Page 36 of The Baron's Return
Chapter 19
They settled on a small house party to be held at the Lowenbrock town house in one week’s time. Amelia grumbled about it, but Mary had recently undergone the ordeal of planning her wedding with a mother-in-law who’d been just a little overbearing in her enthusiasm. And neither of her friends thought it appropriate for Abigail to host the house party that could very well lead to her heartbreak.
There would be no formal dinner, no dancing, just people enjoying an evening of chatter and light refreshments. The music room would also be kept open if anyone wanted to sit down at the pianoforte, but guests wouldn’t be expected to gather round as they would had Amelia been hosting a more formal musicale.
Abigail’s emotions had her going back and forth several times about the wisdom of attending the event. When the day of the party finally arrived, she almost told Cranston that she had a headache and needed to stay home. She’d been plagued with them of late, so he might believe her.
She didn’t need to be there tonight. Her friends could let her know what happened. How he behaved with other women. If it appeared as though he was considering taking one as a lover. But Abigail forced herself to face this first test of what their future together would be like.
So now she was standing with Amelia and Mary in the salon near the back of the Lowenbrock town house. It was early evening and candles lit the large room. Doors opened onto the garden, which allowed a pleasant evening breeze to cool the crowded room.
Abigail’s friends chatted with her, pretending that they couldn’t tell she was watching her husband flitter from guest to guest. She was particularly interested in his interactions with the women.
She hated the way their gazes followed Cranston hungrily, as though he were a morsel to be enjoyed at their leisure. While it was true that they did the same with Mary’s and Amelia’s husbands, it was a million times worse with Cranston. Everyone could see that their attempts to lure Ashford and Lowenbrock away were futile because the men were clearly in love with their wives. But it was equally clear that her husband… wasn’t.
Lord Holbrook approached and handed her a cup of ratafia. “Excuse my presumption, but I thought you’d like a refreshment.”
She smiled at the viscount as she accepted the cup. Holbrook was always dressed well, but he looked particularly handsome tonight in his dark blue coat and gold breeches. He’d attracted no small amount of attention himself.
She noticed the way her friends melted away, leaving her alone with the man.
She smiled at him, grateful for his attentiveness to her, and took a sip of the drink. “You’ve been too kind to me.”
He shrugged. “It’s a pity there’s no dancing tonight. It occurs to me that we could try our hand at trying to make your husband jealous instead of it being the other way around.”
She hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d angled his body away and that she’d followed the movement unconsciously. She could no longer see Cranston from this angle, and it would be too embarrassing to shift her position now so she could watch what he was doing.
“It would be a futile effort.” She let out a soft breath, hating how observant Holbrook was. Worse, she realized that everyone in the room might be feeling pity for her.
He leaned down so he was closer. “He’s watching us, and I can assure you that he’s most displeased.”
She looked up at Holbrook, wondering why he seemed to take pleasure in trying to provoke her husband. But she’d already told her friends that she wouldn’t play this game and risk losing her husband’s trust again.
“I appreciate your concern, but I can assure you all is well between us.”
He offered her his arm. “Would you take a turn about the room with me?”
She considered rejecting his offer but decided that it would be innocent enough. This man had walked her down the aisle at their wedding. Surely her husband wouldn’t think he had anything but honest intentions toward her.
And truth be told, she was becoming increasingly annoyed with the way Cranston had been going out of his way to avoid her all evening. Why shouldn’t she spend time with someone she considered a friend?
She took another sip of her drink before handing it to a passing footman. Then she slipped her hand into Holbrook’s arm. “I hope you’re not still in town because of me. I appreciate the way you’ve been looking out for me and Gemma, but you don’t need to continue to put off your plans.”
He shrugged. “I don’t have family waiting for me there. I was heading to the Holbrook country seat to meet with the steward and familiarize myself with the property.”
She looked up at him, surprised. “You haven’t visited yet?”
He shook his head. “No, but I’ve been in contact with the steward. He seems a capable enough fellow. And my solicitor assures me the estate is well run, so there’s no pressing need for me to hurry back.”
“It occurs to me that I’ve never asked about your family.”
“They’re a bunch of ruffians,” he said with a grimace. “I have three younger brothers, and Mother can barely control them when they’re home from school. I fear the hell they’ll unleash in town when they’re old enough to come down.”
“They could always join you now.”
“Shh,” he said, looking around with exaggerated dismay. He leaned closer. “I told Mother that the town house is a shambles and in need of repair and that I’ve been staying at a hotel.”
“You didn’t!” she said with a laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”
