Chapter 14

14

T homas had to tether his thoughts and remain calm as he joined his mother for luncheon.

He drew in a breath and rose from the leather chair once more, determined not to allow his mother to know of his concern. She'd been through quite enough, and he was determined not to add to her trauma.

All eyes were on him as he exited the mansion and walked toward the lawn party.

"Goodness, my lord," Baroness Mumford greeted him. "I don't think any of us expected to see you today."

"I declined to join the hunt, my lady," Thomas said, tipping his hat. "I promised my mother I would join her for luncheon."

"What a pleasure for all of us," the baroness said. "It is so very good to see you this day."

"And you as well." Thomas bowed and headed toward his mother.

As he walked, his gaze focused like a magnet on Tricia, who was standing alone.

Lady Clementine and young Katrina were speaking to a group of ladies including his mother on the opposite side of the lawn.

Though he wanted to walk toward Tricia, speak to her, see how she was doing after her close brush with death the evening before, he forced his legs to continue pursuing his mother.

"Thomas, darling," the countess said. "I'm so glad you'll be able to join us for luncheon. The tables are set, and there's a place for you next to me. You're the only gentleman in attendance, of course, other than the young lads milling about."

"I'm quite comfortable being the only gentleman in attendance, Mummy." He brushed his lips against his mother's soft cheek. "Besides, you're wrong. I see the Marquess of Tingham with his wife."

The countess wrinkled her nose. "He's elderly, as you know, Thomas. Too old for the hunt."

"That matters not to me, Mummy. I had business to attend to this morning, and since I'm here, I may as well share luncheon with my lovely mother."

His mother smiled at him. "Thomas, darling, you know I want you to have a wonderful time during this house party. But I do appreciate your attentiveness."

Thomas offered his arm to his mother, and she placed her small left hand in his elbow as he led her to the tables.

The sun cast a warm glow over the meticulously groomed gardens, where rows of tables draped in white linens were set beneath the generous shade of the estate's oak trees. Each table was adorned with delicate china and sparkling crystal.

The centerpiece of each table was a magnificent floral arrangement of local blooms—blush peonies, cream roses, and lilac hydrangeas, interspersed with sprigs of greenery. Thomas was well aware, after this morning's events, how much these flora had cost the estate. Small handwritten place cards at each setting guided the guests to their seats.

As the clock struck noon, the ladies, dressed in their finest summer gowns with wide-brimmed hats adorned with ribbons and lace, began to take their seats. The air was filled with the soft rustling of silk and the gentle murmur of polite conversation as the dowager countess welcomed her guests with a gracious smile.

The luncheon commenced with a light starter of chilled cucumber soup served in delicate porcelain bowls, perfect for the warm weather. This was followed by an array of finger sandwiches—cucumber with cream cheese, smoked salmon with dill, and egg with watercress—each delicately trimmed of crusts and arranged like a mosaic on tiered silver platters.

The main course was an elegant ensemble of poached salmon adorned with slices of lemon and a sprinkling of capers, accompanied by tender green beans with toasted almonds, new potatoes in a light mustard vinaigrette, and a beetroot salad.

A decadent dessert brought the luncheon to a close—a selection of Victoria sponge cakes, lemon tarts, and scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam. Tea was poured from ornate silver teapots into fine bone china cups, with a choice of Earl Grey—the late earl's personal favorite, though Thomas detested it—ceylon, chamomile, or peppermint to suit the guests' tastes.

Once luncheon was over, the ladies began to disperse, most of them retiring to their rooms for repose before dinner and evening activities.

Thomas escorted his mother to her bedchamber, giving her a kiss on the cheek and wishing her well.

The men would not be back from the hunt for several hours, so he decided to pay a visit to the bachelor house where he assumed Polk and Jonathan would be.

After the leisurely stroll to the smaller house, he did indeed find both Polk and Jonathan enjoying a pipe outside on the veranda.

They seemed to be speaking seriously, no smiles on their faces, until Thomas approached.

Thomas bowed. "You lads look like you're up to no good."

"I say, Ashford," Polk said jovially. "Just enjoying a smoke. Please join us."

"Don't mind if I do." Thomas sat down in a chair so he was facing both his friend and his cousin, and he lit up his tobacco.

"Are you two finding enough to amuse yourselves today?" Thomas asked.

"You know me, Ashford," Polk said. "I can always find something to amuse myself."

"Usually in a local brothel," Thomas said dryly.

Polk raised an eyebrow. "Don't give me that. You're an earl now, of course, but even when you were a viscount, you didn't come up short on spending time there yourself."

His friend wasn't wrong. But those days had been over for Thomas for quite some time. Even before his father's passing, he had ceased going to brothels. He had considered taking a mistress, but ultimately decided that it would not be a fair use of the estate's coffers.

Besides, his father would definitely not have approved.

"Anyone catch your eye yet, Ashford?" Jonathan asked.

It still felt all wrong for Jonathan to call him Ashford. They'd last seen each other as lads, when they were simply Thomas and Jonathan. Tommy and Jonny for short, though he hadn't been called Tommy since he was a mere lad of ten.

"Who says I'm looking?" Thomas asked.

"You can't help but look," Polk said. "This new rash of lovelies is just too much not to look at."

"Especially that Lady Patricia," Polk said. "I haven't seen anyone as beautiful as she in a long time. I say, Ashford, she rivals your own sisters in beauty."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "I'll thank you not to talk of my sisters in that matter." He absently curled his left hand into a fist, but then the realization sunk in. As protective as he was of his sisters, Lily and Rose each had her own protector now. Their husbands were fully capable of protecting them.

No.

It was the comment about Tricia that had aroused anger in him.

"So you have your eye on Lady Patricia, Polk?" Thomas said, forcing his voice to remain calm.

"Polk and I both danced with her," Jonathan said before Polk could respond. "And she does feel wonderful in my arms. I can't deny that."

Thomas drew in a deep breath and took a long drag on his pipe.

Best to count to ten.

He savored the taste of the tobacco on his tongue and then blew the smoke into the air.

"She is a beautiful young lady," was all he said.

" Beautiful doesn't do her justice," Jonathan continued. "There's something about her that's almost…ethereal. Hair so dark it's nearly black, and those eyes…"

"I know very well what she looks like, Jonathan," Thomas said, barely keeping the acid out of his voice.

"Blimey, Ashford," Polk said, "no need to get testy."

"Who's testy?" Thomas took another drag on his pipe.

Jonathan rose. "The ladies' lawn party should be over by now. Perhaps I'll see if Lady Patricia and her mother are available for a stroll this afternoon."

"All the ladies have retired to their chambers for the afternoon," Thomas said, his body tensing.

"Shame," Jonathan said, sitting back down.

But then Thomas rose. He had had enough of these two. He wanted to pummel the both of them. How dare they speak of Tricia in that manner?

Had either of them kissed her?

Had either of them saved her from falling from the parapet?

Had either of them nearly bedded her?

They'd better hope they hadn't. He should interrogate Polk on his father's border disputes last year, but at the moment, he couldn't bear to be near either one of them.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen. I have more business to attend to."

"Good God, Ashford," Polk said. "This is a party."

"Of which I am the host," Thomas said. "I have duties, Polk. But tell me. Where might I find your father?"

"He went on the hunt, of course."

Thomas nodded. He already all but knew that, and Polk had confirmed it. He needed to have words with Viscount Polk. Words about whatever dispute he and the late earl had had. And what led to the earl's illness.

"Did you have business with them?" Polk asked.

"I just have a few questions about what's going on with our current water rights," Thomas said. "Nothing you need to concern your pretty head about."

Polk laughed at that one. "Pretty head? I'll take that as a compliment. I must say, being the third son does give one a bit of freedom. I may never have a title of my own, but my coffers are always filled, and I have none of the responsibilities."

"Same for me," Jonathan agreed. "My father wasn't titled either, and we made a mint in the Americas investing in gemstone mines. I can live on those royalties for the next three lifetimes."

"Good on both of you." Thomas turned and then looked over his shoulder. "I shall see you both at dinner."

Then he walked off.

Back to the main estate, where servants were still cleaning up after the lawn party.

Instead of heading straight for his study, he decided to go upstairs and check on his mother.

But as he turned the corner to hit the stairwell, he collided with a young lady.

"Goodness, please accept my apologies."

But then he looked into her sapphire-blue eyes.