Page 14 of Managing the Major

“Yes, I spent the morning there. She seems to be more comfortable, poor dear. Although Denys and I have tried to reassure your sister, she is very apprehensive about giving birth again.”

“I’ve neglected her dreadfully. Tomorrow won’t do, unfortunately, because we have callers coming.”

“Your sister is expecting the doctor in the morning and may not feel up to a visit, but I plan on returning Saturday. Shall we go together?”

“That would be wonderful. Is a nap in order, Mama, or will you rally and accompany us to Madame Duchon’s? Fiona has promised us a drive in Kensington Gardens next week, and new bonnets are a necessity.”

“Yes, please come, Lady Amelia,” Genevieve said. “There is no one we’d rather trust in matters of fashion. Lord Evan retired to the country for the next few days to host a hunting party, so I am quite alone. Perhaps we could stay after our errand and have dinner at Clarendon’s?”

Lady Amelia’s animation quickly resurfaced. “I have heard La Duchon has a new shipment of ribbons from Paris, and some French food will be just the thing.”

Genevieve clapped her hands in delight. “Excellent.”

“Let me call for my bonnet and pelisse, and I shall be ready. Octavia, should I have Marie bring yours down? By the way, Fiona drove me to see your sister, and her new pair of horses certainly are eye-catching. I understand Richard sent them over from the farm in Ireland. Who are you expecting to call tomorrow?”

“Mrs. Nerissa Croyden and her daughter, Abigail. We met them last night at Almack’s, and they were charming,” she said casually. “Her brother is sponsoring the girl and may come as well.” If her mother knew she had invited an eligible gentleman, a barrage of questions would follow.

What was it about Major Fairfax? No suitor had ever shaken her resolve to stay single. Last night, he had invaded her most secret sensual thoughts, the ones that drove her to explore the places where desire pulsed through her body as she lay trying to sleep. What would it be like to kiss the faint cleft in his chin, or run her hands through the thick waves of golden hair on his head?

Deliciously, she imagined his blunt fingertips drifting across her bare breast, and—

“Octavia, did you hear me? Marie is waiting with your bonnet.” As her mother’s voice interrupted her thoughts, Octavia took a startled step and trod on Freya’s tail, who yelped loudly. Genevieve watched with a wicked smile, as if she guessed her thoughts.

Octavia gave her friend a quelling look and turned so Marie could place the chip bonnet over her curls. She would take Abigail Croyden under her wing and play matchmaker. Major Fairfax was merely a pleasant distraction. There was no need to lose her head.

As she fastened the velvet pelisse, the idea crossed her mind that she might be playing with fire, but such pessimism seldom won the day.

Chapter Seven

Major Fairfax Forms a Plan

Thursday had been a good day for Alastair. He began the morning at Angelo’s School of Arms, mingling with Rafe and some of his other regular partners. Although these days he practiced only the most basic movements, his right arm still wielded the rapier with some skill. Afterwards, his cousin suggested they go to Crockford’s for a late lunch and a bit of gambling.

Over a plate of smoked trout and potatoes au gratin, Rafe questioned him about his invitation to Merrick House.

“Perhaps I’m wrong in thinking you were rather unimpressed with Miss Merrick—although I don’t understand why that’s the case. She’s damned attractive, and a cracking rider.”

“I don’t deny either, but below the surface, most women of society are self-important and rather tedious. The majority are intent on trapping a man into marriage, or even worse—matchmaking mamas.”

“That’s not very flattering. Just because you’ve experienced disappointment in love, there’s no need to dishearten the rest of us. Besides, rumor has it Miss Merrick vows to remain unwed, although many suitors have tried to change her mind.”

“I’ll thank you not to bring up Lucy Danbridge. And since when did you know the latest gossip?”

Rafe shrugged, looking sheepish. “I might have asked around a bit at the Guard’s Club. I have a friend who knows Miss Merrick’s brother-in-law. Perhaps she is unmarried because, like you, she just hasn’t met the right person.”

Alastair froze. “You know why I refuse to marry.”

“And it’s a stupid reason. You get along fine with your walking stick, and Henry Angelo has told you many times that he has techniques to improve the movement in your left arm. You only have to visit the gymnasium and arrange a time with his trainer.”

“I have come to terms with my disabilities, and I don’t need offers of false hope.”

“What you don’t need is to be afraid of disappointment. It’s unlike you, Alastair, just as it’s unnatural for you to abstain from marriage. You love women, and you have too carnal a nature to be without one.”

He had to shut down this conversation immediately. The words stung like a whip, perhaps because they held some truth.

“And you won’t see my life for what it is now. God knows, Rafe, I wish it were different, but whatever I may have wanted before doesn’t matter in the least.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “My focus now is Nerissa and Abigail, and I’ll take what pleasure there is in friendships, but don’t preach to me of marriage. You aren’t good company when you harass me, even if we are cousins.”

Rafe looked troubled, but picked up his fork and knife without further argument.