Page 35 of Cupid Comes to Little Valentine (The Venturesome Ladies of Little Valentine #1)

“Isn’t it?” Bea asked, watching Clementine with too much attention.

Her sister was so lovely, those who did not know her often thought she must not be terribly clever, but Clementine was very aware she had an insightful nature.

Bea comprehended a good deal more about what people really meant when they spoke than Clementine was comfortable with. “Don’t you love him?”

Clementine opened her mouth to say she did not, but found the words stuck in her throat. “I-I don’t know,” she said instead. “I’m not certain how to tell. I like him very much. I enjoy his company, and he makes me laugh. He also—”

She blushed. Her sisters leaned closer.

“Well, don’t stop there!” Izzy said impatiently. “He also what?”

Clementine covered her face with her hands and took a deep breath. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s silly, only, when he holds my hand or… or looks at me a certain way, it’s like my entire body lights up.”

Bea sighed, clutching her arms around her. “Yes,” she said simply.

Clementine gave her a sharp glance, recalled to her senses and her job as the eldest sister.

“Bea,” she said sternly. “Whilst we are on the subject of the dangers of men, Mrs Adamson told me I must warn you, and you, Izzy, about Lord Stonehaven. She says you must be on your guard around him. As he will no doubt be attending the wedding, you will be bound to see him again. She told me to tell you that you must not form any romantic notions about him. He’s not the marrying kind and does not know what tenderness means.

He may be friends with Lord Beaumarsh, but they are different men.

Mrs Adamson seems to know him well, and she does not trust him.

Neither do I. You must not encourage him, Bea. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Clemmie, of course,” Bea said with a placid smile.

Clementine narrowed her eyes, a niggle of doubt still lingering. Bea could be surprisingly stubborn when the mood took her. “Well, good,” she said, still watching her sister, who returned her gaze, her expression guileless.

Izzy reached for a biscuit and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I can’t believe you won’t live here anymore in a few weeks. We shall all miss you terribly.”

“And I-I shall m-miss you all too,” Clementine managed, then burst into tears.

“Oh, love. Don’t worry,” Izzy said, as both she and Bea enveloped her in a hug. “It’s going to be splendid. We both like Lord Beaumarsh very much, and you’re going to be terribly happy.”

“You will be,” Bea agreed with certainty.

“But if you are not, we shall come and rescue you,” Izzy said firmly.

“I promise you, Clementine. Just give us a signal. Like… Like saying you saw a seagull flying upside down. If you say or write that, we shall know at once you are in trouble, and we shall storm Cavendish House and run away with you!” Clementine, already choked with tears, sputtered at her sister’s outlandish imagination and the fierceness of her promise, and the three women fell about laughing.

Marley House, Battle, South-East Coast of England. 31 st July 1815

“You, my lord, are a coward.”

Beau regarded Stonehaven blearily across several empty wine bottles and shrugged.

“I never denied it. The less time I spend in Little Valentine before the wedding, the less chance there is she will come to her senses and call the whole thing off. I’m not entirely stupid, you know.

” He smirked, though his guts were in a knot.

He had almost gone to visit Clementine a dozen or more times over the past weeks, but had only seen her on Sundays in church, when her father had read the banns.

There had been too many curious gazes, too much interest from the town, agog with the news of their nuptials, to get a moment alone.

Beau still wasn’t certain if he was relieved by that or not.

He wanted to see her, he realised, to ask her how she felt, to discover how plans were coming along for the wedding celebrations, and to tell her about Cavendish House, about his plans for it, and for their future.

It could wait, he assured himself. They had the rest of their lives, but he had to get her to the altar first. Though he knew she was a sensible girl and would do the right thing for her family, and for her precious town, the possibility that she might marry him for those reasons alone made him feel a little sick.

He wanted to ask her if she would marry him anyway, if those things did not come with the deal, but he didn’t dare.

She was too honest, too forthright, and there was a high chance he would not like her answer. Best not to discuss it at all.

“Craven,” Stonehaven slurred, shaking his head. “That’s what it is. I shall not run away and hide when I get engaged.”

Beau snorted. “And who is the lucky lady?” he asked dryly.

“Mrs Adamson,” the marquess replied, startling Beau so much he almost dropped his glass.

“I beg your pardon?”

Stonehaven grinned at him, his eyes glassy with drink. “Surprise!” he said merrily. “Didn’t expect that, did you? But you’re not the only one who can do something seni—senibal— sensible , you know.”

“But the woman won’t even speak to you,” Beau protested.

Stonehaven tapped the side of his nose. “You don’t know. Don’t understand. Be fine. You’ll see,” he replied confidently.

Beau frowned and hoped Stonehaven’s wits returned to him when he sobered up.

He had no interest or energy to consider his friend’s odd start, however, for his own marriage would happen tomorrow and, whilst the best man might have the hangover from hell for the occasion, Beau would not join him.

He would not mess this up. Not if he could help it.