Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

“ S ince when do you dance with Barbara?” Morgan teased Ambrose as he approached them.

Ambrose threw him a look, saying nothing as he accepted the tumbler of whiskey from Ezra.

“He is jealous,” Ezra replied in his usual dull tone, keeping his eyes focused sharply on the young ladies before him.

Ambrose nearly choked on his whiskey as Morgan shot back with “Bloody right I am, I’ve been trying to impress that bird since I met her.”

With Barbara being Alice’s best friend, and Alice being the wife of their dear friend Duncan, they had all gotten to know both Barbara and Lydia quite well—especially when Duncan nearly destroyed his happiness and took Alice’s along with it. The two women had rallied fiercely around their sister and best friend as Ambrose, Ezra, and Morgan had rallied around Duncan, and the friends had all come together to save the couple from utter heartbreak and unhappiness.

Jests had been made more than once about the two spinsters and who they would pair well with. Morgan had quickly laid an imaginary claim on Barbara, stating that her humor and grit were just like his own. Ambrose had just rolled his eyes and groaned when his friends then declared that Lydia would be the perfect match for him.

“She is the female version of you, Ambrose,” Morgan had snorted during one particular conversation. “In fact, I am not sure who is the more perfect portrait of poise, you or her.”

“You and Barbara would destroy one another in a month, and Ambrose and Lydia would bore one another to tears,” Ezra had interjected, shrugging carelessly. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Until she discovers your manners and charm are simply a ruse to disguise your… little side business.”

Ambrose had bristled at this but said nothing.

“True,” Morgan had relented, a devilish grin on his face as he focused more on what Ezra said of him than Ambrose. “But it would also be the most thrilling adventure of my life, I am sure of it.”

“Helena has informed me that Barbara has begun to consider taking on a husband,” Ambrose said presently, putting a spin on the truth. “Seeing as she has treated these last few summer seasons poorly, Helena had requested I help by asking her to dance to stir some interest.”

He pointed his glass toward the dance floor, where Barbara had just started to dance with Lord Violetti.

“As you can see, it worked.”

“Barbara wants to marry,” Morgan said in awe, raising his eyes toward the woman they all now called a friend. “I truly never thought that day would come.” A foolish smile broke out on his face, and he stepped forward. “Well, lads, it looks like I’m finally going to get my chance,” he said sarcastically.

Ambrose hadn’t meant to grab his friend’s arm so quickly or harshly. In fact, he did not even realize he had done so at all until he felt the fabric of Morgan’s jacket under his palm and saw the questioning if not amused look in his eyes.

“Interesting,” Ezra murmured behind them.

“What’s this all about?” Morgan asked, smirking as he eyed Ambrose’s hand on his arm.

Ambrose loosened his grip immediately and forced an easy smile on his face. They were his best friends, yes, but he did not want them to know about the deal between him and Barbara. The humiliation it would cause her would destroy her if they joked about it with her, even accidentally, and he could not let that happen.

“Come now, Morgan, be honest. Aside from embarrassment and headaches, what could you offer her?” Ambrose asked, injecting as much sarcasm into his tone as possible despite it being a serious question.

Morgan immediately picked up on his friend’s mocking tone, and a lusty smile spread across his face as he shifted his gaze to Barbara once more. “I could think of quite a few things, actually,” he murmured, his eyes alight.

Ambrose drew in a breath through his nostrils as he silently grappled with his sudden anger. Anger at himself for being a part of Barbara’s new life choice, anger at her father for taking advantage of her, and anger at his friend for speaking so coarsely about her. Morgan had no idea the damage he could do if he tried to throw his hat into the ring for Barbara’s hand—didn’t know how much weight was levied on her finding just the right husband.

Morgan could settle her debt. Ambrose knew his friend had the financial means. But there was so much more a woman like Barbara needed. Needs someone like Morgan could never fulfill, no matter how witty he was. She could be as sarcastic and witty as any man, yes, but she needed someone with far more depth than Morgan.

“What are you three prattling on about?” Helena asked, approaching them from behind.

Ambrose stiffened as he and his friends turned to find Helena and Lydia standing behind them, both women gazing at them with raised eyebrows as if they knew exactly what the three men had been talking about.

“Barbara’s impending marriage,” Morgan replied honestly with a grin, then bowed graciously to the two of them. “Your brother was just scolding me for trying to land my bid.”

Though Ambrose was not in the business of letting his little sister fight his battles for him, he felt greatly relieved as he watched Helena’s face scrunch up and her right pointer finger rise toward Morgan like it held a curse.

“You leave that woman be, Morgan Greene, or else I will tell every lady I know how you slept with a doll until you were ten,” she threatened, her eyes glittering with wrath.

Ezra snorted, trying to suppress his laughter, and turned away, while Morgan blanched, and Ambrose beamed with pride at the little girl he’d raised on his own.

“Ambrose, control your sister,” Morgan urged, stepping behind his friend as if he were scared of the small lady. “She’s downright frightening when she behaves like this.”

“Sorry, old boy,” Ambrose drawled, sharing an approving smile with his little sister. “You are on your own with this one.”

With the other four now bantering animatedly, none of them noticed that Ambrose’s smile and chuckle slowly faded as he watched Barbara leave the dance floor. She had been practically glowing with happiness as she began to make her way toward them, but he caught the way her body stiffened, and her brow furrowed as a man approached her.

Suddenly forgetting about his friends, Ambrose quietly stepped away from them to keep an eye on her.

“Uncle,” Barbara blurted out, completely caught off guard by his presence.

She had had a lovely time on the dance floor with Lords Dashwood and Violetti, and had been most excited to report back to Helena and Lydia when she heard her uncle call her name.

“My, how lovely you looked out there!” Reuben praised as he pulled her in to kiss her cheeks.

“Um, thank you,” she replied awkwardly as he began to lead her away. “Uncle, I do not mean to be rude, but what are you doing here? I thought your business in London had concluded weeks ago.”

“That is why an earl often has a house in his lands and another in London, girl,” Reuben replied, a bit of an edge to his tone. “Traveling in this position is a requirement. It would be of great help if your father would at least handle business here for me like he used to, but that stopped about a month ago.”

It stopped because I stopped.

Barbara bit her tongue to keep the remark inside.

“Before that, I only needed to come to London once in a great while. Now, though, I am here as much as I am in Mauntell,” Reuben explained.

Barbara caught the exhaustion in his voice and felt a sliver of guilt rip through her for her coldness.

“That seems most troublesome, Uncle,” she said to him. “I am sorry I cannot help more.”

At that, Reuben scoffed, stopped, and turned to look down at her with a sweet, condescending smile. “What can you do, my darling?” he asked in a placating voice. “You are just a woman.”

This time, as Barbara bit her tongue, she did so forcefully that she felt a pop followed by warmth. She held on to the pain like it was a lifeline and was grateful when Reuben started talking again.

“As for why I am at this party,” he went on, “it is because the host is a business associate. However, I am done with explaining my presence, and I am ready to discuss yours.”

Barbara quickly looked up at him, her brow furrowing. “I often attend parties with my friends, Uncle,” she replied stiffly.

“Friends,” Reuben ground out, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. “Yes, I noticed your friends. Particularly the one you danced with. Twice, I might add.”

“He was helping me remember the steps, Uncle,” she retorted dryly, not appreciating the insinuation in his voice.

They had walked a good length away from where the other partygoers had gathered, her uncle cloistering her away for privacy. She threw a glance toward her friends, almost willing them to notice her absence, but they were too busy laughing with one another. Ambrose, she noted, had disappeared, but her uncle had said her name before she could look for where he’d gone.

“What is it you want of me, Uncle?” Barbara asked in her usual blunt tone. “You said just a short time ago how I should find a husband, and now that you see me entertaining the idea, you are against it.”

Reuben’s kind eyes dulled as his smile turned into a thin, grim line. “Your father has been careless with your education on propriety and manners, and I have tried to overlook that, as he is raising you alone,” he said bitingly. “But you will watch how you speak to me, especially since I am the only man here who has your best interests at heart.”

Barbara opened her mouth to retort, but Reuben pressed on, taking a step toward her so that he now towered above her almost threateningly.

“I am here to warn you, girl, to stay away from the Duke of Larsen.”

Barbara’s eyes widened as a chill went down her spine. Ambrose? What did her uncle know? Her temper cooled quickly, and she visibly softened her features and stance to make her uncle believe she was scared and suddenly willing to listen to him.

As she had expected, the ploy worked like a charm, and her uncle’s harsh scowl transformed into a pitying smile.

“You are far too delicate to hear of his sins, dearest,” he said softly, stroking a finger across her left cheek.

Disgust roiled in Barbara’s gut as he spoke to and coddled her as if she were a babe, but she buried it deep inside herself and willed her body to stay still.

“Just be a good girl and stay away from him. I see you are friends with his little sister. That is fine. But under no circumstances are you to speak to him again. Am I understood?”

“Speak to whom again?”

Barbara felt tension fill the air as she and Reuben turned to look at the man in question. Ambrose was standing just a few paces away in his usual laidback but aristocratic stance, his chiseled lips curling into a smirk as he casually slipped his hands into his trouser pockets. Annoyance and relief fought tooth and nail against one another inside of her as she saw his handsome, arrogant features focused solely on her. His deep blue eyes, so full of confidence, also glimmered with challenge.

“This conversation is none of your business,” Reuben stated, his gruff voice deepening as he turned fully toward him.

Ambrose opened his arms, smiling wide. “You said my name, Lord Reuben. I believe that makes this conversation my business. As does your interaction with this young lady, seeing as she is under my guardianship today.”

“Am—” Barbara froze, horrified that she had almost just called him by his first name in front of her uncle.

She stole a glance at Reuben’s face, wondering if he’d heard her, but it was clear that he was still fixated on Ambrose’s bold declaration.

“You are no such thing,” Reuben ground out, distaste clear in his voice. “I am her uncle, her family, and if anyone here will watch over her, it is me. ”

“Lady Barbara has been under my watch since she befriended my little sister Helena many years ago, and since then, I have not seen you ever escort her anywhere, Lord Reuben.”

Ambrose’s words were sharp and quick but spoken in a low voice.

Startled and confused by the conviction in his voice, Barbara finally kicked herself into action and stood between the two scowling men. She could not continue to allow this to happen. Even though they were both speaking in low voices, their body language was growing more and more hostile, and it was only a matter of time before others started to notice.

“Your Grace, I thank you for watching over me today and for the dance lesson,” Barbara said quickly, her green eyes meeting his blue ones with a pleading look. “But my uncle is right. He is my family and the proper guardian I need. Please, tell the others I apologize for leaving early, but I believe we must take our leave.”

Ambrose’s eyes widened and narrowed as his jaw tightened, revealing his annoyance for the first time. His nostrils flared, his brow twitched, then his lips curled into a cold, almost hateful smile as he turned sideways and executed a bow toward the garden entrance.

“I have clearly mistaken my duties,” Ambrose said, the bite clear in his tone. “I shall no longer stand in your way.”

Barbara felt a startlingly strong urge to call after him as he strode confidently and calmly away, but she pressed her wounded tongue to the roof of her mouth as a reminder to stay silent. It was clear that she had just infuriated him. Normally, she would be quite proud of that, but for some reason right now, all she wanted to do was go after him and apologize.

“You spoke well, my dear,” Reuben praised her. “He needed to hear that from you as well as me. Men like that often get the wrong idea.”

Barbara forced her gaze away from Ambrose’s rigid, retreating back, and managed to pry her lips into a semblance of a smile as she turned back to her uncle.

“Yes,” she forced herself to say, “it was good you were here.”

“You do not need that man’s help,” Reuben said, his eyes flashing again.

He then smiled at her pleasantly, took hold of her arm, and started guiding her toward the carriages.

“Now come along,” he urged. “I shall take you home, and we shall discuss the gentleman I have found for you.”

Barbara’s steps faltered, but her uncle’s tight grip on her arm thankfully kept her upright.

“Pardon me, Uncle?” she asked, grimacing at the thought of Reuben playing matchmaker.

“I know you and I have not always seen eye to eye on matters, dear niece,” he sighed, helping her up into his carriage. “But the truth is, I do pay attention. And when I received word that you were finally looking for a husband, I was also told of a gentleman who has a great interest in you.”

“What?” Barbara asked, her eyebrows flying up in total surprise.

She had thought that her uncle would try to shove some uninterested but good-for-business nobleman toward her, but a man had approached him?

“Who? How? Why?”

Reuben smiled knowingly at her, clearly pleased at her excitement. “His name is Edward Sempill,” he explained proudly. “He is the Baron Kirkland, and he will be joining us for tea tomorrow.”