Page 31 of A Lyon’s Lesson

“Hm. Must have been a shock. State of the house I mean. Thank you,” Berrisford took the glass proffered by the butler and offered a toast, “To the King!” Rick and Cecelia offered their glasses in silent toast, and they all drank. “Where was I? Ah, the house! Heard your steward absconded as soon as he got word you were coming. Well, that was a surprise to nobody. Always thought it was odd that Monk never came next or nigh the place. No disrespect to your uncle, Lady Kenrick, but an absent landlord gets what he deserves. I have excellent servants. Wouldn’t tolerate anything else. But if I weren’t here to keep an eye on them, well, human nature is what is, eh?”

Half an hour later, dinner was announced, and Berrisford rose to led the way to the dining room, which involved leaving the parlor and crossing the hall. He said, “I expect my cousin will be joining us.” The dining room doors were open, and he ushered his guests to the table, which indeed was laid for four. “You may know him, in fact,” he said as Cecey took her seat.

Rick was about to take the one beside her when a familiar voice from the doorway made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Indeed, we do know each other. Lord Kenrick, Lady Kenrick, delighted to see you again.” Lord Bidenden bowed to them and with perfect sangfroid took the seat opposite Cecey.

“Splendid!” said their host, taking his own seat beside Bidenden and completely oblivious to the sudden tension in the room. Rick glanced at Cecey who had gone pale and clutched her napkin in taut fingers.

His protective instincts bristled, and if Berrisford hadn’t been present, he would have swept her out of the room and taken her home immediately. But he was present, and Rick was reluctant to cause a scandal that would be all over the village, if not the county, in hours, by walking out. Thus, he bowed curtly to Bidenden, and said, “I trust you have recovered, my lord. You suffered a slight injury the last time we met.”

Bidenden smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Your memory is in error, Layne, that was the time before, and yes, I am fully recovered, thank you.”

Rick sat and shook out his napkin with a snap as Bidenden unrolled his. Silence reigned while the servants laid out dishes, proffered wine, and then left the room.

Bidenden offered a toast, “To the bride,” which made Cecey look down at her plate and made Rick want to punch him. Instead, he swallowed his ire, raised his glass to Cecey and said quietly, “To my gracious wife.”

Cecey looked up, startled, and gave him such a smile of gratitude, his heart lifted.

Rick drank, set down his glass, and took up his cutlery to tackle the first course of what looked like an excellent dinner. A pity his appetite had fled the moment Bidenden entered the room. But he was damned if he’d let it show. He cut into a succulent piece of snapper and addressed Berrisford. “Bidenden and I were at Eton together, so we have certainly been acquainted for a long time.”

“Ah yes, you are of an age, are you not? Now tell me, has your brother managed to grow that tiger lily the Prince Regent gave your father back in—must have been ‘15, I think. I remember reading about it in The Times. Kew Gardens began successfully propagating the Asian lily in 1811 and His Royal Highness made a present of some bulbs to your father for some trifling service.”

“I’ve no idea,” said Rick blankly, to whom all this was news.

“I’m keen to get my hands on some bulbs,” said Berrisford shoveling up a forkful of peas.

“I can ask him,” offered Rick.

“Splendid! Splendid! I’d be most obliged.” Berrisford beamed at him.

“Lady Kenrick, how are you settling into your new home?” asked Bidenden.

“Very well, thank you, “ said Cecey with a composure that made Rick proud of her. She sipped her wine and smiled at their host. “Do you grow roses, Mr. Berrisford? I would like to plant a rose garden. Have you any recommendations?”

“My dear Lady Kenrick, I should be delighted to advise you. In fact, I can give you some cuttings if you would care to visit my greenhouse after dinner?”

“That would be wonderful,” she said.

The rest of the dinner conversation devolved to a discussion of the King’s attempts to exclude Caroline from becoming Queen consort, Berrisford being of the opinion that the Queen’s blatant affairs made her ineligible to wear the crown and Cecey hotly defending her against the King’s own scandalous behavior. Rick and Bidenden did not participate in most of this discussion, spending the majority of their time surreptitiously glaring at each other.

Berrisford took Cecey’s defense of the Queen in good part, and when the dessert had been served and everyone seemed to have had their fill, he offered to give Cecelia a tour of his greenhouse. Cecey seemed only too willing to go with him, and Rick, who was itching to have a word with Bidenden, let her go with only a mild qualm.

Thus it was that Rick and Bidenden were left alone with the port bottle in the dining room. As the door shut on the servants, Rick leaned across the table and said, “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Ruralizing,” came the reply, as Bidenden filled his glass. “You may recall I lost everything that night. To you. I haven’t a feather to fly with. Algie was good enough to offer me somewhere to stay. He might be a shade eccentric, but he is a good-hearted chap and generous to boot.”

“Well, I’ll thank you to keep your distance from my wife!”

Bidenden shrugged and sipped his port. “I think you’re suffering from a misapprehension, old chap. Your lady wife encouraged my attentions that night. She only screamed when she thought we were about to be discovered by another party. As it turned out, they didn’t discover us—you did and jumped to conclusions.”

Rick curled his lip. “You’re such a liar. That is not what happened.”

“How do you know? Because she told you I attacked her? Cecelia is flirt; she always was. I admit I got a bit carried away, but it wasn’t for lack of encouragement!”

“I don’t believe you,” responded Rick. “I remember what you did last year. And if I recall, you even had a touch at Pendrell’s wife. You were so desperate for an heiress you would even chase a married one. What did you hope to gain there?”

“The marriage hadn’t been consummated. It could have been annulled. Her mother favored me.”