possible. It would not do for him to tease Belinda.
“No older than George,” Chloe responded pointedly. “They were at Harrow together.”
Belinda did not reply but her eyes shifted. She still looked worried, as she had since the mention of Humphrey Macy. She could be worried about her future, though George had provided handsomely for her and her daughter in his will. Perhaps, thought Chloe, Belinda believed they would use Macy as a means of forcing her out of Delamere. Chloe couldn’t help experiencing a twinge of guilt because, in a way, that had been exactly her purpose. She did think, however, that providing Belinda with a good second marriage would be a kindly act.
“Would you object to Mr. Macy visiting, Aunt Belinda?” Justin asked.
Belinda hesitated, and that confirmed Chloe’s suspicions.
With noble motives, Chloe pleaded the gentleman’s case. “There is no hurry, of course, for you to make a second marriage, Belinda,” she said. “And when you are ready, I am sure there will be no shortage of gentlemen wanting to offer for your hand. But the interest of a man like Mr. Macy is very flattering. He comes from an old family and is an intimate of the Prince of Wales. You would move in the highest circles.”
In a betraying movement, Belinda’s fingers rose to touch the frill at the high neck of her black gown. Then her hand was returned to its place in her lap. “No,” she said at last, looking down and turning her wedding ring on her finger. “I wouldn’t object. He probably wants to look at Dorinda. I know George wanted him for godfather. Perhaps we should have the christening while he’s here.”
“That would be an excellent idea, Aunt,” said Justin.
Chloe noted with admiration the clever way Belinda had divested Macy’s visit of any amorous intent. Ah well, if Macy wasn’t to her taste, there would be others. But likely not so eminent.
“Do you know,” said Belinda, with a slightly flirtatious smile at Justin, “I think it would be better if you called me by my name. Aunt sounds monstrous strange.”
The minx does have designs on him, Chloe thought.
“On the contrary,” said Justin with an implacable smile, “it so neatly delineates our relationship, doesn’t it?”
Belinda flushed and Chloe felt rather sorry for her. Her country wiles were no match for men like Justin. She hoped the girl had learned her lesson.
Perhaps not, for she retorted rather pertly, “And what then are you to call Chloe?”
“Chloe, I think,” said Justin with a mischievous light in his eyes as he turned to her. “If that is acceptable, cousin?”
Faced with this confusion Chloe retorted, “You may call me whatever you wish.”
Justin grinned, a wide grin that took her straight back six years, to a time of recklessness and blood-stirring excitement. She felt her pulse speed.
“May I?” he said. “How kind.” He strolled toward her and placed a finger beneath her chin, the better to study her features. “Dulcinea, perhaps. Queen Mab? Gloriana? Brilliana? Did you know,” he added lightly as he released her, “that Brilliana, Lady Harley, was so called because she was born in Brill?”
Chloe laughed out loud, her head light as if with champagne. “How disenchanting. What if she had been born in Flushing?”
Randal hooted with mirth.
“Or Dieppe?” suggested Justin.
“Rome?” offered Chloe.
“Brest?” shot back the viscount, and Chloe was amazed to feel herself blush.
Randal, damn him, burst out laughing again and was joined by the Duchess, while Belinda looked shocked in a mildly bewildered kind of way. Chloe, struggling against laughter herself, sought the words to put Justin severely in his place. . . . But for heaven’s sake, this was his home. . . .
Fortunately, at that moment, dinner was announced and the small party, five ladies and two gentlemen, went in for the meal. Lord Stanforth took in the two older ladies, Lord Randal the two younger, and Miss Forbes trailed
“No older than George,” Chloe responded pointedly. “They were at Harrow together.”
Belinda did not reply but her eyes shifted. She still looked worried, as she had since the mention of Humphrey Macy. She could be worried about her future, though George had provided handsomely for her and her daughter in his will. Perhaps, thought Chloe, Belinda believed they would use Macy as a means of forcing her out of Delamere. Chloe couldn’t help experiencing a twinge of guilt because, in a way, that had been exactly her purpose. She did think, however, that providing Belinda with a good second marriage would be a kindly act.
“Would you object to Mr. Macy visiting, Aunt Belinda?” Justin asked.
Belinda hesitated, and that confirmed Chloe’s suspicions.
With noble motives, Chloe pleaded the gentleman’s case. “There is no hurry, of course, for you to make a second marriage, Belinda,” she said. “And when you are ready, I am sure there will be no shortage of gentlemen wanting to offer for your hand. But the interest of a man like Mr. Macy is very flattering. He comes from an old family and is an intimate of the Prince of Wales. You would move in the highest circles.”
In a betraying movement, Belinda’s fingers rose to touch the frill at the high neck of her black gown. Then her hand was returned to its place in her lap. “No,” she said at last, looking down and turning her wedding ring on her finger. “I wouldn’t object. He probably wants to look at Dorinda. I know George wanted him for godfather. Perhaps we should have the christening while he’s here.”
“That would be an excellent idea, Aunt,” said Justin.
Chloe noted with admiration the clever way Belinda had divested Macy’s visit of any amorous intent. Ah well, if Macy wasn’t to her taste, there would be others. But likely not so eminent.
“Do you know,” said Belinda, with a slightly flirtatious smile at Justin, “I think it would be better if you called me by my name. Aunt sounds monstrous strange.”
The minx does have designs on him, Chloe thought.
“On the contrary,” said Justin with an implacable smile, “it so neatly delineates our relationship, doesn’t it?”
Belinda flushed and Chloe felt rather sorry for her. Her country wiles were no match for men like Justin. She hoped the girl had learned her lesson.
Perhaps not, for she retorted rather pertly, “And what then are you to call Chloe?”
“Chloe, I think,” said Justin with a mischievous light in his eyes as he turned to her. “If that is acceptable, cousin?”
Faced with this confusion Chloe retorted, “You may call me whatever you wish.”
Justin grinned, a wide grin that took her straight back six years, to a time of recklessness and blood-stirring excitement. She felt her pulse speed.
“May I?” he said. “How kind.” He strolled toward her and placed a finger beneath her chin, the better to study her features. “Dulcinea, perhaps. Queen Mab? Gloriana? Brilliana? Did you know,” he added lightly as he released her, “that Brilliana, Lady Harley, was so called because she was born in Brill?”
Chloe laughed out loud, her head light as if with champagne. “How disenchanting. What if she had been born in Flushing?”
Randal hooted with mirth.
“Or Dieppe?” suggested Justin.
“Rome?” offered Chloe.
“Brest?” shot back the viscount, and Chloe was amazed to feel herself blush.
Randal, damn him, burst out laughing again and was joined by the Duchess, while Belinda looked shocked in a mildly bewildered kind of way. Chloe, struggling against laughter herself, sought the words to put Justin severely in his place. . . . But for heaven’s sake, this was his home. . . .
Fortunately, at that moment, dinner was announced and the small party, five ladies and two gentlemen, went in for the meal. Lord Stanforth took in the two older ladies, Lord Randal the two younger, and Miss Forbes trailed
Similar Books
