Page 7 of Holly & Folly

She came over to him, her hands out in that dramatic way she had when there was company to be performed for.

Archie took them and placed a detached kiss upon one.

Mother smiled regally, then looked expectantly at the butler, Hurst.

He was whispering something to one of the footmen, however, and did not notice.

“Hurst,” she hissed through her smile.

The butler came over.

“His lordship has arrived,” she said significantly, still beaming at her guests.

Hurst cleared his throat.

Archie tried to intervene. “Hurst, it is not necessar⁠—”

“His lordship,” Hurst’s booming voice filled the hall, “the Earl of Dalmeer.”

Archie suppressed a sigh and smiled at the table of guests, taking quick note of familiar faces. His cousin, Freddie, sat near the opposite end of the table, where Freddie’s father, Lord Kentwood, had taken Archie’s usual place at the head. Freddie had all but begged Archie to come to the party when they had met in London recently.

“Perhaps you would like to change your clothing,” Mother suggested in an undervoice.

“Not at all,” Archie said amiably. “We do not stand upon ceremony here, do we, friends?” He grinned at the guests, his gaze pausing momentarily on the woman he had met in the corridor.

There was a murmur of agreement from the table, but Archie’s uncle, sitting at the head opposite Mother, stood.

“No, Uncle,” Archie said. “Do not trouble yourself. I am quite happy to take one of the empty seats.” He strode toward one near the middle of the table, much to Mother’s chagrin.

She wanted to flaunt him like a new gown, but Archie would not be flaunted.

There was a vacant seat to his left, while a pretty young woman called Miss Sterling sat on his right. She and Archie passed a good deal of time discussing the horses housed at Bellthorne.

Archie’s gaze, however, roved again and again across the table to the woman from the corridor. She was being engaged in conversation by a man Archie did not recognize—who continued to monopolize her for the duration of the meal. Once or twice, Archie noted a blush in her cheeks.

Archie made conversation with Miss Sterling whenever she was not in conversation with Mr. Hawthorne, but he was already regretting that he had come at all. Mother regarded him with far too much satisfaction anytime she saw him speaking with Miss Sterling.

If he was to be here, however, he may as well amuse himself.

Mother was accustomed to getting her way, and while his affection for her had been partially responsible for bringing him to Bellthorne, it would not stop him from ensuring she understood that his presence did not mean he meant to submit to her machinations—something she had yet to accept even after all these years.

When the women withdrew after dinner, Archie took the opportunity to sit next to Freddie.

“You came,” Freddie said.

“To save you. Devoted cousin, am I not?”

Freddie gave a little snort. “Your mother gave us your bedchamber, but I suppose we can vacate as a token of thanks.”

“Gave us? Have you taken to referring to yourself in the royal we?” Archie tipped his glass and threw back a gulp of brandy.

“Ha. No. I…am…uh…recently married.”

Archie nearly choked, and Freddie slapped him on the back, smiling to reassure everyone who looked over in concern.

Blinking furiously, Archie looked at his cousin. “You what?”

“We can discuss it later. The point is, I shall have our things moved.”