Page 13 of An Earl Like You (Games Earls Play #6)
“Nobody, by the looks of them.” Lady Tremblay gave a disdainful sniff. “My dear Laetitia, their gowns! They have a whiff of the country about them. Why, they look as if they’ve just stumbled into London from some tragically dusty corner of Cumbria, or some other similarly dreadful place.”
“They’re with Lady Fosberry, mamma. They must be somebody . Windham?” Laetitia’s tone was courteous enough, but a layer of ice lurked underneath her practiced charm.
There would be no keeping this secret. If he didn’t tell them, someone else would. “Lady Margaret, Hat—er, Lady Harriet, and Lady Sarah Parrish. They’re Lord?—”
“Lord Melrose’s sisters,” Laetitia finished with a sidelong glance at her mother. “Yes, I remember Lord Melrose. He was the nonesuch some decade or so ago, I believe. But how wonderful the Parrish family has found their way back to London! Isn’t it wonderful, mamma?”
Lady Tremblay did not appear to find it wonderful at all. If her glower had had the power to set fire, the Parrish sisters would promptly have burst into flames. “I don’t see Lord Melrose anywhere about.”
“No. I don’t believe the earl and Lady Melrose have arrived in London yet.”
“What, you mean they sent the three sisters here alone ?” Lady Tremblay gave him a scandalized look. “How excessively peculiar.”
He’d just been thinking the same thing, but he’d be damned if he’d agree with Lady Tremblay. “I don’t see why. Lady Fosberry appears to have them well in hand.”
“Yes, well, Lady Fosberry does enjoy her misfits, does she not? You will cease staring at them at once, Laetitia,” Lady Tremblay snapped, turning her back on them. “The Parrish sisters are nothing to us.”
If that were truly the case, he might have rested easier, but precisely what he’d hoped wouldn’t happen was now happening. Hattie, Margaret and Sarah had caught the attention of the Tremblay family, and God knew that was sure to cause no end of trouble.
This was what came of Melrose’s absence, damn the man.
Even Lady Tremblay wouldn’t dare to make a move against the Earl of Melrose—he was too wealthy and too well-connected for that, but the presence of the sisters alone in London could well prove too tempting for Lady Tremblay to resist, even if it meant tangling with Lady Fosberry.
“Do fetch us some lemonade, won’t you, Windham? Come, Laetitia. Lady Peregrine is just over there, and we haven’t yet bid her a good morning.”
Laetitia didn’t move. She was still watching the Parrish sisters, and there was no mistaking the calculating look in her eyes. It didn’t bode well, that look. He’d seen it often enough to know that.
“Lord Egerton appears to have taken a fancy to them.” Laetitia nodded toward the terrace, a knowing little smirk on her lips.
Egerton! Despite his efforts not to give himself away, Cass’s head jerked toward the terrace so violently his neck cracked.
Of all the scoundrels that haunted London’s streets, Egerton was the very worst of the lot. No one would ever guess it to look at him, but underneath his handsome face and celebrated charm, the title and the impeccable clothing the man was devious, malicious, and as slippery as a snake.
“You look troubled, Lord Windham, and I can’t imagine why.” Lady Laetitia turned to him, that strange smirk still on her lips. “Isn’t Lord Egerton a friend of yours?”
He had been, once, but that was before he’d discovered whom—and what—Egerton was.
“He intends to marry this year, you know,” Laetitia went on. “I daresay any one of the Parrish sisters could do far worse than to become Lady Egerton.”
“For pity’s sake, Laetitia,” Lady Tremblay snapped. “I haven’t the faintest interest in Lord Melrose’s sisters’ marriage prospects. Now, come at once, will you? Lady Peregrine awaits.”
Lady Tremblay moved off in Lady Peregrine’s direction with Laetitia following her, and he went off to fetch their blasted lemonade, which took far longer than it should have done, as it was an unusually warm morning, and the entire party wanted lemonade.
He did his best not to stare at Hattie, but everywhere he looked, every time he turned his head she was there, either in his direct line of sight or hovering on the periphery.
She looked like a bright golden bird, the folds of her pale blue muslin gown fluttering in the light breeze, and try as he might, his wayward gaze kept wandering back to the corner where she stood with her sisters.
Lady Tremblay might scoff all she liked at their gowns, but he’d never seen the sisters look as well as they did this morning. In the years since his father had dragged him away from Kent they’d blossomed as surely as the wildflowers they’d once gathered in the meadow.
Their gowns were simple, yes, but they didn’t need the extravagant adornments so many ladies of the ton relied upon.
His gaze landed once again on Hattie, her cheeks pink from laughing at some nonsense of Egerton’s.
Her only ornamentation was a lace fichu, and a dark blue ribbon woven amongst her fair curls.
He’d missed her. There was no denying it. Seeing her now with her bluebell-blue eyes alight with laughter was like seeing a dream he’d had a thousand times come to life before his eyes.
She’d at last ceased writing to him after he’d stopped replying. It had been months since he’d had a letter from her, but it felt much longer than that, the emptiness that had once been filled by her letters an endless ache inside him.
But it was better this way, better if they didn’t write to each other any longer, and better if they weren’t friends, because sooner or later she’d end up regretting her association with him. One way or another, their friendship would end up hurting her.
Or so he’d told himself, but now…
It was one thing to give her up when he hadn’t seen her in years, but she was here now, and it was like looking through a window into the past, into a brief time when she’d been his best friend, and he’d been happy.
But that was before he’d been crowned his father’s heir. It didn’t matter that it was a crown he’d never asked for, and one he’d never wanted. It was his now, and his father had spent the past twelve years of his life making certain he understood what was expected of the Earl of Windham.
The title was all that mattered now. That, and the money.
“Good morning, Windham. How do you do?”
Cass tore his gaze away from Hattie, and turned to find Magnus Sedgewick, Lord Pembroke standing beside him, one of Lady Farthingale’s absurdly tiny glasses clutched awkwardly in his big paw.
“Pembroke. It’s good to see you. I didn’t know you were in London.”
“I just arrived two days ago.” Pembroke glanced around at Lady Farthingale’s guests, his expression glum. “I’ve come for the season, and I don’t mind telling you, Windham, I’m rather regretting it.”
“Garden parties not your sort of thing, Pembroke?” Pembroke was a decent fellow, but he was rather stern, and a trifle stodgy for such a young man, and thus not a favorite with the ton .
“Not at all, no. Not garden parties, London, or the season, I’m afraid.” His eye caught something over Cass’s shoulder then, and his eyebrows rose. “Although perhaps I’ve spoken too soon.”
Or rather, someone. Margaret Parrish.
“You wouldn’t happen to be acquainted with that young lady, would you, Windham? The one in the green dress, standing next to Lady Fosberry?”
“In fact, I am acquainted with her. That young lady is Margaret Parrish. She’s the eldest of Lord Melrose’s younger sisters. Shall I introduce you?”
“That would be kind of you.”
“Of course.” It was a stroke of good luck, as it gave him an opportunity to warn Egerton, who was still hanging about Hattie like an unpleasant smell, to cast his nets elsewhere.
“…fascinating, Lady Harriet,” Egerton was saying as Cass and Pembroke approached the group. “Do tell me more about the lectures, won’t you? I’ve always been fascinated with horticulture.”
God above, what utter bollocks. Egerton couldn’t tell a daisy from a rose. “Are you really, Egerton? How curious. I’ve known you for years, and I don’t recall you ever mentioning a single word about horticulture.”
“Windham.” Egerton’s lip curled. “Where did you come from?”
“The other side of the lawn, Egerton. I should think that would be obvious.” Cass didn’t quite turn his back on Egerton, but it was a near thing. “Lady Fosberry, are you acquainted with Lord Pembroke?”
“Only by name. Lord Pembroke, how do you do?” Lady Fosberry offered Pembroke one of her most gracious smiles. “May I present my young friends to you, my lord? These ladies are Lord Melrose’s sisters. Lady Sarah, Lady Harriet, and Lady Margaret.”
“My pleasure, ladies,” Pembroke murmured politely, but he was looking at Margaret when he said it.
“Lord Pembroke.” She nodded shyly at him, her cheeks coloring prettily.
“The ladies and gentlemen are forming pairs for the lilac walk.” Hayward held out his arm to Sarah Parrish. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me, Lady Sarah? With Lady Fosberry’s permission, of course.”
“Yes, yes.” Lady Fosberry waved them away. “Do go on, Sarah.”
Sarah cast a quick glance at her eldest sister, but she couldn’t refuse without being dreadfully rude, and she turned to Hayward with a smile. “Yes, of course, my lord.”
Margaret’s flushed cheeks paled as she watched them go, but she recovered quickly when Lord Pembroke offered her his arm with a smile. “May I escort you, Lady Margaret?”
“It would be my pleasure, my lord.”
Cass hadn’t spoken a word to Hattie. He hadn’t even dared to look at her, certain his expression would give him away, yet somehow he knew what was about to unfold, as if it had already happened.
Then, in the next moment, it did.
Egerton gave Hattie his oiliest smile, opened his mouth, and said, “Lady Harriet would you do me the honor of?—”
That was as far as he got.
“I’m afraid that’s out of the question, Egerton.” Before he knew what he was about to do, Cass stepped smoothly between Hattie and Egerton before Egerton could lay claim to her arm. “Lady Harriet has already agreed to accompany me on the lilac walk.”
Without another word, he took Hattie’s arm and led her away.