chair.
"What is it, dear? You've been so quiet today. You hardly said a word at breakfast. And now ... it's not like you."
This threatened to grow too serious. He preferred their usual banter. He dredged up a grin. “You often tell me I need to be more sober. I'm accommodating you for a change."
"I only want you to sober enough to find a wife. Not lose your good nature."
"Now my nature is bad?” he quipped.
She refused to take his bait. “You are not yourself. Are you troubled about something?"
He sighed. “No, just facing one of my many demons."
"Anything I can help you with?"
For a moment, he wished for his childhood days when he could tell her anything. But that was no longer possible. If she truly knew him now, she'd be shocked and disappointed.
He shook his head in reply to her question. “What did you do this afternoon, Aunt?"
"I called upon Miss Palmer.” Aunt Livy's face clouded.
Cole glanced at her, pleased at the unexpected opportunity. He'd been tempted to ply her for information, but he knew the moment he brought up any girl, Aunt Livy would never quit until she saw him happily wed to the poor chit. Now he could satisfy his curiosity without Aunt Livy being aware of his interest.
With the correct amount of polite boredom, he asked. “Have a pleasant visit?"
"Their situation is most desperate. Some of their servants have had to take other posts. She seemed subdued today. Perhaps her grief still weighs upon her."
"You mentioned her parents died recently?"
Aunt Livy leaned in as if to divulge a great secret, and Cole suppressed a smile. Even if the servants hovered nearby, he doubted she knew something they didn't; servants had their own web of gossip. Often, if he needed information, his valet, Stephens, knew all Cole required.
"They were in a carriage accident. Only the girl survived. Even the coachman perished."
"All in a single accident?"
"Tragic, isn't it?"
"Odd."
"Their youngest daughter, Hannah, had remained home due to an illness, so she was spared the accident, thankfully. I called upon Alicia Palmer once she had mended enough from her injuries to receive visitors, but she was so wrapped up in her own grief that I failed to provide any consolation. I believe she blames herself for surviving the accident that claimed her parents."
Cole nodded pensively as a kinship for the young lady awakened. It prodded an uncharacteristic surge of protectiveness. Strange, he couldn't seem to rid himself of that annoying flaw with regard to that girl.
But at least now he knew how Armand had died. He paused. Armand had been in the carriage accident, had he not? Aunt Livy had not mentioned his name.
He opened his mouth to ask about Armand's death, but Aunt Livy cut in. “Would you care to spend more time with the very available Miss Palmer, Cole?"
Cole frowned and almost waved farewell to the opportunity to learn more. “I humored you the other night at the ball. Give me a reprieve, Aunt."
She snorted in a decidedly un-ladylike manner and grinned. Finally. “Since when do I take advice from you? Perhaps if you weren't so wicked, I'd stop pestering you."
Wicked? If she only knew half of his sins. “Perhaps if you'd stop pestering me, I'd stop being so wicked."
She patted his hand. “Yes, yes, and if I didn't care, I wouldn't pester."
"Then I shall endeavor to remove myself from your good graces."
"Cole.” A rare look of tenderness crept into her eye and she banished the momentary lightheartedness. “You survived the war. Does marriage seem that much more terrifying?"
"Any sane bachelor would answer with an emphatic ‘yes’ to that question."
She chuckled. “Your brother Grant and I had a similar discussion last Season. It will be even more difficult to find him a wife than you."
"Impossible.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “I will marry someday, Aunt, if only to put an end to your meddling."
His attempt to draw her back into their comfortable banter failed, and worse, her voice
"What is it, dear? You've been so quiet today. You hardly said a word at breakfast. And now ... it's not like you."
This threatened to grow too serious. He preferred their usual banter. He dredged up a grin. “You often tell me I need to be more sober. I'm accommodating you for a change."
"I only want you to sober enough to find a wife. Not lose your good nature."
"Now my nature is bad?” he quipped.
She refused to take his bait. “You are not yourself. Are you troubled about something?"
He sighed. “No, just facing one of my many demons."
"Anything I can help you with?"
For a moment, he wished for his childhood days when he could tell her anything. But that was no longer possible. If she truly knew him now, she'd be shocked and disappointed.
He shook his head in reply to her question. “What did you do this afternoon, Aunt?"
"I called upon Miss Palmer.” Aunt Livy's face clouded.
Cole glanced at her, pleased at the unexpected opportunity. He'd been tempted to ply her for information, but he knew the moment he brought up any girl, Aunt Livy would never quit until she saw him happily wed to the poor chit. Now he could satisfy his curiosity without Aunt Livy being aware of his interest.
With the correct amount of polite boredom, he asked. “Have a pleasant visit?"
"Their situation is most desperate. Some of their servants have had to take other posts. She seemed subdued today. Perhaps her grief still weighs upon her."
"You mentioned her parents died recently?"
Aunt Livy leaned in as if to divulge a great secret, and Cole suppressed a smile. Even if the servants hovered nearby, he doubted she knew something they didn't; servants had their own web of gossip. Often, if he needed information, his valet, Stephens, knew all Cole required.
"They were in a carriage accident. Only the girl survived. Even the coachman perished."
"All in a single accident?"
"Tragic, isn't it?"
"Odd."
"Their youngest daughter, Hannah, had remained home due to an illness, so she was spared the accident, thankfully. I called upon Alicia Palmer once she had mended enough from her injuries to receive visitors, but she was so wrapped up in her own grief that I failed to provide any consolation. I believe she blames herself for surviving the accident that claimed her parents."
Cole nodded pensively as a kinship for the young lady awakened. It prodded an uncharacteristic surge of protectiveness. Strange, he couldn't seem to rid himself of that annoying flaw with regard to that girl.
But at least now he knew how Armand had died. He paused. Armand had been in the carriage accident, had he not? Aunt Livy had not mentioned his name.
He opened his mouth to ask about Armand's death, but Aunt Livy cut in. “Would you care to spend more time with the very available Miss Palmer, Cole?"
Cole frowned and almost waved farewell to the opportunity to learn more. “I humored you the other night at the ball. Give me a reprieve, Aunt."
She snorted in a decidedly un-ladylike manner and grinned. Finally. “Since when do I take advice from you? Perhaps if you weren't so wicked, I'd stop pestering you."
Wicked? If she only knew half of his sins. “Perhaps if you'd stop pestering me, I'd stop being so wicked."
She patted his hand. “Yes, yes, and if I didn't care, I wouldn't pester."
"Then I shall endeavor to remove myself from your good graces."
"Cole.” A rare look of tenderness crept into her eye and she banished the momentary lightheartedness. “You survived the war. Does marriage seem that much more terrifying?"
"Any sane bachelor would answer with an emphatic ‘yes’ to that question."
She chuckled. “Your brother Grant and I had a similar discussion last Season. It will be even more difficult to find him a wife than you."
"Impossible.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “I will marry someday, Aunt, if only to put an end to your meddling."
His attempt to draw her back into their comfortable banter failed, and worse, her voice
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