Page 32 of My Lord Rogue
As the afternoon wore on, the edges of the gathering frayed. Guests peeled off in pairs or trios, seeking shade beneath the willows or trailing after the servants who had begun to set out cakes and the first rounds of claret. The older men wandered toward the boat dock, inspecting the battered skiff as if debating the possibility of a mutiny. The young women arranged themselves on the slope nearest the water, their pastel gowns radiant but their conversation shaded in undertones.
Theo’s place was dictated by proximity to Teddy. They were, by all appearances, the devoted couple, his hand never far from her shoulder, her laugh always half a beat behind his cleverest line. From across the lawn, Verity watched with the satisfaction of a general whose battle plan had unfolded without a hitch. Lady Amelia, by contrast, circled like a hawk. At first she hovered, content to eavesdrop on the flurry of wit and feigned reminiscence that passed between the two. But as the performance deepened, so did her resolve to disrupt it.
She made her first attempt at separation by inserting herself into their conversation with a confectionary smile. “I do wonder,Lady Pattishall, if you remember the exact date you first wrote to the baron? I ask because my cousin is compiling a book of travel correspondences, and he claims that letters written in spring are always more amorous. Is that so?”
Theo smiled, all ice and lace. “I suspect the content depends more on the recipient than the season. In fact, Lord Teddington wrote to me first at the passing of my husband.”
Amelia’s smile sharpened. “Indeed. One hears that the baron’s travels set many a heart aflutter in Vienna, Paris, even St. Petersburg. Which was your favorite, my lord?”
Teddy didn’t miss a beat. “My favorite? Why, the visits home, of course. A man can visit every capital in Christendom, but there is only one England, and only one Theodosia.”
A few nearby guests, including the captain, murmured approval at the sentiment. Even Lady Amelia, momentarily stalled, could only nod.
She tried again minutes later, interrupting their laughter with the news that a “most fascinating bird” had been spotted on the far side of the lake, a variety rare to England, perhaps even the Continent.
“You simply must see it, my lord,” Amelia insisted. “Your taste for the exotic is legendary, is it not?”
He looked to Theo, as if deferring to her. “What do you think, my dear? Is there time for birdwatching, or have we another engagement?”
Theo lifted her chin. “I think it would be rude to leave the captain without company.”
Teddy turned back to Amelia. “There you have it, Lady Amelia. I am, as ever, at the mercy of my dear lady friend.”
Amelia retreated, defeated but undeterred.
A third time she pounced, inviting Theo to join her for a stroll to “visit Lady Ervan’s rose beds.” It was less invitation than challenge.
Theo declined with a soft, “Perhaps on our way back to the house later.”
After the young woman left, Teddy studied Theo, his face a study in bland innocence. “You were magnificent. I haven’t seen anyone more persistent than Lady Amelia.”
Theo exhaled, realizing only now that she had been holding her breath. “She is… formidable.”
He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. “Not so formidable as you, when you choose.”
She looked away, pretending to watch a dragonfly skirt the surface of the lake. “You are enjoying this too much.”
He leaned closer, so close she could feel the heat of him through the thin shield of her gown. “It’s rare to find an equal in such games. Rarer still to find a partner.”
The words unsettled her more than they should have. She turned, meaning to rebuke him, but he held up a hand, stopping her.
“My dear Lady Amelia,” he called over his shoulder, just loud enough to carry to the approaching woman, “I couldn’t possibly leave my Theo’s side, not after so long apart.”
There was laughter from the captain’s group, the men liked nothing better than a good, clean cut at a rival.
Verity, from her distant perch, caught Theo’s eye and raised a glass in silent salute.
The wind shifted, and for a moment the air was filled with the scent of cut grass. Theo felt herself dissolve a little, the edges of her resistance blurring. She was aware, with aching clarity, of every place their bodies did and did not touch.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice so soft she doubted he would hear.
He did. “For what?”
“For… deflecting. For not abandoning me to her.”
He smiled, the expression softer than any she’d seen from him. “You give me too much credit. Self-interest is the true engine of chivalry.”
She laughed, but the sound was unsteady.