Page 14 of West End Earl
“She hit weather and took on damages. Stopped for repairs after rounding the Cape. No word on the cargo, but Frankie is on it.”
A groove appeared between Cal’s brows. “Keep me apprised of the situation, as usual.”
“I always do.”
“Carlyle!” someone cried, and the worry disappeared from Cal’s face before he returned the greeting with a cheerful one of his own.
“What would I do without you?” Cal clapped a hand on her back.
“Lose money and be taken in by cheats and liars.”
He laughed. “You’re not wrong, my friend. I made do before you came along, but you make my life easier.”
The spot on her shoulder blade where his hand had rested tingled. Phee tilted her hat at a jaunty angle with one finger and shot him a smile.
Viscount and Lady Amesbury were already cozy at a table, sitting a few inches closer together than entirely proper. The viscountess was rosy-cheeked and laughing, resting her considerable bosom on her husband’s arm, when Phee approached with Cal and Emma. Amesbury didn’t appear to mind, as he not so subtly appreciated his wife’s cleavage.
Phee had fought against a similar expression a few minutes ago when Cal had exited his coach and wrecked her equilibrium. The forest-green evening jacket he wore highlighted the angle of his shoulders and the lean lines of his body.
He offered a seat to Emma, then took a place across from Ethan, gesturing with a nod to a spot for Phee.
Emma craned her head about, trying to see everything all at once, but kept glancing toward the darker paths, as if expecting someone to appear. She might think herself subtle, but the furtive looks put Phee on alert. Thank God Emma wasn’t entirely her responsibility—although, in good conscience, she couldn’t let the girl wander off alone.
At Vauxhall there were myriad spectacles to enjoy, and this was Emma’s first visit. Fresh-faced, eyes sparkling with excitement, Emma looked lovely tonight, as if she floated through the crowd with an enchanted glow about her.
Phee couldn’t remember ever being that wide-eyed toward the world. Not with innocence, anyway. Trepidation, sure. But by all appearances, Emma lacked that emotion altogether.
Cal was a watchdog of a big brother. Considering how happy-go-lucky he was in so many other areas of his life, these protective instincts and this desire for rules with Emma tickled Phee to no end. Judging by the grin on Lord Amesbury’s face, Phee wasn’t alone in her amusement. Calvin wearing his big-brother hat in the face of Emma’s enthusiasm was comedy at its best but also incredibly sweet. It made her heart go soft, so she tried to avoid looking at him.
Across the table, Lady Amesbury laughed at something her husband whispered in her ear, then murmured a reply that made Lord Amesbury grin wickedly.
“Sorry we’re late,” Cal said, nodding to a footman who offered a glass of wine. “I hope you two haven’t been waiting long. How much champagne has Lottie imbibed?”
Lottie hiccuped. “Just enough to think you’re pretty.” She shot her husband an amused look. “Not as pretty as you, love. But nice all the same. All that shiny hair is like a halo. False advertising but quite attractive.”
Everyone laughed until Cal’s amusement cut off abruptly.
Two men approached their table. Rising with slow movements that spoke of his reluctance, Cal made a bow to the Marquess of Eastly. “Good evening, Father. I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Calvin! We were just talking about you. Well met, Son.”
Phee and Amesbury stood as well when a younger woman trailing behind Eastly and his companion joined the group.
“I’d like to introduce Miss Violet Cuthbert and her father, Baron Rosehurst. Close friends of mine I mentioned earlier today. A fine young lady, as you can see.”
The polite expression Cal wore seemed wooden to Phee, but others might be convinced. Years of training likely overrode his fairly obvious urge to flee, as he bowed over the lady’s hand as expected.
Eastly had talked to Cal earlier today? Strange that their meeting hadn’t come up in conversation before now. But then, she and Cal hadn’t exactly been glued to each other’s side today. In fact, they’d met only briefly before she left for home to dress.
Phee flexed her hands and enjoyed the supple slide of the beautiful new gloves he’d presented her with. She shrugged off the question. If the interview with Eastly had been important, she was sure Cal would have mentioned it.
Besides, this wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed Eastly throw his son into an awkward situation with bull-in-a-china-shop exuberance. It pained her to see Emma’s expression change from unrestrained enjoyment to a polite mask as she waited for her father to acknowledge his daughter’s presence at the table.
Cal’s “Pleased to meet you” and “It’s an honor” sounded perfectly sincere, but anyone who knew him could tell his heart wasn’t in it. His interest—as far as she knew—remained unstirred, despite Eastly’s numerous matchmaking attempts. In two years of friendship, Phee hadn’t seen him do more than look at a woman, and they’d never spent their evenings at brothels or chasing actresses at the theater. A lucky thing, since that could have turned very awkward very quickly.
Out of the corner of her eye she spied Emma rising from her seat and murmuring something about the ladies’ retiring room. Lucky girl to escape so neatly. Their footmen standing at attention beyond their box would help her find the way safely, so Phee returned her attention to the three men who still stood.
The baron held Cal’s hand captive between the two of his, seesawing his arm up and down like the handle of a water pump. In a graceful move, Cal managed to free his hand before clapping the baron on the arm. Smoothly done—he’d extricated himself from an overly enthusiastic greeting and still looked friendly.
