Chapter Four

Niles had sat through his share of awkward meals, but supper that night topped them all. Miss Seymour hardly said anything. Her brother said far too much.

Between the first remove and Digby's declaration that the gentlemen would forgo their after-supper port, Mr. Seymour spoke of his family estate and his education at Shrewsbury, which accounted for his lack of an Irish accent. He further spoke of Dublin, any number of people only he and his sister knew, their unpleasant voyage across the Irish Sea, their equally unpleasant journey from Cornwall to Yorkshire, and a great many stories about their family's interactions in Dublin society. Through it all, Digby did an excellent job of appearing unwaveringly interested. Miss Seymour didn't entirely hide her embarrassment at her brother's lack of awareness. Niles mostly wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

But no obliging holes appeared, and he found himself seated among the Seymour siblings and Digby in the drawing room, where the same dynamic repeated itself.

In the midst of one of her brother's long recountings of a social gathering in Dublin, Miss Seymour spoke in quieter tones to Niles, he being seated nearest her. "My brother didn't talk nearly this much in Cornwall. He doesn't, generally, unless he's trying to impress someone."

As Digby was the one to whom most of Mr. Seymour's comments were directed, it wasn't difficult to determine who it was the man wished to impress.

Miss Seymour turned a bit in her chair, enough to face him more directly. She had the brownest eyes, deep and rich and... filled with suspicion.

Still speaking quietly, she asked, "Have you actually been ill?" Her tone and expression told him she sincerely doubted it.

"I—There has—" He'd realized there was a great likelihood he would eventually have to confess to the exaggeration, but he'd not expected it to happen so soon or so directly.

"You needn't fear you'll offend me if your answer is no." A smile lurked in those umber eyes. A smile? That was certainly unexpected. "You'd not be the first gentleman to invent creative ways of avoiding me."

"I doubt that," he muttered. He couldn't keep his eyes off her; he suspected the men in Ireland couldn't either.

"Is—"

Before Miss Seymour could say anything more, the butler stepped into the drawing room. "More visitors, Mr. Layton," the butler said.

"Show them in," Digby said as he rose.

Niles stood as well. Doing so gave him a distraction from Miss Seymour and her questions. And her beguiling eyes.

The butler moved back to the doorway and, after a quick nod to whomever was in the entryway, announced to the room, "Lord Jonquil and Mr. and Mrs. Barrington."

Digby had predicted a Gent might arrive. In all honesty, two at once wasn't very surprising. The Gents often traveled in packs.

Lucas bounced into the room first. "Look who I found wandering the Yorkshire roads." He motioned to Kes and Violet.

What would Miss Seymour think of the extremely informal arrival? A quick glance revealed the same studying gaze he'd received from her earlier that day but this time directed at Lucas. She appeared to be very astute. He didn't imagine there was much she missed.

A subtle elbow from Kes to Lucas's side brought a little more decorum. All three of the new arrivals seemed to have quite suddenly taken note of the unexpected additions to the party.

Digby, dignified and gracefully proper, moved to where his newest guests stood. "Allow me to undertake some introductions. Mr. and Miss Seymour, this is Lord Jonquil"—he indicated Lucas—"and Mr. and Mrs. Barrington." He motioned to Kes and Violet in turn. "Friends," he addressed the three, "this is Mr. and Miss Seymour of County Wicklow in Ireland."

Bows and curtsies were exchanged along with words of pleasure at making one another's acquaintance. Niles received so many furtive glances that any discretion his friends might have been trying to employ was lost entirely.

Digby had said he'd written to the Gents, informing them of at least some of Niles's predicament. If he'd mentioned Miss Seymour by name, or had at least mentioned that the match chosen for Niles had been an Irishwoman, this introduction would feel very significant to them.

Kes, despite being known among them as Grumpy Uncle, could be counted on to be circumspect. Lucas, who had fully earned his moniker of the Jester, on the other hand...

Violet proved the most immediately helpful. She crossed directly to Miss Seymour. "What a pleasure it is to find another lady present. How long have you been at Pledwick Manor?"

The two ladies sat on the sofa and engaged in what Niles hoped was a perfectly unexceptional conversation. Digby asked Mr. Seymour to excuse him a moment, then he pulled the rest of them aside.

"We received your letter," Kes explained. "Since we're the closest, we thought we'd best make the journey."

Digby looked to Lucas. "You were in Nottinghamshire."

He nodded. "And still arrived ahead of Kes."

"By thirty seconds," Kes countered.

Digby held up a hand to stop the pretended argument. To Lucas, he said, "With you so recently a father again, I can't imagine Julia is overly pleased with your departure."

Word had arrived about six weeks earlier of the newest member of Lucas's growing family, a son who'd been named for Digby and Henri.

Lucas reached into his pocket and produced a folded bit of parchment, which he handed to Digby with an almost smug look.

Digby unfolded it. Niles and Kes flanked him and read silently over his shoulder.

My dear Gents,

I am absolutely certain you are convinced that Lucas has made a horrific miscalculation and has abandoned his recently-delivered-of-a-son wife without giving sufficient thought to the decision. I insisted he make the journey. Niles is too dear to us to ignore his current difficulty. While I cannot make the journey with Lucas, I am not truly abandoned. Both of our boys have two grandfathers and a grandmother here who are spoiling them unabashedly.

Niles, I do hope you can sort this out before it becomes a catastrophe.

The rest of you: behave!

Yours, etc.

Your Julia

"Well, that's us put in our place," Digby said with a smile.

Kes was back to the matter at hand almost immediately. "This Miss Seymour of Ireland is the same Miss Seymour of Ireland your family chose for you?"

Niles nodded.

"And you stayed here instead of returning to Cornwall in order to avoid the match?"

He nodded again.

"And she tracked you here like a hound at a foxhunt?" Lucas barely held back the laugh Niles could see in his eyes.

"Sniffed him out with deft precision," Digby said.

"Didn't know you were such a prized commodity." Kes offered the dry observation with as much indication of amusement as the others.

"And I'd wager you didn't know Miss Seymour was breathtaking," Lucas said.

Niles ran a hand through his hair. "And she's clever. She saw immediately through the scheme Digby and I concocted."

"She did?" Digby winced a little.

"Dare I ask what it was?" Kes rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

"We'll share the details later," Digby said. "For now, though, if the Seymours ask, you are welcome to tell them you made the journey because you'd heard Niles was sick."

"Oh criminy." Lucas chuckled.

"We didn't have Aldric here," Digby protested. "We had to improvise."

"I'd like to point out that we still don't have Aldric here." Niles released a tight breath. Aldric was the General among the Gents, and for good reason.

Aldric had only just been given the running of an estate and was finding his footing there. He was unlikely to make the journey to Yorkshire. For the time being, at least, this motley group was Niles's best hope.

Oh criminy , indeed.