The carriage trundled along to Rothwilde’s estate. Vivian noticed the vibrancy of her skin. She’d been so much thinner on her first trip into the countryside.
She glanced at her father and her mother beside him, both with backs straight, lips in a line, arms crossed. Both wore grim expressions as they alternated between observing her and sharing stern glances.
She supposed even the horses were irritated because the driver kept shouting to them.
When the vehicle stopped at Rothwilde’s house, Vivian looked at the dark entrance. ‘I’m not going to marry him.’
‘I understand,’ her mother said. ‘It’s unseemly for us to be out here chasing after him. If he can’t come to you...’
‘We are not chasing after him.’ Darius scowled. ‘We were invited. By his father. The man was apologetic, and far more understanding than I expected. He said his son isn’t even here at the moment. That he is alone here and would like visitors. He suggested we become better acquainted.’
‘Did he suggest a chance for your daughter to become a countess some day?’ her mother asked.
‘Nothing wrong with that,’ he said, descending the steps and turning to help his wife. ‘As long as Vivian’s future husband, whoever he may be, never has to take a long carriage ride with the two of you, I would think it might be a satisfactory marriage.’
Her mother pulled her pelisse closer with a twist of the wrist, causing it to billow out. ‘I suppose it would also depend on whether she has to put up with him criticising everything she does.’
As her father mumbled a retort, her mother reassured herself by inspecting Vivian. ‘Are you sure you are feeling well?’
Vivian nodded, staring at the windows and the trees surrounding the house. Their limbs stretched like arms warding off visitors. It was no more welcoming than the first time she’d seen it.
‘Cheery place,’ her mother commented. ‘I’m sure it’s nicer inside.’
‘Come along.’ Her father reached for her mother’s arm.
They walked into the entrance hall. Rothwilde greeted them. ‘Sadly, my son isn’t here.’ His face belied his words. ‘But who knows if he may arrive later or not?’
He guided them to the drawing room.
Again, Vivian studied the portrait of the Countess of Rothwilde. The portrait dominated the room. But Vivian felt uneasy when she observed it, saddened by the knowledge someone would deface a work of art and that the woman had had a short life, and an uneasy marriage.
Rothwilde walked into the room and observed the portrait as if he’d never seen it before. ‘My late wife. Painted before we married. It would have been hard to miss her,’ Rothwilde admitted. ‘The painting doesn’t do her justice.’
The housekeeper appeared in the doorway, scowling. Vivian wondered if she’d decorated the house. Her clothes matched it.
‘Would you like refreshments?’ she asked.
Rothwilde flinched, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have, but then he shrugged. ‘Yes.’
After they were seated, Vivian could tell that Rothwilde and her father talked as if they were going to become family members. Her mother said almost nothing.
Then Rothwilde offered to show them the new carriage house he was having built and her mother forced a smile.
* * *
They were all examining timbers when the sound of another arrival reached their ears.
‘Probably my son,’ Rothwilde said, offhandedly to Darius. ‘He might be in a foul mood. I wrote him that the expenses on the carriage house were running much higher than expected. I also told him another structure on the estate would be needed so I could have more visitors and the wagers would come to me. My own private gambling hell. I hoped his architect friends could be of assistance.’
He spoke to Vivian and her mother. ‘Let’s go inside and see how he is faring.’
* * *
Everleigh walked into the house, reached for the top button on his coat and slipped the fastenings open.
His father was punishing him in the only way available to him, or so he believed. The man would try to beggar Everleigh. Well, it would not happen. He would make certain of that.
The grey mouse of a housekeeper stepped into the room. His father’s mistress.
‘I’ll take your coat,’ she said.
He slipped the garment from his shoulders, not acknowledging her by name.
‘Rothwilde has visitors.’
His movements froze, his hand still grasping the wool. His father rarely entertained. ‘Who?’
‘The Baron, his wife...’
Everleigh waited.
‘And their daughter.’ She took the coat. ‘I thought you should know.’
* * *
He paced into the drawing room. Plans for the carriage house were sprawled across the sofa. His jaw tensed. Apparently Rothwilde had been showing them to Darius. He lifted the papers, shuffling through them. Nothing had changed. No scribbles on the side, or mention of any other structure.
Everleigh lifted the pages and rolled them into place, the paper rustling as he twisted it into a roll. He propped them in the corner.
His father had sent him an invitation that he’d known Everleigh could not refuse. He’d walked into it as easily as he might have walked into a spider’s web on a dark night. His father was the only person who could gauge Everleigh so easily.
Voices alerted him.
‘Rothwilde,’ Everleigh greeted his father.
‘Son.’ He moved out of the way, leaning on his cane. ‘How pleasant that you’ve arrived just when we have visitors.’
‘How fortunate, indeed.’ Everleigh watched as Darius walked into the room, followed by Lady Darius and, lastly, Vivian.
Anger at his father drained from his body. Anger at himself replaced it. He shouldn’t be so happy to see Vivian.
Then she glanced at him and that anger faded as well. He’d been surrounded by machinations his whole life. One more wouldn’t hurt. He would take care around Vivian. She had little choice in the matter, he was certain.
Besides, her cheeks were flushed with radiance and seeing her eased the irritations of his day.
But it wouldn’t do to let the others be aware that he was pleased. He scowled at his father, who appeared oblivious to anything but the goodwill he and Darius shared.
So be it. He didn’t want to make Vivian uncomfortable. ‘It’s always pleasant when Father invites guests to the estate.’ That would mostly leave the last decade—all the years since his mother had died—out of the equation, but only he and his father knew that.
His father gripped the cane. ‘I agree.’
Everleigh saw three expectant expressions and one tense one. He wanted to reassure her. ‘I hope the carriage trip to the estate was less eventful than the previous journey.’
‘Much,’ she admitted.
Her father let out a deep sigh. ‘I have to be thankful that Alexandria was not more daft than she was.’
‘We all do,’ Lady Darius said. ‘What’s important—really important—is that neither of our children was injured. My daughter is healthy and your son wasn’t hurt.’
‘True,’ Rothwilde said. He thumped his son on the back. ‘I’d not really thought of it that way before. My son seems invincible to me. I’d be lost without him.’
Everleigh stared at his father and tried to read beyond the façade. He wasn’t sure this statement wasn’t on the same level as putting in a gaming house, because his father had never said such a preposterous thing before.
The actual comments had run closer to suggesting Everleigh stay in London and they wouldn’t ever have to speak again, and were peppered with oaths. Even the letters had to be burned on occasion as he’d not wanted anyone else to read what his father had written to him.
The maid arrived with tea. The ladies’ dresses fluttered while everyone rearranged themselves to allow the servant enough space to enter.
The distraction gave Everleigh and Rothwilde a chance to speak.
‘Truce,’ his father muttered from the side of his mouth to Everleigh.
‘Agreed,’ Everleigh responded, teeth together.
‘Cards.’ His father brightened, raising his voice. ‘Wouldn’t a game of cards be an enjoyable way to spend the evening?’
* * *
The evening was as convivial as one could hope for. In fact, it had been years since he’d seen his father so at ease on the estate. His father was on his best behaviour and he suspected Vivian’s father was the same.
Then he realised Vivian and her mother contributed only an audience to the conversation.
He stepped away from the group as a servant glided in with more refreshments and a tray of macarons.
As the maid moved from blocking his view of Vivian, he saw the glance between her and her mother. A second conversation was going on in his presence and he’d been totally unaware of it.
Joining the group again, he paid less attention to what was being said, than what wasn’t being said.
Rothwilde and her father were indeed getting on well. In fact, better than he would have expected.
‘Wait until you hear this...’ Rothwilde shook his head, speaking to Darius. ‘The cook had befriended a cat without my knowledge and it escaped into the main rooms. I sat on it and that infernal beast attached itself to me using all its claws and teeth. I was ready to send the cook packing, but I could not lose out on these macarons.’
Vivian and her mother were smiling at the right places, commenting pleasantly and enjoying their tea.
When the conversation slowed, Everleigh spoke to Vivian and her mother. ‘I wish we had music tonight. The local blacksmith is an accomplished musician. He carries his flute with him more than he does his hammer. I’ll send someone to see if he and his wife might slip away for a few moments. She has a beautiful voice and they often have a few songs prepared for events.’
‘That isn’t necessary.’ Vivian’s words brushed the idea away, but he saw the interest in her.
‘You should not go to any trouble,’ Darius added. ‘Your father has been showing us around the estate and I must say we’re impressed. He says all the recent renovations have been at your suggestion.’
‘True. Did he mention a gaming house he has planned?’
Lord Darius shuffled his feet. ‘No. He didn’t.’
‘Just in the planning stages,’ Rothwilde inserted. ‘The more I think about it, the less enthusiasm I have for it.’ Rothwilde took a drink from his wineglass and spoke to Everleigh first, then directed his conversation to include the others. ‘Now that I consider it closer, I’m discarding it. It would take away from the carriage house.’
Darius nodded. ‘You do have a fine estate, Rothwilde. We’ll take you up on your offer to see more of it tomorrow.’
‘That would be wonderful,’ Vivian’s mother said, a ton-worthy smile on her lips. ‘Of course, if the weather isn’t too cool for Vivian.’
Everleigh knew then that neither woman cared about walking around the fields or seeing the size of the grounds.
Lady Darius patted her daughter’s arm. ‘I don’t think I’m up to such an adventure. We might enjoy the indoors.’