badly? Any man who hauled his mistress along on a journey like this, stashing her for his convenience in the nearest inn, was unfit for the notice of a gently bred female.
Men were all the same. It didn’t matter whether they were noblemen, or gentlemen, or men like this creature named Gavin Waring, who was neither noble nor gentle.
But her course of action was simple. She would simply pretend he didn’t exist. He was unworthy of attention anyway. Imposing, yes, with his height and broad shoulders and regular, pleasant features. Some women might even call him handsome. Well, it only stood to reason that he must be viewed as attractive, for he’d acquired a mistress awfully quickly after landing in England. Of course there was the attraction of his title. She stole a look at him. Even without the status of a title, she had to admit, Gavin Waring would catch feminine attention. His bearing wasn’t rigid enough to seem military, but the way he stood spoke of pride and confidence. Or arrogance, more like. If the solicitors really had found him in a farm feld…
She was pleased to see that the interruption had given Lucien a chance to regain control of his tongue, though the distraction had obviously not restored his composure. He was still a bit red-faced and inclined to mutter when Chalmers announced the arrival of the last guest, who turned out to be the duke’s physician. Emily was grateful to have a stranger in their midst, for surely that meant her father would mind his tongue.
“Dinner is served,” Chalmers announced a few minutes later, and a footman appeared to wheel the duke into the small dining room.
“No quarreling over who outranks whom, now,” the duke said over his shoulder. “And no escorting someone you’re related to. That leaves Dr. Mason and Athstone to see the ladies into the dining room. The rest of you can just follow along.”
Athstone? She’d rather be escorted by one of Uncle Josiah’s dogs. Emily put out a hand to summon the doctor to her, but she’d hardly moved yet when she saw Gavin bowing to Isabel and offering his arm. Emily would have sworn he was standing halfway across the room from her sister—far closer to Emily than to Isabel. How had he managed to move so quickly that he had cut the doctor off almost before the duke had finished his sentence?
Not that she was sorry, for the last thing she wanted was to spend all of dinner sitting next to him.
Instead, she ended up seated directly across from him, watching with annoyance as he conducted himself with perfect aplomb throughout the meal. The least he could do was stab his slice of sirloin with his knife like a savage! She dragged her attention back to Dr. Mason and made a halfhearted answer to his question about life in Barton Bristow.
Though she had been away from her cottage for less than a day, her regular life felt almost like a dream. How quickly she had fallen back into the customs of her upbringing—a gentleman holding her chair, the butler pouring her wine, a footman offering dish after dish in a savory feast for the senses. Somehow all this felt so much more real than her cottage in the village—and if it hadn’t been for her father and the need to be always on guard against what he might say next, she would have sunk into a pool of luxurious enjoyment.
Enjoy the comforts of the castle while you can. Soon enough it will be back to Barton Bristow…and boredom.
She caught herself up short. Not boredom. Peace of mind, the freedom to make her own choices, the surety of not having to listen to her father repeat his opinions every day—those benefits more than outweighed any shortcomings in her cottage life.
Though she had to admit the Earl of Chiswick had surprised her with his announcement. What was he thinking of, at this time of his life, to consider another marriage? Though consider was hardly the right word; he seemed to have already made up his mind to wed a girl even younger than his daughters…
As she
Men were all the same. It didn’t matter whether they were noblemen, or gentlemen, or men like this creature named Gavin Waring, who was neither noble nor gentle.
But her course of action was simple. She would simply pretend he didn’t exist. He was unworthy of attention anyway. Imposing, yes, with his height and broad shoulders and regular, pleasant features. Some women might even call him handsome. Well, it only stood to reason that he must be viewed as attractive, for he’d acquired a mistress awfully quickly after landing in England. Of course there was the attraction of his title. She stole a look at him. Even without the status of a title, she had to admit, Gavin Waring would catch feminine attention. His bearing wasn’t rigid enough to seem military, but the way he stood spoke of pride and confidence. Or arrogance, more like. If the solicitors really had found him in a farm feld…
She was pleased to see that the interruption had given Lucien a chance to regain control of his tongue, though the distraction had obviously not restored his composure. He was still a bit red-faced and inclined to mutter when Chalmers announced the arrival of the last guest, who turned out to be the duke’s physician. Emily was grateful to have a stranger in their midst, for surely that meant her father would mind his tongue.
“Dinner is served,” Chalmers announced a few minutes later, and a footman appeared to wheel the duke into the small dining room.
“No quarreling over who outranks whom, now,” the duke said over his shoulder. “And no escorting someone you’re related to. That leaves Dr. Mason and Athstone to see the ladies into the dining room. The rest of you can just follow along.”
Athstone? She’d rather be escorted by one of Uncle Josiah’s dogs. Emily put out a hand to summon the doctor to her, but she’d hardly moved yet when she saw Gavin bowing to Isabel and offering his arm. Emily would have sworn he was standing halfway across the room from her sister—far closer to Emily than to Isabel. How had he managed to move so quickly that he had cut the doctor off almost before the duke had finished his sentence?
Not that she was sorry, for the last thing she wanted was to spend all of dinner sitting next to him.
Instead, she ended up seated directly across from him, watching with annoyance as he conducted himself with perfect aplomb throughout the meal. The least he could do was stab his slice of sirloin with his knife like a savage! She dragged her attention back to Dr. Mason and made a halfhearted answer to his question about life in Barton Bristow.
Though she had been away from her cottage for less than a day, her regular life felt almost like a dream. How quickly she had fallen back into the customs of her upbringing—a gentleman holding her chair, the butler pouring her wine, a footman offering dish after dish in a savory feast for the senses. Somehow all this felt so much more real than her cottage in the village—and if it hadn’t been for her father and the need to be always on guard against what he might say next, she would have sunk into a pool of luxurious enjoyment.
Enjoy the comforts of the castle while you can. Soon enough it will be back to Barton Bristow…and boredom.
She caught herself up short. Not boredom. Peace of mind, the freedom to make her own choices, the surety of not having to listen to her father repeat his opinions every day—those benefits more than outweighed any shortcomings in her cottage life.
Though she had to admit the Earl of Chiswick had surprised her with his announcement. What was he thinking of, at this time of his life, to consider another marriage? Though consider was hardly the right word; he seemed to have already made up his mind to wed a girl even younger than his daughters…
As she
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