twins out of the house as much as possible; otherwise, the boys would get fussy.

Anne was often away with Mary and Freddy visiting friends or going into town.

The Duke of Chalworth traveled back and forth between Brighton and London, though recently, Queen Victoria had finally departed for her summer holiday, which meant Parliament was out for the next few months.

Now, the duke was ever-present, which meant he and Lily were attached at the hip while Vivian and Dantes did their part by helping the duke entertain for the season.

This, to Victor’s secret ire, meant he was often roped into these social gatherings.

Vivian, Dantes, and the duke were set on helping Victor reacquaint himself with his future peers.

It was a bit strange for the first few weeks.

Some of the men who visited with their wives were former schoolmates.

Victor didn’t experience nearly the same severity of bullying Dantes had in boarding school, but he had experienced some.

However, unlike Dantes, Victor hadn’t given a single fig about that back then.

He’d simply hated boarding school. After living on the streets for years, with full freedom to do as he’d wished with no adults around to tell him what to do, Victor had become fully independent.

And being in a boarding school with headmasters and professors and never a single moment to oneself, it had quickly become impossible for Victor to tolerate and he’d left, never looking back.

Victor was glad the family was supportive and graciously included him in everything.

He would never be able to take over the dukedom without them.

But he had also hoped Anne would have been the one to help him.

Alas, ever since the ball at Summerwood, Anne had all but disappeared from his daily life, even more so than her odd absence previously. And he wasn’t sure what to do.

Over the years, Anne had, bit by bit, opened up to Victor about her relationship with her husband. The real relationship, that was. It all came down to this: Winthrop had taken what he’d wanted, when he’d wanted it. He hadn’t cared what the ramifications would be.

Since it had taken so long for Anne to open up herself to the possibility of romance once again, even if a brief one, he knew she would be quite cautious.

That caution was why he’d given her the drawing without telling her it was from him.

His artistic talent was something he had kept to himself for his entire life.

Admittedly, he was shy about revealing it to anyone, especially now that Evelyn was a part of the family.

He would never compare to the famed artists she knew on a personal basis, or those whose creations were at the museum where she was employed.

The family often visited and were well acquainted with real artwork.

But he wanted to share a piece of himself with Anne, and this seemed a good way to do it anonymously.

Neither of them was ready for anything else just yet.

That was also why he’d given her a kiss on her cheek and hadn’t touched her otherwise.

She was skittish, a bit like Onyx in that way, and he of course would respect that and any hesitancy she showed.

Though he never would have expected this to happen, he knew that kiss on her cheek had thrown her off.

But he also knew she would have no problem speaking up if she had an issue with it or wished him to never do it again.

She hadn’t protested, but she had also stepped back from him a bit, as if unsure what to make of it.

And he had to respect that. He respected her, cared for her, but he didn’t know what to do next, either, other than wait. It was a good sign that she hadn’t told him to stop, at least.

Thankfully, he still had his horse-riding lessons with her, though they were no longer a daily event. And Freddy and Mary were always present, of course.

Not that he was complaining. He didn’t like that Anne seemed to be pulling away from him, but it was nice to be around the children more.

They were all riding together on the beach this morning. The sand was cool, the air salty and fresh, the lulling waves a calming presence. Seagulls skittered away as the horses bounded past, the birds crying above with hope that the humans had food to steal.

Ahead of Victor, Anne and Mary had Onyx and Pancake. Both ladies looked smart and feminine in their riding habits. Anne wore the same dark-green habit as she had during the first disastrous lesson. She looked beautiful this morning, and it twisted his stomach in a knot.

A knot he had to ignore as he stared at her back. As he did so, Anne briefly glanced over her shoulder at him as if sensing his stare, then quickly turned back around.

The ladies were too far ahead to overhear their conversation. Mary had been agitated this morning because invites had come in for an upcoming masquerade hosted by Lord and Lady Bell, the viscount and viscountess who had a summer home not far from Summerwood, but she wasn’t invited.

Mary was not shy about voicing her dislike of this. But Anne was oddly quiet about the subject.

Though Victor couldn’t hear them over the trotting of Marshmallow—he had come to the conclusion Anne enjoyed pairing him with horses who had overly cute names—he could tell they were arguing, based on Mary’s hands flying around and Anne’s rigid back.

“I wish we had been invited to the masquerade,” Freddy whined at Victor’s side.

Victor tore his attention away from Anne with a bit of regret and looked over to Freddy with a frown. That would explain the argument. “Who, you and your sister? You want to go?”

“Of course! It’s a masquerade!”

Marshmallow snorted as if he agreed with the boy. Victor, however, didn’t see the appeal. How uncomfortable it must be to wear a mask and costume all evening.

“Aren’t you going?” Freddy asked.

Victor tightened his grip on the reins. He had become far more comfortable in his horse-riding ability since the first day in Brighton, but he still focused too much on how he sat in the saddle and held the reins.

It didn’t quite feel natural just yet. “No, I don’t see a reason for me to,” Victor replied.

“Blast! I can’t imagine an unmarried man not wanting to go. I would think you’d be jumping at the opportunity.”

“Why? I don’t care to find and wear a costume. Frankly, to me, it sounds like a horrific way to spend an evening.”

“But the ladies !” Freddy responded with a boisterous voice.

Victor had to keep from reacting to this.

He wasn’t naive or ignorant—Freddy was already past the age where he would have started noticing young ladies.

But still, seeing it happen was strange.

Freddy still retained some of his boyish innocence, but it was fading away. It made Victor a bit sad, in a way.

“What about the ladies?” Victor decided it best to humor the lad.

Up ahead, Anne and Mary began to trot a bit faster, so Victor and Freddy followed suit.

“Granted, I haven’t seen a masquerade for myself,” Freddy said as he leaned forward with the increasing speed of his stallion. “But I’ve heard about them. The more concealed a young lady has her face, the more daring she becomes. And more willing for… Well, you know.”

Victor frowned deeply. He didn’t like where this discussion was going, and he gave the young man a sharp look. “What are you talking about?”

Freddy laughed with cocky exasperation. This, coupled with the black top hat perched atop his dark hair, created an unsettling flash of the lad’s father. “Once everyone gets drunk, all bets are off. I’ve heard the stories. Lord and Lady Bell’s annual masquerade is famous for its debauchery.”

Victor ignored the discomfort this caused. “What stories have you heard?”

“Oh, you know. Courtesans, multiple partners, and the like.”

Victor stared at the lad, horrified. He had visions of Anne wearing a mask, surrounded by handsy, eager men.

It made him sick to his stomach, and jealousy flamed hot, even though he had no right at all to feel that way.

How had Ollie and Dantes never mentioned this before?

He would have to corner one of them about it later.

“Your mother goes?” Victor couldn’t resist digging for information. However, he tried to keep his voice from sounding overly interested. “Every year?”

“Of course. The whole family does.” As the horses’ hooves pounded on the ground, Freddy’s jaw became tense. “My father used to go as well. When he was alive. Obviously.”

It struck Victor that Winthrop’s attendance at this debauched masquerade bothered Freddy. Yet he didn’t seem to mind that Anne attended.

Victor was at a loss of what to say. There was a tension in Freddy at the mention of Winthrop that was hard to ignore.

But none of it gave away the lad’s true thoughts on the man.

Victor knew what it was like to lose a father at a young age—he knew well how the mere mention of his own father had given Victor strong emotions for many years.

When he’d been a young lad himself, he’d only mentioned his father when he’d wanted to talk about him.

But for the most part, Victor had been fond of him.

How Freddy felt about Winthrop, Victor never could quite figure out.

The lad had been relatively tight-lipped on that.

And so had Mary, now that he thought about it.

“I didn’t know that,” Victor said, hoping to drag out the conversation.

Freddy looked over and seemed to be waiting for Victor to say something.

But all he could think about was what Anne did at these masquerades.

Victor decided to turn the conversation back.

“Did it bother you that your father attended?”