Page 34 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
She sat down and Emmeline went to her place at the foot of the table. Lydia sat opposite Lady Rilendale, and Ambrose sat beside her, on Andrew’s right.
“You may serve the first course,” Andrew told the butler, and Mr Pearson walked around the table, ladling out soup for first herself, Lady Rilendale and Miss Randell, and then for the men. He withdrew and Lord Epworth glanced at Andrew.
“Have you been in London for the Season?” he asked. “We were too busy at the estate to attend.”
“No, I was not in London,” Andrew said lightly, reaching for a glass of water and taking a long, slow sip.
“Oh?” Miss Randell frowned. She turned to Emmeline. “But then, how...or rather, where...” She trailed off.
“We met through a mutual friend,” Emmeline said smoothly. That was partly true, at least.
Andrew gave her a relieved glance and Miss Randell arched a brow.
“But in London, though, surely?” Her voice suggested anything else would be impossible or indecent.
“Yes,” Emmeline agreed. That, again, was true. “We met in London.”
“Ah.” She let out a sigh as if that explained everything. “You knew each other a long time?”
“No,” Emmeline said briefly. “Not particularly long.”
Miss Randell gaped at her. Emmeline said nothing, just poured herself some water and sipped it. Her years of facing the Ton at balls and parties had taught her not to care about ridicule and censure. Though they still discomforted her, just as insincere smiles and judgmental glances did, she had her father’s advice in her head and now she almost enjoyed discomforting her.
“Have you visited London this Season?” Andrew asked Miss Randell.
“We were in London on our way to visit you,” Lord Epworth replied. “We boarded at a most satisfactory inn.”
“Oh.” Andrew inclined his head. “Good, good.”
“You must be pleased to have retired to the country,” Miss Randell commented to Emmeline. “Being in London must have been exhausting. You would both have been so much in the public eye following the wedding.”
“We were not in London at all,” Emmeline told her truthfully.
“The ceremony was here, in Rilendale chapel,” Andrew commented.
“Oh?” Lord Epworth blinked. Emmeline tensed—nobody had invited the cousins, and perhaps that was the reason for their comments.
“Yes. We wished to have just the immediate relatives there—and besides, the chapel is too small for many guests. We chose to have it on the estate so Grandma could attend,” Andrew explained.
“Oh. Oh! That is delightful,” Miss Randell replied, smiling at Lady Rilendale. Emmeline watched as Lady Rilendale sipped her water and nodded.
“It was,” she agreed.
Emmeline bit her lip. It seemed she was not the only one who was happy to play a little with their guests. She glanced at Andrew and blushed.
He was watching her, and his blue eyes held a tenderness she had never expected to see there. She looked down at her plate shyly. His gaze was fixed on her, but she had never seen such a soft expression on his face. Her cheeks were suddenly hot, and she fiddled with the tablecloth, distracting herself from his gaze.
“You must tell Ambrose and Lydia about your riding,” Lady Rilendale said to Andrew. “It seems you have been on some fine rides lately.”
“It must be most uncomfortable riding here in the countryside if you are used to London,” Miss Randell said to Emmeline.
Emmeline caught Andrew’s gaze across the table. He grinned and Emmeline frowned.
“Lady Rilendale is an excellent horsewoman,” he told her.
Emmeline gaped at him. How in Perdition’s name did he know she rode? She glanced at Lady Rilendale, to whom she had confided a little about Starlight, her mare, and how much she missed her, but she had said nothing about her own riding.
Miss Randell stared at her, then at Andrew. “Is she?” she asked.
