Chapter 13

Simon could see that Bella's parents were anything but pleased that he had managed to accept their invitation after all, but both Lord and Lady Collingwood seemed happy enough to manage their disappointment by steering clear of him completely. He found a certain peace in that, keeping to the quieter parts of Bella's childhood estate unless there were specific events where he would be missed.

In particular, he liked the library. He remembered the room from when he had been a child. He and James would come here to play a game of chess or read in contented silence beside one another in the window alcove. It looked dusty and ill-managed, as though no one had been in it in years. The table surfaces had been recently cleaned, likely by staff in preparation for the house party, but the spines of the books were untouched.

Grace and Simon were the first to arrive for the party, but not for long. By the close of the first day there were a handful of Lord and Lady Collingwood's guests in attendance, and the promise of more to come the next morning.

Simon cared little for the guest list. Instead, his mind was consumed with thoughts of Bella. The conversation they had shared beside the brook left him conflicted. She had taken his breath away when he first saw her walk into the glen, her dark blond hair swinging loose halfway down her back as though she were just a peasant girl out foraging the forest floor, instead of a fine lady with a fine family to impress.

When he thought back on that moment, his throat tightened with longing. The way she'd looked when she teetered across the makeshift tree bridge, the sound of her laughter restoring the years that had been stolen from their friendship, and even the way her eyes had flashed with indignation when he spoke too frankly… all these ran through his head again and again. It was impossible to be free of her, and Simon was not sure he wanted to be, even if he could.

It was midday before the final guests arrived. Simon and Grace had joined a luncheon on the lawn behind the estate and were sipping punch with Bella in one corner of the great canvas tent Lord and Lady Collingwood trotted out for grand outdoor events like this. Bella looked every bit a fine lady. Her hair was meticulously arranged, her white gown smoothed and starched to perfection, her back ramrod straight. She only seemed to relax when Grace spoke in whispers to her of the illustrious Lord Anthony, and even then, her face remained calm and contained.

"Why, I do believe Lord Ramsgate has finally arrived with his retinue," Lady Collingwood cried from the other side of the tent as a pale gentleman and a handful of his friends made their way across the lawn in the direction of the tent. "The party may begin in earnest now!"

Simon glanced at Bella and saw a tinge of color rise into her cheeks. "Lord Ramsgate?" he asked. "I'm not sure I've had the pleasure."

Grace spoke before Bella. "The heir to the Duke of Cavendish," she breathed, sounding a little awed. "I'm surprised he's here. Bella, did you know he would be attending?"

"I had an inkling," Bella said, in a tone that implied a good deal more confidence than that. "My parents are rather fond of him at present."

That could only mean one thing. Her parents are fond of him as a potential suitor for Bella. Simon felt a lurch of dissatisfaction at the thought and looked at the newcomer with a calculating gaze. He was at once given a chance to examine the man more closely, as Lord Ramsgate waited only for a brief introduction with Lord and Lady Collingwood before striding over to Bella and bowing deeply.

"Lady Isabella," he said expansively. "I have made it to your charming home at last. I'm sure you've been positively desolate in my absence."

Bella extended her hand politely to be kissed. "Welcome, Lord Ramsgate. I hope your travels were comfortable."

"Of course they were absolutely dreadful," the man said, sinking down onto the carpet at Bella's side and waving a servant over. "You know how the roads are this time of year, and there was not a suitable wayside inn in the vicinity. But all that I would willingly endure again for the chance to be at your side."

Simon felt the sudden and inexplicable urge to punch the man. He looked aside, wondering where the feeling came from. He was not prone to violent displays of any sort. Bella must have noticed his movement, for she took it as a cue to introduce him.

"Lord Ramsgate, this is Miss Grace Lyndon and her brother, Mr. Simon Lyndon." Bella's voice warmed as she said their names. "They have been friends of my family for many years."

"Then you will be friends of mine as well," Lord Ramsgate said, grinning widely as though he had bestowed an honor on both Grace and Simon with those words. "I have only had the pleasure of knowing Lady Isabella for a week or so, but the more I know her the better she seems to get."

Bella smiled stiffly. "Those are gracious words indeed, Lord Ramsgate, considering we have only met on one occasion prior to this."

"Two," the man said, raising his fingers to indicate as much. "Remember, I stopped by your London home two days ago with the hot house flowers?"

"Ah," Bella said, nodding, "but I hardly counted that since I was out on a walk at the time."

"Yes, but your parents were there. We had a lovely talk, even in your absence, and I feel even closer to the family having been invited out to your beautiful estate." Lord Ramsgate took a glass of punch from the servant's silver tray and then waved the man away without a second glance. "I hope you will make it your mission to show me all your favorite haunts in this part of the county."

Bella glanced ever so briefly at Simon, and he wondered if she was thinking of the forest and the little brook. "My parents have a well-kept hedge over yonder," she said politely. "And the garden within is well cared for."

"Charming, I'm sure," Lord Ramsgate said, taking a long sip of the drink before him. "A well-kept garden says much about a person, I believe."

This conversation and all that it implied had so completely taken Simon's attention that he did not at first notice the group of people who had arrived with Lord Ramsgate. Just now, he happened to glance up at the three ladies and two gentlemen who were getting tea and sandwiches at the center of the tent. With an unpleasant shock, he recognized one of the women.

"You arrived with Lady O'Mara?" he asked, hoping his voice did not give away his displeasure.

"Oh yes," Lord Ramsgate said, waving his willowy white fingers dismissively. "She and I are great friends and, when she heard I was coming to this party, she simply begged to come." He lowered his voice as though sharing a secret with Bella alone. "She's a bit scandalous, I'm sure you've heard, but great fun at any event."

"Yes, I imagine she is," Bella said quietly. "It seems I keep running into her these days."

Amelia Lafleche turned as though she could feel their eyes upon her and met Simon's gaze with a playful smile curling the corners of her mouth. She set aside the sandwich she had been nibbling on and crossed the short expanse of tent to tower over their small group.

"Surprised to see me, Mr. Lyndon?" she asked, arching an eyebrow and smiling at him. "I can tell you did not think to find me in attendance at this little house party so far from London."

I did not think of you at all, he thought drily. "I'm surprised London can do without you for the space of a week," he said politely.

"Oh, they'll be devastated I'm sure," Amelia cooed, sinking down to the carpet at Simon's elbow. Grace had to shift a little to the side to make room for her, and Simon glanced over in time to see a flash of disapproval in Bella's eye. She can't possibly think I'm encouraging this, he thought miserably.

"The world turns around Lady O'Mara's whims and fashions," Lord Ramsgate said with a smile that was just a bit too wide for his face, "but I confess that, as of late, I have found another muse." He tipped his head to one side and gave Bella a significant glance.

She blushed and looked at her hands. There it is again, Simon thought, the inexplicable urge to punch this man.

"Mr. Lyndon," Amelia interjected into Simon's thoughts, "now that we have happened upon each other yet again, perhaps you will take the time to catch me up on your life. It feels as though we haven't seen each other in ages."

"Perhaps it feels that way because we have not, in fact, seen each other." Simon could not keep the edge out of his voice. "I believe our last conversation was sometime before your marriage."

"Indeed," Lady O'Mara purred, putting on a face of regret so transparent Simon could still see the amusement sparkling in her eyes. "What a loss I have suffered since then. Married and widowed so young—what am I to do with myself now?"

Simon could hear that, at his side, Bella was still in conversation with Lord Ramsgate. As much as he resented this intruder, he was thankful at least that Bella was not hearing the obvious flirtation in Amelia's voice.

Grace saved him by saying kindly, "I was sorry to hear of your loss, Lady O'Mara. I'm sure you miss your husband very much."

"Oh, dear thing," Amelia laughed lightly, "you don't need to pretend that I miss the viscount. That may be the way of things with proper English women, wearing black crepe for years and dabbing at the corners of their eyes with handkerchiefs, but the French are far more pragmatic about such things. He was not the love of my life and now that he is gone, I find my zeal for freedom to be renewed ten-fold."

Simon heard Grace's intake of breath at his side and knew at once that she was scandalized by Amelia's blasé manner. "How fortunate for you that grief is not lingering," he managed to say.

"Grief is so terribly boring," Amelia retorted. "I'm more interested in moving forward than looking back. Do you know, Mr. Lyndon, that I'm rather known for getting what I want in life? I don't wait around for good things to fall into my lap. I seize them for myself."

Simon could see that she was speaking directly to him, her gaze fashioned on his face as though she had marked him for a deadly hunting shot. He could think of nothing to say that would be polite and respectful. His mind was, instead, full of retorts that were unbecoming of a gentleman. In the end, he chose the path of silence. This seemed to amuse Amelia excessively.

"Heavens, did I steal your tongue with that last bit?" she giggled. "Silly me." She leaned back on the nearest pillow and looked around at the grounds with an appreciative smile. "This is a pleasant little spot, isn't it? Lord Ramsgate—" she interrupted what sounded like a soliloquy on the merits of boating from the man at Bella's side, "—what think you of the environ?"

"I already declared it positively delightful," the young man said, frowning a little at being pulled away from his conversation.

"I don't think we can say any such thing for sure," Amelia said with a wink at Bella, "unless we set out to explore it for ourselves. Why don't you take Lady Isabella on a walk through the gardens, and I shall follow behind with Mr. Lyndon?"

"Grace should come too," Bella blurted, looking instantly uncomfortable.

Grace looked at Amelia and paled a bit. "I wouldn't want to intrude," she began hesitantly.

"Good!" Amelia cried, rising to her feet and pulling Simon up alongside her. "Then you may keep our space warm in our absence. We shall be back in no time, I'm sure." She raised her eyebrows in Lord Ramsgate's direction, "And don't worry—we shall stay just far enough back as to allow you a chance at honest conversation without offending your English sensibilities."

Simon fought to keep his tone even. "A walk sounds lovely," he said, "but I do not think Grace is required to save our place on a patch of carpet. She will accompany us." He extended his arm to his sister, and the other, out of obligation, to Amelia.

As they started out towards the gardens, he saw the possessive way Lord Ramsgate tucked Bella's arm into his own and wondered if Bella liked the other man's attentions. At any rate, she did not give away any supposed discomfort. Instead, she kept her face forward, so that none in the party could read her feelings, not even Simon.